The people of Coligny are reconciling, but there is a catch. (Paul Botes/M&G)
It’s early morning outside the North West High Court. Court A will probably be packed — with those who have come to support the accused in this murder trial, and with the family of Matlhomola Moshoeu, thrown from the back of a bakkie to his death in April last year in Coligny.
The parking attendant points to a white bakkie parked outside the court building. ‘‘It’s their bakkie. The white guys — the guys who killed Matlhomola. I told them this morning that they should not have come in their bakkie,” he says.
Taking a picture of the bakkie, I wonder whether it is the same one from which the teenager is said to have been thrown.
In court A, the two accused walk in, taking up a seat in the front benches. Agnes Moshoeu, Matlhomola’s mother, walks in behind them.
Accused number one and accused number two, bearded and uncomfortable-looking in their suits, sit quietly. I picture them in orange — because that is what the security guard said.
Judge Ronnie Hendricks is known for his detailed delivery of judgments and this one is no different. It takes him eight hours. He is meticulous.
But when he says that the evidence of one witness is to be allowed, it is clear which direction he will take.
Bonakele Pakisi told the court he had seen how Matlhomola was thrown from a bakkie. He said he had also been kidnapped and intimidated by the two accused.
Pakisi’s evidence was considered truthful and credible, says the judge.
It’s now that the mood in the room changes.
The accused are sweating more. Their faces are redder. And their backs have stiffened. They are listening to the Afrikaans translation more attentively.
“Can the accused please stand,” Hendricks says eventually.
They do — and their defence team stands with them. Guilty of murder, Hendricks says.
Pieter Doorewaard and Phillip Schutte continue standing. There is no emotion. Throughout this trial they have hardly spoken a single word to each other. The judge says they gambled with a life and have shown no humanity or remorse. He finds that, in part, their actions were driven by a motive to punish.
Afterwards Agnes Moshoeu expresses relief that it is finally over. But she will wait, she says, to hear how long they will spend in jail.
In the Scotland section of Coligny’s Tlhabologang township, where Moshoeu lives, a new shack has been erected close to the old one.
Later, I ask her whether she is at peace now. She says yes. The people of Coligny are reconciling, she says.
But it will never be the same. It emerges that there are conditions attached to this reconciliation — Moshoeu is not being employed. Nor are any of her family members.
In the unwritten agreement between white and black people here in Coligny, it has been decided that the Moshoeu family are the outcasts They have brought this problem here.