Current Issue
ARCHIVE
SUBSCRIBE
BUY ISSUES
BOOKS
EXHIBITS
FILMS
MUSIC
LINKS
CONTACT

South Africa




“He was severely beaten in revenge. Illuminating paraffin was thrown over his body and he was set alight. Young boys did this. That is what you can call street justice: harsh, very harsh.”
-David Mkhize, 55
Shaun Bwoi, 14, died on Saturday, April 9, 2005, after being beaten with crowbars by local residents in Zwelitsha, South Africa. That's the only thing his mother Dafné (left) can say for certain about his death. “He'd been with his friends to a local shopping center. On their way back, they met a group of girls. The local people suspected that they were trying to rob the young girls. I don't know if this was true or whether it was nonsense.” But what's true is that people believed it, and that Shaun became another statistic of the street justice common in South Africa's neglected townships, where low state presence and high crime have left a vacuum easily filled with frustration, revenge and paraffin. At least once a week, suspected criminals are beaten, shot or burned by residents who don't want to give them their day in court. The unofficial “kangaroo courts” even have their own officials: Taxi drivers in several townships formed vigilante associations. In 1999, the SABC 3 TV channel broadcast footage of several alleged rapists being badly beaten at a taxi rank in Guguletu, outside Cape Town. “We would patrol
the streets in our taxis,” says one driver from Khayelitsha, who wanted to remain nameless (many drivers are now being prosecuted for vigilantism, and wouldn't talk). “About eight vans full of people, to ensure no one was operating. Criminals were really afraid of us.” So was everyone else, probably, if the violence broadcast by SABC 3 was any example. “Street justice can never be right,” says DafnČ. “The law has to take its course.” And while it does, and also thanks to SABC 3's findings and broadcasts–three men are in jail for Shaun's murder–Dafné has to live alongside their relatives. “I don't like living here. I feel that I can't talk about what has happened. It can't be mentioned again.”


“Freedom of speech means for example that you can criticize Roman Catholicism, but don't get personal and say the pope is bald and too fat.”
-Peter Hansen, 55
Peter Hansen (left) works as a polystyrene sculptor in Cape Town. In 1999, his larynx was removed, along with his voice. “I had a history of shouting, in terms of releasing my anger and frustration. I could blow a tree over. You can't talk at all after the operation, your vocal cords are gone. All my mouth is for now is eating and drinking. I have no breath; my nose doesn't run; I can't whistle. The technology that allows me to talk was developed in the USA about 20 years ago. They insert a valve between the pipes that go to my lungs and stomach. Before this technology, all you could do after a laryngectomy was speak on a burp. Now I'm talkative. When I went to speech therapy I wouldn't pause for breath. The therapist would say, 'Take a breath! You're going blue.' I can't live without talking.”
Back to
Table of Contents