Angella Johnson
DURING winter months the joints in Percy Stellenberg’s jaw become stiff and sore as if in need of oiling. Come summer time the right side of his face is distorted by massive swelling, and pain continues to be a feature of his daily life. In any season his sense of smell is confused by the aroma of blood, which when he blows his nose escapes into his hankie blackened and congealed.
Giving evidence at the West Rand Truth and Reconciliation Commission hearing this week, Stellenberg (40) told how his once handsome face was rebuilt with metal parts after it was ripped open “like the page of a book”, when a uniformed policeman deliberately fired a rubber bullet at pointblank range in 1990.
Stellenberg, who now has two stainless steel plates in place of cheekbones and his jaw held together by metal bolts, explained that the shooting took place as he remonstrated with police who had shot and killed a youth in the former coloured township of Toekomrus then casually drove a Casspir armoured vehicle over the body.
His tale was one more item in a litany of callous acts of violence which continue to be unravelled by TRC hearings as they travel the length and breadth of the country. They show that even in post-apartheid South Africa, police and security personnel continued human rights violations which impacted on the lives of ordinary citizens with no political affiliations.
For Toekomrus, a sparse-looking township tucked away on flat and barren gold mine territory outside Randfontein, was a peaceful community until the white town council voted to inflate rental charges six years ago. Local people refused to pay and petitioned against the increase (on average from R180 to R220 per month) claiming elderly residents would be hardest hit.
On October 18 the protest reached fever pitch after electricity was abruptly switched off in the township. There was talk of organised civil disturbance and workers were forced to stay home because taxi drivers went on strike.
It was the year Nelson Mandela had been released from prison, but the euphoria of his walk to freedom was already ebbing.
Unable to get transport to his job as a machine turner at an engineering firm in Booysens, Johannesburg, Stellenberg spent the day at his cousin’s house before walking home with friends. It was about 3pm when the small group ambled along Diamond Street. Along the way they heard rumours that a teenage boy had been killed by police.
Within minutes rumour became reality when they came upon the body surrounded by an angry group of young men, police and military personnel. Stellenberg says he approached the Casspir and asked its occupants to leave the area.
He pleaded to no avail for about 10 minutes. Then without warning one white policeman wearing sunglasses climbed out on top of the vehicle, pulled his revolver and fired down on Stellenberg. “I heard a bang, felt searing pain and then only remember waking up in hospital in deep pain.”
His wife did not even recognise him when she saw his wounds. The bullet had split open his right nostril, parting open his top lip, shattering bone and teeth before exiting through his lower jaw.
Wires were used to fuse his bones together in the first operation, the second and third saw the installation of steel plates and screws. A year later cartilage was removed from his ribcage to rebuild his collapsed right nasal passage, allowing him to breathe normally.
The assault has left him a shadow of the gregarious men he used to be, carrying both psychological and physical scars. He was unable to work for 10 weeks. “I’m still not 100% but fortunately my hands can still operate machinery. But at times I have bad dreams and I no longer socialise the way I used to because people stare at me, some of them think I’m a gangster or something,” he says. “I also lost all my teeth and now have to wear dentures which is very upsetting.”
Stellenberg told the TRC he did not lay charges against the police because he heard he would be arrested, but he now wanted an investigation to find out who had made the cowardly attack on him. “I’m sure he is able to sleep peacefully in his bed like so many of those who say they were only defending the state from terrorists,” he says. “But I would like to see his face and show him what he did to mine.”
David Smith, a friend and neighbour, was the other Toekomrus resident to tell his story about police behaviour on that fateful day. He spent 11 days in Garden City Clinic after his body and face were peppered with birdshot and rubber bullets – one piercing his lungs – in a separate incident.
Smith had tried to return to his home and family on the day of the shooting, after hearing unrest had broken out in the area. “The boss let us leave early and I wanted to go and protect my property,” he says. But on arriving at the township he found roads blocked by Casspirs.
“I could not get past the blockade and had to take another route.” He ended up at a friends house and waited. After about an hour they heard gunshots and screaming. “We went to investigate and heard that Jones Khamu, a local youth, had been killed.” As they approached the scene shots rang out and Smith fell wounded. “I don’t know whether it was the police or soldiers who fired but it was clear that I was unarmed when they did.”
Smith (43) had worked hard for nearly 20 years to achieve a senior position in an engineering company, but lost the job because the injuries stopped him going to work until the following year. For 17 months he even had to pay his own medical bills.
“I couldn’t continue my welding work because I got a searing pain in my eyes. I still have a pellet embedded in my head which the surgeons said they could not remove.”
Smith told the TRC that his biggest regret was that because of the shooting he could not afford to send his oldest son to university the following year. “We had great plans for him to go into law and today he has just an ordinary job.”