The image of Wyebank mother Xoli Mpungose sitting on the floor, as is tradition for black African women mourners, brought back memories of the then-seemingly interminable horror of senseless violence in 1980 - 1990s in KwaZulu-Natal.
The candles, each representing the dead, were a confirmation and an evocation of the departed souls. There was no need to ask how many loved ones had the family lost, or who the bearer of the most pain and loss was.
As a young reporter for the Daily News, I’d do my job and then pray the massacre was the last one.
As I did during those dark hours before the dawn of our democracy, I found myself praying a lot these past few days.
Replying to a friend’s comment on social media on the xenophobia issue I said this wave will pass, but all good people need to do something to end this madness. The same applies to the violence against women and children.
The trouble is that we forget when the waves subside, forgetting that new tsunamis will come.
Perhaps we need to memorialise such victims as the Wyebank four, Uyinene Mrwetyana, Leighandre “Baby Lee” Jegels, and Bongekile Tenza and her three children.
We should also go back and remember Ernesto Nhamuave, the “Burning Man” of the 2008 xenophobic outbreak, and others. Lest we forget.
These crises won’t go away on their own, or through prayers alone. They require consistent, persistent action.
* Xaba is the editor of the Independent On Saturday