South Africa is not a safe place for us young women.
Women are getting killed every day and no justice is being given.
On the 12th of May 2017, two friends, Popi and Bongeka,
were headed for a night out in Soweto.
They hailed a minibus taxi,
but after that, they weren’t heard from again.
Around the time, there was a lot of stories of girls
getting killed in Soweto.
Going there to identify them, I was very scared.
Popi and Bongeka had been killed.
Two taxi drivers were arrested, but they were later released.
It wasn’t a shocker
because it’s something that we’re used to in South Africa.
I mean, who gets their justice?
South Africa’s femicide rate is five times the global average.
The case of Popi and Bongeka is representative of this wider problem
of gender-based violence in South Africa.
South Africa is so corrupted because of the police,
they’re not doing their job.
The same men who are supposed to protect us
are the same men who are killing us.
[Femicide in South Africa The Story of Popi and Bongeka]
My 12th birthday, she threw me this big party,
with a big cake, with outfits and balloons and everything.
That was my favorite moment.
It is as if she knew it was her last year.
She was a people’s person who enjoyed life, enjoyed modeling.
She was the first person in the house to graduate from university.
She was a perfect role model for me.
My favorite things to do with her were to just sit around in her room,
laugh, have our conversations.
We had the best times.
I was very close with my sister.
We did everything together.
She never took anything serious, ever.
So she was always my little child, although she was my little sister.
She loved singing.
She recorded a few songs.
You don’t come around...
She met Bongeka through me
because Bongeka was my best friend.
Popi respected Bongeka so much
because Bongeka had achieved a lot after graduating.
They never stopped working hard.
Bongeka was a very bubbly person
and she wanted to be on TV.
My name is Bongeka Phungula from Durban,
and I’m auditioning for the role of Mandy.
Bongeka and Popi were inseparable.
They inspired everyone around them.
She was more like my own daughter than a granddaughter.
Growing up, her mother passed away when she was 13 years old.
She dreamed about improving our lives and lifestyle.
She was my everything.
The last time I saw Bongeka was on the 10th of May,
it was on a Wednesday.
On the Friday, we were supposed to meet again at their place,
because she stayed with Popi,
but I changed plans.
I didn’t go there.
That Friday night, they had called me.
Actually, my sister was calling me.
She was like, “You need to come and see me.”
And I was like, “No, not tonight because I have work tomorrow.”
I tried on the Saturday to contact Popi and Bongeka,
but their phones were just totally off.
And it’s unlike them to just switch off.
Sunday was Mother’s Day, and my mom called me and she was like,
“Popi didn’t call me. She didn’t say, ‘Happy Mother’s Day,’ that’s weird.”
That was very painful for me because it was Mother’s Day,
[Bongeka’s] daughter kept trying to call her but wasn’t getting through.
Immediately in my head, I’m thinking,
“OK, if this has happened to Bongeka, where’s Popi?”
And then I went looking for them all over Soweto—
where they stayed, hospitals.
And then a lady from the station,
they asked me if I knew the ID number.
I was like, “This is Bongeka’s driving license.”
And they showed me that they found her lying in Soweto.
Lilhe called me.
She asked me if I could come identify Bongeka.
And so, when we went to the mortuary,
the guy that worked there asked me if I could describe the girls.
And I was like, “Why are you asking me to describe the girls?
Because I’m just here for one girl.”
And all of a sudden, they showed me a screen
and it was my sister.
They didn’t even show me Bongeka;
it was just my sister, right there.
And then that was it.
When I heard about my mom's passing, I was at a friend's place.
It is around seven o'clock at night.
My brother came and told me,
he actually came weeping.
I felt as if the world was on my shoulders
because I just... I remember falling.
I blanked out.
Everything was just a blur.
I blamed myself and wished I hadn’t let her leave.
I was more disappointed because I thought I had let my mom down.
You know, I had such a responsibility of taking care of her,
and also I had a responsibility of making sure that Bongeka was fine.
My dad died when I was a few months old,
so my mom was my only parent.
She was my mom, my dad, my everything.
And now that I had lost her, it is very difficult, yeah.
Two taxi drivers were arrested on suspicion of the murders of the women
after a blood-stained taxi was found
and the two suspects were found in possession of
belongings of the women, including a cell phone and lipstick.
The investigation was riddled with apathy and mistakes.
The detective was supposed to keep in touch, but he never did that.
It just hurts me that you guys are getting paid to do nothing,
to just sit around and let cases go cold.
The evidence was there, but nothing was being done.
No actions are being taken.
So we just had to sit there with all the taxi association guys,
packed in court, you know, making these remarks.
It was war at that time.
They were just saying, “No, we’re going to win this.
We have money for bail. We have money.”
The case was dropped.
There was not enough evidence.
Our detective was a male.
He never understood the pain we felt of not getting enough information.
I never had an opportunity to speak to a female police officer.
Maybe then she would have understood how I felt, how my granny felt.
I was deeply hurt when I learned the suspects were released
and wondered how
because Bongeka’s belongings were found in the suspect’s vehicle.
This really hurt me so much.
Is it because we don’t have the power to fight for her justice
and we are nothing?
I just miss my child.
The pain will never go away because I have sleepless nights sometimes
when I think of her.
The reason the case resonated with us was because
the problem when it comes to gender-based violence cases
reaching the courts is the way in which the police handle the cases.
When it comes to holding perpetrators to account,
we have to ensure that police
understand the importance of collecting the right evidence
and also the way in which police treat women.
We have seen cases where women
will go to report a rape at a police station
and get raped by the police officers.
I mean, this is the absolute horror that happens in this country.
So there’s a lot of work that needs to be done.
As a girl, you can’t wear what you want to wear.
You can’t speak the way you want to speak
because then they have a right to violate you
because you look a certain way.
We should take a stand and report
whoever we know that is doing this to other women,
even if it means it’s your own family members.
This year, the case of Popi and Bongeka is featured
in Amnesty International’s Write for Rights campaign,
the biggest annual human rights event in the world.
The premise behind this campaign is that
the more people that stand up in solidarity
with people whose rights have been violated,
the higher our chances are of getting some sort of action.
This campaign is not just about my mom and her friend.
This campaign is about all the women
who were murdered throughout the year.
We all can fight this.
With all the right resources and the right people,
we can be able to get the right help that we need.
They must speak to their other fellow brothers.
You don’t have any sort of entitlement to a woman.
I will never find peace unless I find out their reason for killing her,
but for the first time I feel there is hope
since there are people standing up and lending us a helping hand.
My other favorite moment that I have with my mom
was when she took the whole family out to go to the beach.
It had been two years since she’s gone out with the whole family,
with the whole kids and everyone.
She had bought everything.
I think it is her happiest time.
I think life is a short, devastating thing.
I just think justice is the only thing
that could mend my heart right now.
[The South African Police Service]
[did not respond to VICE’s request for comment]