Here in South Africa, there is something deeply unsettling about hearing that another woman has been found dead.
As a woman in this country, writing about this story for the first time, I found myself thinking about the families behind these headlines. Every woman who has been found had someone waiting for her. Someone who knew her. Someone who loved her or simply expected her to come home.
Eight women have been found dead in and around Ekurhuleni, Gauteng, over the past two months. Their deaths have left communities frightened and asking the same question: are these cases connected?
Police have not confirmed that a serial killer is responsible, and it is important not to reach that conclusion before investigators have established the facts. But the circumstances surrounding the deaths are disturbing enough without the label.
On July 15, a 37-year-old woman was found naked and bound with cable ties. In late August, the body of a 32-year-old woman was discovered partially clothed. Another body was found in a river near Tembisa on September 7.
Then came the disappearance of Elizabeth “Tsontso” Moselakgomo, a 38-year-old mother who went out for a jog and never returned home. Her family searched. So did members of the running community. Her partially clothed body was eventually found behind a hotel, three days later.
For me, her story is particularly difficult to forget. Going for a run is such an ordinary thing. People do it to clear their minds, stay healthy, or simply get out of the house. The thought that a woman can leave home to do something so mundane — so normal — and never return is frightening.
And the discoveries continued.
Additional bodies were found in Olifantsfontein and Kwa-Thema in past weeks. Police reported that one of the recent victims was found naked and in an advanced state of decomposition.
The evening of Tuesday, September 15th, added another gruesome find to the mounting tally, as an eighth body was found in Olifantsfontein.
Speaking after the most recent discovery, acting national police commissioner Lieutenant-General Puleng Dimpane expressed frustration at the lack of safety women feel in South Africa. “The death of these eight women in these circumstances is a reminder to us that we live in a society where women feel unsafe,” he said.
I cannot help but wonder how many women in these communities are now changing their routines because of this. How many are avoiding certain roads. How many are telling a friend where they are going before they leave the house. How many are running between distances with a phone in hand, constantly checking behind them.
These are things women in South Africa already do.
We are taught from a young age to be careful. Don’t walk alone. Don’t go out at night. Share your location. Call someone when you arrive. Watch your surroundings. And yet, even after doing everything we are told to do, women are still being killed.
That is why this investigation cannot be treated as just another crime story. This rash of horrific crimes represents a breaking point.
President Cyril Ramaphosa has called for the cases to be prioritized. Police are examining whether the deaths are connected, and whether one person or a group could be responsible. I hope that investigation is thorough. I hope whoever is responsible is identified and brought to justice.
But I also hope we remember the women themselves.
They were not just victims. They were people with families, dreams, responsibilities, and lives that mattered. They had ordinary mornings. They had names that someone still says out loud.
As I write this, I am mindful of sticking to the facts of the case. I also want these women’s stories to remind us that their lives were worth protecting while they were still living them.
As a South African woman, I want to be able to walk, live, and travel without constantly thinking about whether I will become another victim – another soon forgotten headline.
Eight women are dead. Their families deserve answers. Their communities deserve safety. And the women of South Africa deserve to know that someone is fighting to protect them — not after the next body is found, but now.
