Trigger warning: Uyinene Mrwetyana’s murder, mentions of rape, molestation, and gender-based violence.
I start this letter with my brain moving at 120km/h trying to remember everything I want and need to say. I remember the first few days that you had disappeared from the lives of those you loved and cared for. I saw your mission persons poster and my first thought was, “Wow, this girl has an amazing smile.” It was simply breath-taking.
I remember as the days went by, more and more friends on my Instagram and Facebook began sharing your poster and your face began to flood all social media platforms. It was clear to me at the very beginning that you were important to many people, and that those who knew you and cared for you would stop at nothing to make sure you were found. They will now stop at nothing to make sure justice is served.
I did not know you. I did not know what your favourite flavour of ice-cream was or who you always called in a crisis. I did not know what your favourite colour was or what you dreamed of when your head hit the pillow at night.
I did not know if you took sugar and milk with your coffee or if you preferred tea. I did not know what your favourite song was and what item you kept safely hidden that in moments of nostalgia or loss you would take out and look at, remembering a simpler time. I did not know where you lived or if you had any siblings. I did not know your biggest fear or what you wanted to be once you grew up.
I did not know you and sadly I never will…
What I do know is that your smile will remain forever rooted in the hearts of every South African. I know that whatever pain and fear you must have felt in those final moments, my sister, you are now free. You are free from these worldly burdens which corrupt, destroy and kill.
I know that you were innocent and that you fought for your life. My dear, that makes you incredibly brave, braver than me. I know that losing you sparked a rebellion which I am certain you would be proud of.
What I do know is you, my fallen sister, became the face of every womxn in South Africa. You filled the airwaves and shutdown universities. You marched to parliament and protested peacefully. And this is something HE can never take away from you.
The day that MAN turned himself in was a day of mourning within South Africa, and I would even go as far as to say the world. The world mourned you, we mourned for the womxn who have been beaten and bruised by their partners. We mourned for innocent children molested and raped by MEN they called uncle and cousin. We mourned for adolescent womxn who keep their heads down as they walked the streets afraid of making eye contact with anyone would encourage a smirk and an unwelcome comment.
We mourned.
We are still in mourning.
I hope one day when my life comes to an end, whenever that may be, I get to meet you. I pray I remember to tell you everything- how you made South Africa and womxn everywhere take action. I hope I remember to tell you that you were a part of history. I pray I get to hug you and ask you what you wanted to be when you grew up and what your favourite flavour ice-cream was.
I know you will live forever within your family through their laughter and memories of you. I know you will live forever in the hearts of your friends who will carry you with them in every win and every loss. Finally, I know you will live forever in me and forever in this letter.
Rest In Peace, dear Nene.
You are free.
Love,
Jenna Marinus.