When you read this message you will never comprehend how grateful I am to be alive and unharmed, and able to write this.
I am completely overwhelmed by the sheer volume of support, both from the authorities and caring individuals who involved themselves, jeopardising their own safety to assist in the search for me, and hold me in thought and prayer.
The competence and speed with which Brad Nathanson, the Metro Police, SAPS, the Kloof Community Policing Forum, and everyone else, including family and businessmen who don’t even know me, worked astounds me.
Minutes after I was let out of the car I started seeing the police, neighbourhood watch and other vehicles with search lights. They were too far away for me to get to them, but I knew they were there, and it gave me such comfort.
I left Waxy’s in Westville at 9pm after having dinner with Linda, Wayne and Ryan, assuring Linda that I would message her when I was safely inside my home, seeing as David was away in Joburg.
When I got home and saw that the lights and the TV in the main house were on, I didn’t feel at all uncomfortable. I locked the car and went to manually close and lock the gate, and started walking back toward the house. As I approached the house I saw four black men come out from behind the wall and everything started going in slow-motion.
They caught me and held me and put a beanie over my mouth, telling me to be quiet or they would kill me. As I saw them I threw my cellphone, purse and keys for the house and car on to the ground in front of them. They picked the stuff up and started going through the contents of my purse, and asked me to give them all my jewellery. One of them told me to show them the key for the car.
I told them they could have the car and everything else, and begged them not to hurt me.
They started pushing me towards the car, telling me they would let me out on the road. They unlocked the car and opened the boot, where they found the guitar. They took the guitar out and put it on the back seat. They then told me to get into the car, at the back, and took the guitar out again.
Two of the men got into the back with me, pushed my head down between my knees, and told me to keep quiet or they would kill me. One of the others made me show them the key to unlock the gate and he went to open it. The other two then got into the car as well and we started down the driveway.
The gate wasn’t open wide enough, so the guy in the passenger seat got out to open it wider, and then we started down the driveway. The driver was battling to drive the vehicle; the car was lurching and stalling. As we were driving they were talking to each other in Zulu, and giving each other directions. I didn’t understand anything they were saying, but it didn’t seem as if they had a plan or knew where they were going.
They asked me how much money was in the bank accounts and told me to give them the codes. Although there were lots of bank cards in my purse, I told them there was only money in one account. For some reason they didn’t question this, and they told me to give them the pin number.
This was David’s bank account, and I knew that when they drew money from this account David would see where the money was being drawn from and realise I was in danger. We drove around for what seemed like ages, stopping a few times along the way. They would stop and talk, but not get out of the vehicle, before continuing with the journey.
I wasn’t allowed to lift my head up, but I could see the light from the street lamps shining on to the carpet for most of the journey. I kept asking them to let me out of the car. The one guy shouted at me, telling me that he’d already told me they would let me out on the road. He told me not to worry because they weren’t rapists or murderers. This was the guy sitting at the back with me, on my right hand side. When he shouted at me I realised that I mustn’t aggravate them, so I just kept quiet after that.
After driving for a while, with them talking to each other incessantly, the guy on my right told me that they weren’t going to take the car, because they just wanted the money, and that I would be able to go home.
They asked me where my children and my husband were. I started talking to them about my children, telling them I was the mother of a child about their age. The guy in the passenger seat in the front told me that he was 26.
Then they stopped the car and the guys in the back with me got out and took the bank card with them. I heard them mentioning the “rank”. Perhaps they were making plans to meet each other at the taxi rank after the guys had withdrawn money. I was trying to climb through from the back into the driver seat when suddenly the driver changed his mind and told me to get back into the back of the vehicle, and told his accomplice to get into the back with me.
I was again made to put my head between my knees, and we started driving. There was constant telephonic communication between the two who had gone to the bank, and the two in the car with me. They told me I had lied to them about the pin number, and told me to give them the correct number or they would kill me. Despite this I didn’t see any weapons on the men at any time. I told them I hadn’t lied to them, and that perhaps they were trying to draw from a savings account instead of a cheque account.
They explained this to the guys at the ATM and I assume that was when they managed to withdraw money because they stopped threatening me. A couple of times we went off the main road and down dark, bumpy tracks. I was terrified that they were going to take me to a remote place and rape or kill me. I have never been more terrified in my life.
Strangely enough, as terrified as I was, I was incredibly calm, and I only broke down the following morning when I was found. I honestly believe my safety can be attributed to my remaining calm in the car with them.
We drove and stopped again, and the guy in the back with me lit a cigarette. He asked me whether I also wanted one and I told him I don’t smoke. None of these men smelled of alcohol or dagga. It amazed me that they were doing this completely sober. Perhaps that’s also what saved me… It’s more probable that they would have raped or beaten or killed me had they had been high or drunk.
Eventually we stopped again and the two guys who had gone to the ATM got back into the car, bringing another guy with them. There were four of us on the back seat, two in the front.
During this entire journey, other than when the one guy raised his voice at me, they didn’t shout at me or swear at me, or rough me up in any way, or treat me at all disrespectfully. I didn’t know it at the time, but I found out this morning that the word “bepa” in Zulu refers to sexual assault. I heard this word a number of times and thought they were talking about beating me.
The guy who was originally sitting in the back with me on my right was the one who kept saying “no” when they said this.
I’m certainly not condoning their actions, but I am so grateful for the way they treated me. When I asked them at some stage during this ordeal why they were doing this, they said it was because they didn’t have jobs, they were hungry and needed money desperately.
The state of this country and the high rate of unemployment provoked this incident.
They continued driving, telling me they had only been able to draw a little money. I told them they had the card and could draw more in the morning. I begged them to let me go now, and to open a window because I was feeling very disorientated and car sick. They didn’t open a window.
They mentioned a clinic, and a bridge, and then suddenly stopped and one of the guys in the back with me took me out of the car and told me to walk into the bush at the side of the road. I thought he was going to rape me, but he just told me to sit down in the tall grass where after he ran back to the car and they sped off.
I sat there stunned for a moment and then got up and ran toward a house nearby. It was well lit up. I had second thoughts about knocking on the door and asking for help, because I was afraid of getting myself into an even worse situation.
I decided to run into the bush and hide until the morning. I decided that when I heard a woman’s voice I would come out of hiding and ask her for assistance. I had no idea where I was.
I looked around to try to find familiar landmarks in the distance, but didn’t recognise anything. I could see I was in the middle of a location. I was terrified they would change their minds about letting me go and come back for me, so I crawled under a bush and picked a lot of grass to throw over myself. The moon was shining so brightly, and I was so glad that I had dark clothing on.
I had no idea what the time was. I kept hearing the roosters crowing and got elated that it must be dawn and that this nightmare was almost over, but the roosters crowed all night. I ended up curled in such a tight ball to try to keep warm. I was shivering uncontrollably and my feet were numb with cold.
At some stage I crawled out from under the bush and went and lay in the long grass closer to the road, thinking I should run out if I saw a police car. Then these four happy little children bounded out of the house that was close by and walked past me to get to the road to catch their transportation to school. I wanted to call to them, but was concerned that I would frighten them. However, when they got to the road, I got up and walked towards them, asking them where their mother was because I needed help.
This is when I finally broke down and started sobbing. Their mother was coming after them to give one of the children a packet of chips they’d forgotten, and I explained what had happened.
She was going to take me down to her house when Reverend Mthethwa arrived in his taxi to collect the younger children to take them to his home where his wife runs a creche. She explained to him what had happened and told me that I must go with him and that I could trust him.
He was so kind to me, as was his wife. They took me into their home, made me warm and gave me tea, and tried to calm me down. The reverend then went out to call the police to come and take my statement.
He came back with Brad Nathanson, his fiancé, Esme, and Peter Laubscher of Tracker.
My heartfelt thanks to everyone involved and concerned. I am eternally grateful.
Caron Whateley xxx
Independent on Saturday