all that is pure and wholesome in this place cries out in grief for just one little girl

Siphokazi Nini was just 7 years old. Last Sunday, she was abducted from the garden of her guardian in Kwanokuthula by her step-father. She was raped and brutally murdered then dumped in a stream behind St. Monica's Anglican church where a service was in progress, a church where we have attended services often over the last few years. The man was hunted down by members of the community and was himself brutally murdered with knives and clubs. We had just left when this news was phoned through to us.
Tomorrow, all the schoolchildren of Kwanokuthula and the greater Plettenberg Bay area will join a march through the streets to honour Siphokazi and to cry out with their young voices for change. The people of the Masizame Project which was caring for this child are in deep shock. We also are in shock.

Early this morning as I sat with the silence and the lightest of rain, and my eyes looked out to the sea, the peace of the day and the violence of Siphokazi's death numbed my spirit. For a time I felt suspended between impossible emotions. I could do no other than be a witness to this terrifying picture of life's extremes. If I could have spoken, the words would have meant nothing, explained nothing, and achieved nothing. They would have seemed like vapour.

Tonight we will eat in a favourite restaurant in Paternoster. In the morning, we will walk on the empty beach. We will have lunch somewhere. Masizame will pick up the shattered pieces. It will open its doors each and every day. It will do the best it can. And so this life goes on.