01 Jul My partial life story
Trigger warning: please note -the following stories contain sensitive material about sexual and dating violence and may cause physiological and psychological symptoms for people with anxiety disorders including post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD).
These are first-hand experiences as told by women affected by gender-based violence. It is unedited and published with their full consent. Please read these stories with empathy and know that these women are survivors.
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I was born in Grahamstown in 1977 in the Grahamstown Military Camp where my father and grandfather were both in the army and that is also where my father had met my mother.
My father had deceived my mother into believing he was someone he wasn’t as he was a full blown alcoholic as from as early as the age of 12 years old. Only after their marriage did he reveal his true nature, including cheating and verbally abusing my mother. During all the conflict and pain my mother was suffering, no one had noticed that I was being sexually violated by our “maid”.
I was too young to understand at that time what was happening to me as I was only three years old. She used to close both bedroom doors leading onto the passage and then placed a towel on the floor in front of my parents door. She laid me down on the towel facing up and used to “ride” me on my pelvic bone with her vagina.
I used to have two repeated nightmares of either being in a room where the walls come closer and closer and finally there is no space and I am squashed and the other where two very big wheels turn into each other, the same as a watch’s mechanism and I would be pulled in and crushed between these wheels. This must have been a reflection of my feelings at that stage.
The dreams when away, I totally stopped dreaming, as well as the memory of what had happened to me…as if it had never happened.
We moved from Grahamstown to Villeiria, Pretoria where my mother left my father after she found my father in bed with the neighbors’16 year old daughter, who used to baby sit us, in their bed. We left there with nothing but the clothing on our backs and our mother moved us to Quigny, East London to live by my mothers’ parents.
My grandparents converted a storage area in their back garden into a flat for my mom, sister and myself. We were only there until I was half way into Sub A in primary school (now known as Grade1). I remember there was a mentally challenged little girl next door that used to stand at the chicken wire fence, hands through the fence, shaking the fence back and forth, always very untidily dressed, hair always a mess and tangled, hands, feet and face always dirty, snot running down her little sad crying face. That memory has always stuck with me, I felt so sad for her, it looked as if she badly wanted to just get out, as if it was a jail and as much as she screamed and cried, she just couldn’t get out and her parents just didn’t attend to her. Another memory that stuck with me was a friend of mine from school, she always smelled of old urine, but she always shared her Rennies (heart burn tablets) with me, because we never had money for sweets….that was our sweets.
The other half of Sub A (Grade 1) we moved to Malmesbury as my grandparents had sold their house in Quigny and we all had to relocate with them. My mom got a very low paying job and we struggled on.
I always joke about my niknak/cheese curl toes, but I have these unique toes thanks to my mother who could not afford to buy me new shoes. I recall my pep store tekkies, those runners only being sold at Pep Stores back in those years with the rubber piece running over the toes and my toes had grown through the rubber nose on top. My mother sent me with those broken shoes to my father one December school holiday, telling me to ask my dad to buy me new tekkies as she couldn’t afford new tekkies. My father simply replied “nee man, dit is mos die mode nou”. Needless to say I walked bare feet the rest of the December holidays and half of the following year. I only put those shoes on when I had to wear shoes for Sunday school.
My older sister used to always get new clothing as my mom’s bosses’ two daughters “hand me down” clothing were always too small for her and just too big for me. My mother also made this ridiculous rule that the oldest always got to ride in front with the driver, which meant that I never got to sit in front, only when I turned 16 when my sister left to my dad to study after school, we could only go study if we went to stay with my father, did I get my turn, but by then I was already in boarding school in Paarl.
My older sister was also physically abusing me and I could never understand why my mother didn’t stop it, I asked her later in life in my twenties why she never did anything about it and she replied “Oh Nadene, I had no choice, I had no one else to look after you except for your sister”, which of course did not answer the question, I left it at that. The abuse only stopped in Stardard 7 in boarding schoo. My friends used to hide me when they heard her stomping down the passage, screaming at everyone, trying to find me, it was cruel but my friends nicknamed her “bull dog” and teased her.
I was relieved when she left school and went to study in Pretoria with my dad as the abuse finally stopped.
My mother also developed a drinking problem over the years and ended up having two nervous breakdowns, ending up in hospital both times for months on end due to not coping financially. My grandmother mostly raised me. My mother was never a “mother”. When she was there she used to just close my bedroom door if it was untidy. I’m very grateful for my grandparents, they taught me manners and table etiquette and so many more values and principles which my mother never took the time or interest to do.
I recall my aunt fetching me twice as a child to go the beach with her son. Those were the only two outing I had as a child that I can remember. The rest of the time I would keep myself busy with building forts in the forest and hand-line fishing at the “laag water bruggie” in Malmesbury or learning to “lang arm” at my friends’ house who lived one house away from me. If I wasn’t outside exploring, building forts or fishing with hand line I was there. I think her mother used to get quite irritated that I was always there and chased me home on a few occasions. Now thinking back I don’t blame her mother because she used to feed me every day and had no personal time with her children thanks to my almost permanent presence. I feel my mother should have instilled boundaries for me, but like I said before she was never “there”.
After my sister matriculated and got the further privilege to study further at my father. My mother decided that she didn’t want to use the money she used to use for my sister for new clothes on me and her bosses’ daughters had also already left the house, leaving no more hand-me downs for me. She then decided it was time for me to go and waitress to pay for my own clothing, pocket money etc.
My mother also wanted to then take me out of school and put me into a college and finish my schooling in a year as it would be cheaper than paying for the school I was attending to. My father wanted me to finish my matric and told my mother that he would pay my school fees. Unfortunately, he never did and once I matriculated in 1995 the school refused to give me my matric certificate as back in those days they were still allowed to withhold your matric certificate if your school fees weren’t paid.
Besides not having a matric certificate to study further, my sister had also informed me that my father had “drank out his R3 milllion pension from the military and that there was no money left to go and study”. I then started my career as admin in a workshop as well as waitressing in January 1996 and worked two jobs ever since.
I met my son’s father at Saddles Restaurant in Bloubergstrand at the age of 19. He used to go out all night till the next day, coming home at some times as late as 8 or 9 o clock the following morning. I had literally caught thirteen times with other woman over the years. At one time one of his girlfriend’s thought it was alright to call me to cry on my shoulder as he had cheated on her and she wanted to know if we were still broken up, which we of course never had. The day I gave birth to Kyle it was his grandmother’s funeral and I was about to get up to get ready when he came home, still high from the previous night’s party. He had unconsential intercourse with me that morning, I had said no repeatedly but he still went ahead. I was carrying so big that it was too much energy to fight it off. I got up and had a shower and he asked me where I was going and I told him “to your grandmother’s funeral”. He was quite upset and told me to wait for him. I gave birth to Kyle that day, the 9th of January 2004, the birth date being scheduled the 12thof January 2004.
I finally left him when my son, Kyle was 6 months old due to the constant cheating and verbal abuse. I didn’t want my son to grow up in that life style. I still allowed him to have Kyle every second weekend on condition that there was no drugs and partying.
I now had every second weekend free and since I lost my virginity at 19 and I had been with no one else, now in my late twenties, I drank copious amounts of alcohol and took cocaine on my “off weekends” when Kyle was with his father. I lived up to my promise I made to him, that I would sleep with all his friends the day I break up with him as out of all the girls I caught him with three of them were close friends. Well I slept with almost all of them and random guys I had met and know for a week or less too. I had a “white wedding”, which was called that because I was high on cocaine and married a man in court that I had known for one week. We got along quite well, but he unfortunately lost his job and wasn’t looking for other work and I could not support him as well as Kyle as a single mother. He moved to Boksburg Johannesburg and I finally filed for divorce, after being married a mere two years.
From there everything just went pear shaped. After that I had three relationships with way younger men than me (10 years younger). They were both crystal meth addicts. The first relationship ended, although we are still friends and we are still in contact today. The second relationship I had was where the pear shaped life became a disaster.
My gran was in final stage of cancer and I had resigned my job to take care of her, my boss having put on the form that I was retrenched in order for me to still draw unemployment in order for me to take care of her as they could not afford a full time nurse. Not long after my gran passed away.
I was renting a two bedroom flat behind my older sister’s house and he wasn’t allowed there as I had him attending at View Church in Table View at the Hope addicts meetings and she found out he used to smoke crystal meth. I kept meeting narcissistic men with drug abuse problems who gave forth being someone they were not.
Especially the second relationship, I swear he is and was Satan incarnated. When I refused to give him money for drugs he went absolutely bezerk. Every job I got him he came back, pretending he went to work every day where I dropped him and picked him up, but when the pay slip arrived with no pay, it said “awol” for every day that I had dropped him. I knew I was fighting a losing battle. I had arranged with my church that he goes to “The Ark” Shelter as his family didn’t want him and he had nowhere else to go. I was about to drop him at the church when he kidnapped me in my own car, insisting that we “run away” and this without my son. I told him he was crazy and that I would never leave my son and as much as I loved him this wasn’t a good relationship for me or my son. He jumped in behind the drivers seat of my car like a mad man and sat on his haunches, holding a screw driver to my neck threatening to kill me if I dropped him at the church. I drove around the whole day, because if I stopped the car anywhere asking people to call the police he would start shouting at people that they mustn’t believe me because I was on drugs and no one ended up calling the police.
I eventually drove past my grandmother’s retirement village, slowing down and then I ducked loose from his grip and jumped out of the still moving car and ran to the security guard begging him to let me in without signing. He then jumped into the front of the car, punched my front windscreen with his fist screaming at the security guard “don’t let her in, look at what she has done to me” he had taken the blood from his fist and wiped it across his forehead and pointed at his forehead and at the smashed windscreen.
The security guard had already, thank God, let me in. He then jumped out of the car and ran off.
My sister then wanted me out and needless to say they wanted to call the police too. He had asked me to drop him and a friend (a fellow druggie gangster friend I found out later) to try and steal a motor bike at a business complex close by and only realized afterward that they got my car on camera, with me driving the car. I was just too scared to call them as he had threatened that he would say I was involved and he told me he had planted the tools in my house.
He ended up coming back to the house after everything had settled down and sat crying so convincingly on the stairs at the front door that I gave in and opened the door for him. I was shocked to see how those tears were fake and he turned into a raging monster. He threw me against the mirror in the lounge, I fell to the floor and then he took my head and repeatedly smashed my head on the tiles. Three hours later I woke up on the lounge floor in a pool of drool. I had been unconscious for three hours. He was sitting on my couch on his haunches watching, talking to himself repeatedly. I got up and said “please no more”. I walked to the front door not giving an indication of what I was about to do, he jumped up thinking I was going out, but I closed the door to sway him from my next move and pressed the panic button. He turned bright red, almost purple, his face scrunched up in hatred and he screamed “why the fuck did you do that?”. I said “because you have to go”. He then ran off and I went to fetch my son from aftercare. Not telling a soul what had happened. They asked me at crèche, but I said I fell down the stairs..I could see they could see I was lyinjg, but I didn’t care. I was just happy to have this day be over with so that I can go home and continue our lives peacefully.
That however wasn’t the case. Then people started following me and my sister started accusing me that “my drug lords” were sitting outside the house watching the house. My brother-in law appointed ADT to drive my sister to work and their children to crèche. They kept on assuming that I was on drugs and I could understand that they assumed this because of my ex, but I felt they were really going to extremes about something that I wasn’t doing. Only after an emergency social worker gave me a surprise visit and surprise drug test (which was negative of course) did I realise they was conspiring behind my back. My son was taken away from me and went into foster care with my sister being under administration, I wasn’t allowed at the house and now was on street. Only after all this I found out that my mom had given notice at her flat in Bothasig and that they were planning to move her into the flat.
That is where I started being in the company of gangsters as I had no idea of who was following me, they offered me “protection” for the use of my car. Most of them were on tik and naturally my mom and sister both automatically believed that I was too, which I wasn’t. I often went for random drug tests which were all negative during the period I was being “investigated”.
At a stage I got tired of being on the street and after being raped by one of the “generals” of the American gangsters I then called my aunt in Sedgefield. I remembered that she had always been there for me as a child and I had no one else to go to. I was living with one of the gangsters friends in his mom’s garage, sleeping with him on top of a filthy and dusty mattress thrown on top of boxes and various other items with no food, clothes or anything. I occasionally cleaned his friend’s houses for money for food. But this wasn’t what I wanted and I knew I would never get my son back if I didn’t try and fix my life.
My aunt agreed that I could go and stay with her whilst looking for work. One of the gangster’s mother I had befriended sent me one a weekend to a bed and breakfast for my birthday and she sent the friend that I was staying with in the garage as a “surprise”. I slept with him again and fell pregnant with my now four year old daughter, Aleah. I had just started a new half day job and after a month, didn’t know how to tell my aunt and my new boss. I prayed, begging God to please let this work out for me. The guy came back to Sedgefield, proposed to me and I told my new boss (since I was still in my probation period) of my pregnancy. She said it was fine I could stay on and work full day. She appointed me as her office manager/debtors & creditros clerk and PA to the directors and also appointed a secretary for me.
Aleah’s father refused to get a job and I booted him after he became abusive and wouldn’t stop abusing marijuana and I think mandrax too.
Aleah was already two and her father hadn’t seen her or bought a thing for her and asked if he may please come to see her as he was in Sedgefield visiting a friend. I said it’s ok, I have a small heart. I just asked him not to confuse her with telling her that he is her father as she was calling my fiancé daddy at that time.
He again came to visit, but then I had broken up with my boyfriend as he also had gotten involved with drugs and I didn’t want that in my children’s lives. I had gotten my son back and after two years of struggling up and down from Sedgefield to Cape Town Court for two years and having to go regularly for random drug tests at FAMSA in George and at Sedgefield clinic proving that I was not on drugs and wasn’t about to let it be messed up for my family.
Aleah’s dad again asked to come visit two years later and I agreed. This time he brought the friend with him and introduced him to me. He seemed much more respectable than Aleah’s dad and he had his own business as a plumber as well as his own home in Sedgefield. He started visiting me for three months but I was never intimate with him because he had a girl friend and I do not take away other woman’s men. I finally met her and I used to visit the two of them instead of him visiting me.
SCHEDULE OF EVENTS:
During December 2016, I was introduced to Simon Edward Anderson by my daughters father, namely Clinton Brian Arthur Celliers and we entered into a relationship in February 2017.
The reason for our move to Sedgefield was because my family was not supportive of me and my children, hence moving to live with my aunt in Sedgefield, namely Wendy-Ann Basson. She was the only person who was there for me and she passed away from cancer on or about 9 February 2017. An affidavit must be requested from my uncle, namely Peter Basson or he must be sent a subpoena in order to attend court as a witness in this regard.
On 18 April 2017 I had received 2 months notice from Suzette Taylor of Eden on Sea Rentals due to trouble that Mr Simon Edward Anderson had made for me at 3 Sea Breeze Villas . The last incident being that he had rung my doorbell at 3am continuously, shouted and put cigarette butts into my neighbours’ key hole. See attached my rental contract of which was valid unto the of end February 2018.
Due my aunts passing I suffered severe depression which started influencing my work whilst I was employed at Southern Cape Compressed Air (Pty) Ltd. My boss, namely Bianca Swartz, sent me to Doctor James Stopforth on 14 August 2017 as she recognised that I was suffering from depression. Bianca Swartz is a witness for the State and she can confirm this as she will be in court for my trial.
Dr Stopforth prescribed to Cilift 20mg and advised that it would take approximately one month to start working. See attached Invoice – Drs Neethling, Taylor & Associates in respect of the consultation also see attached Invoice from Dr Neethling, Taylor & Associates with Cilift 20mg depicted. I was declined in respect of obtaining a letter from Dr Stopforth, having been diagnosed with depression and that I was suicidal. They informed me that the court would have to send a subpoena in respect of same.
On or about 28 August 2017 asked Bianca Swartz if I could take my son, Kyle Daniel Roux for an interview at Glenwood House High School at 14:00pm as I have done before when I took him for an interview at York High School, also at 14:00 pm prior to that. She said it wasn’t a problem. On or about 30 August 2017 I took Kyle Daniel Roux to work with me as I have done when he went to the York High interview. It would be 6 trips to Sedgefield and back had I gone to work and fetched him and taken him back, most of my working day would have been wasted driving up and down. That day she shouted and swore at me with my son being in the office with me. I then shouted back at her telling her that her behaviour in front of my son was unacceptable and she suspended me with pay until further notice.
On 4 September 2017 I was called in to attend the offices of Southern Cape Compressed Air (Pty) Ltd to sign a Notice of Suspension, where I was advised by Mr Wouter Booysen (off the record) that I should not take their offer as I would win, whether this was a tactic to lead to my dismissal I’m not sure of. See attached Notice of Suspension and also attached the Notice to Attend a Disciplinary Hearing.
During or about the beginning of September 2017 Mr Hendrik Kukkuk (previous employee of Southern Cape Compressed Air (Pty) Ltd), informed me that Mrs Bianca Swartz had offered his wife Mrs Augustine Kukkuk R5,000.00 for any information that would lead to my dismissal as they were facing financial difficulties. They refused the R5,000.00 offer and informed me immediately thereof. They were willing to give Affidavits in this regard in order to approach the CCMA. Please see attached Whatsapp conversation on 3 and 6 March 2018 with Mrs Augustine Kukkuk requesting whether she and Mr Hendrik Kukkuk would still be willing to give the affidavits in They would have to be subpoenaed for these affidavits or subpoenaed as witnesses in this regard as they have refused to give me the affidavits. They explained the reason is that are now on speaking terms with Bianca Swartz and do not want animosity.
My intention was to see someone at the CCMA on 5 September 2017, but Mr Anderson insisted that he would help me at the disciplinary hearing on 6 September 2017, as he explained that the fourth bullet point in my notice to attend a disciplinary hearing “I am entitled to have the opportunity to confer with my representative at reasonable times before, during and after the enquiry”. He explained that I am allowed to leave the hearing to consult with him at times to get advice, therefore I spent the night of 4 and 5 September 2017 at his house in order to prepare for my hearing.
I woke up some time early the morning of either 6 September 2017, when Mr Alistair Brinkhuis arrived at Simons house with a friend. I was listening in on their conversation and overheard Mr Brinkhuis telling Mr Anderson that he and his friend, who was with him at the time had robbed a local liquor store and he had small bottles of vodka and gin with him. During this conversation I decided to record them on my new Nokia 3 that my mother took out on contract for me. Mr Brinkhuis then proceeded to tell Mr Anderson of items he had stolen from a flat (which sounded just like my property). I then walked in and said to Alistair “oh really, and what if there are cameras at this property?” showing him that I was recording him. He then said that it didn’t matter as they were wearing gloves and disguises. I then pointed the phone to his shoes and said ” and what about your shoes”. He nervously looked at Mr Anderson and said that he had to leave. I suspect that had gone back to my flat and put the stolen items back, excluding one of the black speakers that belonged to my LG DVD player, which I am still missing. I then went back to bed as I had to go to the hearing and put my phone on charge under the mattress my daughter was sleep on which was gone when I got up to get my son ready for school that morning.
I can’t recall what time I had gone home to drop off my belongings as I didn’t want to leave it at Mr Anderson’s house after my phone had been stolen, but when I walked in I immediately saw that my DVD player was unplugged and that one speaker was missing, I also saw that my vacuum cleaner wasn’t in the same place I had left it and there my and my daughters wardrobes had been rummaged through. My house was in disarray as I was sorting my things in order to pack up gradually as I was already overstaying my notice period and the owner had decided to sell the flat, but someone had made more of a mess looking for something, which I suspect was the cash I had, which Mr Anderson knew of as I didn’t have a bank account at that stage and my uncle was drawing cash for my from his bank account R3000.00 at a time as that was his limit. I had caught Mr Anderson previously stealing cash of mine. This I have mentioned before to Mr Hendrik Kukkuk. My uncle Mr Pete Basson can testify or add to an affidavit that this was the regular procedure and Mrs Bianca Swartz can confirm that she was paying my salary into the account of “Big Wolf” every month.
Mr Anderson had dropped my son off at school that morning with my work vehicle and had scratched my car as he was leaving the premises, which my son told me afterwards that it had looked like he had done so intentionally. I was in the bath when upon his return and heard him working on a vehicle and I also heard Mr Brinkhuis arriving at the property again. I heard him telling Mr Anderson “hoekom rootjie jy nie net weer vir haar nie”. I then realised that Mr Anderson had been drugging me. I scratched through his things and found an expired bottle of Stanazol 50mg suspension (horse tranquiliser), which I still have in my possession. I confronted Mr Anderson regarding my Nokia and the break-in and he told me that Mr Brinkhuis had stolen my phone. See attached photo copy of the Stanazol 50mg suspension.
I am unsure of the time, but I left to put petrol in my car and was panicking because I realised that I was going to run late for my hearing. And also wondering what Mr Brinkhuis and Mr Anderson had up their sleeve for me. Upon my return at 32 Uil Street I pressed the hooter and it didn’t work. I then panicked even more when realising that Mr Anderson had removed the hooter from my work vehicle for his vehicle when he was supposedly working on “his” vehicle that morning. I then checked the car and saw that the wrong tyre was in the boot, the jack and tools were also missing as well as the indicators were removed. I confronted him and he said “so what, it’s not as if Bianca will notice that it’s gone immediately”. It was then that I also saw that he had scratched my work vehicle and realised that he would have let me leave there with the vehicle as is. I insisted that he fix it before I leave and sat crying in the car. Mr Brinkhuis told me to drink some of the alcohol he had stolen and smoke some of the tik they had; I can’t remember if it was Gin or Vodka whilst I was crying in the car as this would calm my nerves. At that stage I would’ve done anything to calm myself down, but it only made things worse. It was a small job and in my opinion would have taken at most ten minutes to spray, but Mr Anderson took his time cleaning all the equipment and the spraying car so that he was only finished at 12:30pm which made me even more late. I’m not sure of the date, but Mrs Bianca Swartz can testify that Mr Anderson had sent her a message that these items were missing out of the work vehicle and I suspect that he accused me of taking it when I can’t even change a tyre, never mind taking out a hooter.
Mr Anderson was supposed to leave with me to the hearing but he and Mr Brinkhuis sat on the vehicles’bonnet laughing at me. He then pointed out that one of the bullets in my Notice to attend a disciplinary hearing: “I have been advised that should I refuse/fail to attend the enquiry, the hearing may be held in my absence”, Mr Anderson made me understand that if I missed it they would proceed without me and that it would lead to my dismissal. Mr Anderson then told me that I should go ahead and he would catch up with me in order to assist me with the hearing, if I made it in time. Needless to say he never arrived. This made me suspect that maybe he had taken the offer Mrs Swartz had made to Mr and Mrs Kukkuk as I he was aware of it as I had told him about it. He had done everything in his power to get me to be late for my hearing and to upset me to such an extent that I had lost the plot on the way racing as fast as I could. I had then taken a broken pen and made scratch marks on my wrists as that would be a valid excuse for being late and that if the labour consultant had left that they would hopefully reschedule. I had never been suspended before or attended a hearing so I had no idea what the procedures were.
I had no intention of reporting the break-in as I didn’t have the proof anymore, since my phone had been stolen with the recording on it and I suspect that Mr Anderson had given Mr Brinkhuis my house keys as there was no forced entry that I could see. Mr Anderson also came to my house before 7 September (I can’t recall the time or date but I remember it was the evening) He threatened that he would make people believe that I was on drugs and that I was crazy and that no one would believe me. He also told me that if I had got him arrested that he would either find me himself once he was out or have someone find me on his behalf to kill me. I then told him that I was never tied up and that I had no intention of reporting it as I had no evidence to support my allegations.
I was so distraught and couldn’t process everything that had happened; I had taken four depression tablets in order to cope with everything. I was under the impression that two days passed, instead only one day had passed. Only when I received my documents from Mr Fivaz did I see that in actual fact only one day had passed. Mrs Elise Watson confronted me on what had happened and I realised that I had to tell her what I had told Mrs Swartz and everyone at the office as Mrs Watson and Mrs Swartz had previously been in contact when I was off sick and I was at the clinic and my battery was flat. She had phoned my aunt and my Aunt gave her Mrs Watsons number. I was afraid that should they talk again that the story had to be the same. Mrs Watson then insisted that I that I report it and she took me in her vehicle. After that I can’t remember much.
Mr Anderson wanted to meet with me and I left the house on 9 September 2017 and met up with him and went to his house. Mr Anderson once again threatened me that should I have implicated him or Mr Brinkhuis that he would have me killed or kill me himself. He was also trying to convince me that Mr Khan had a team who was following Mr Brinkhuis and that they knew Mr Brinkhuis hadn’t broken into my flat and that he had already convinced Mr Kahn that I was crazy. I admitted to Mr Anderson that I didn’t remember what exactly had said but I knew that I hadn’t mentioned their names. He then admitted that he had stolen my Nokia and gave it to someone called K.C or Casey. I then realised that I had to get away from Mr Anderson. I was using my son’s phone at that stage and I then sent a sms to an old friend Mr Clive Drury to come and fetch me from Mr Anderson’s house. See attached Annexure of photograph taken of the sms I had sent to Mr Drury on 9 September requesting him to fetch me from 32 Uil Street, Sedgefield. Mr Drury arrived early Sunday morning, 10 September 2017 and we also fetched my son later that morning to leave to Cape Town. My son finished his school year at Table View primary school whilst staying at my sister and Aleah also stayed by my sister attending pre-school at Rising Stars Academy Table View.
I returned to Sedgefield on 1 October 2017 with Mr Wynand Brandt to finish packing as the agents were pressurising me for the keys as the owner had decided to sell the flat at 3 Seabreeze Villas Sedgefield and they could not access the premises. We could not fit all my belongings on the trailor and bakkie, the only person who had storage space was Mr Anderson and he was the last person with whom I wanted contact with, but I was left no choice but to go there and ask for his help. Mr Brandt left for Table View on 2 October 2017 and Mr Anderson then helped load the rest of my belongings, which he took to his house to store for me. See attached photos of the loaded trailor and bakkie taken on 1 October 2017 depicted above the photos.
On 3 October 2017 the balance of my belongings were off-loaded at Mr Andersons house. He then turned on me and told me because I had brought it to his house it now belonged to him. I told him that I would go to the police and this time I would report him. As I tried to leave he tried he attacked me, he then picked me up wanting to throw me head first off his balcony. I can’t remember how I ended up on the kitchen floor crying trying to cut my wrists as I was so tired from the move, him attacking me mentally and physically that I just gave up and sat in a ball crying. He stood next to the broken door which happened during the time of the attack and had his penis in his hand and told that he was going to rape me and that I was going enjoy it. I do recall he had lifted me on top of him on the couch. After that I can’t remember much but all I know is that I ended up hiding upstairs from him in his wardrobe and fell asleep there. The next morning, 4 October 2017 I had sent a message to Michael Kenneth Simon of crime alert asking that they send the police to fetch me there as I was too scared to leave the cupboard as Mr Anderson was under the impression that I had already left the premises as he had according to Mr Anderson looked for me and could not find me. See attached picture of the broken door taken on 3 October 2017. Mr Michael Simon knows who arranged for the police to fetch me and should they must also be called as a witnesses in this regard as I have requested same from Mr Simon and replied that he would ask the person at Crime Alert. Mr Simon never got back to me, even after I sent a follow up whatsapp message. Cell number 082 566 8433.
As the police arrived at the premises on 4 October 2017 and escorted me off the premises. I then informed them that Mr Anderson had raped me and they insisted that he goes with to Sedgefield police station. At the police station Mr Anderson told the police to call either Mr Kahn or Mr Quinn as I was a wanted criminal. Mr Quinn arrived at Sedgefield police station after I had given a hand written statement, which I can’t recall signing. Mr Quinn escorted me to Knysna Hospital where a lady officer took my Affidavit in the waiting room. Sister Hans attended to my examination and the completion of a J88 form indicating my injuries and had also done an internal examination. Thereafter was allowed to have a shower before I was escorted to prison and locked up for perjury. Please see attached a copy of the “Prisoner’s Property Receipt no. M0715328” dated 4 October, given to me after my examination at Knysna Hospital when they took me up into the holding cells.
Upon perusal of the copies Mr Fivaz had given me during April 2018”, when he was appointed as my attorney of record I noticed that the J88 form completed by Sister Hans and the Affidavit taken by the lady officer at Knysna Hospital was not included and that a J88 was included by a Doctor C.S Joubert after I had spent already spent one night in jail. Mr Quinn fetched me from the holding cells on 5 October 2017, handcuffed me and told me that I was being taken to a doctor to confirm that the affidavit I had given was not an forced affidavit. Dr Joubert asked me if I had given my affidavit willingly, to which I replied that I did not recall most of it but that no once had forced me. I then asked him if he could possibly give me panados as I was in tremendous pain from the injuries I had sustained from Mr Anderson and he gave two panados to me. Up until 5 October 2017 I had not been given a telephone call either.
Dr Joubert did not examine me as depicted in the last paragraph of Mr Quinn’s statement dated 5 October 2017. Mr Quinn furthermore failed to disclose in the aforementioned statement, the details of him escorting me to Knysna Hospital as well as the fact that I had already spent the night of 4 October 2017 in the holding cells. Kindly please request the J88 form completed by Sister Hans on 4 October 2017 from Knysna Police Station as well as a copy of the Affidavit taken from me by the lady officer in the waiting room of Knysna Hospital. Another lady from Knysna police station was also present when Mr Quinn took me to Knysna Hospital, she was even sitting in during my examination, but I do not recall her name. Sister Hans will be able to confirm this. Mr Quinn would have to be questioned regarding the visitation that was omitted from his Statement as well as why the J88 form and the Affidavit taken at Knysna Hospital, proving that I was raped was not included in the documentation submitted to the state.
On 11 April 2018 I had to go to Knysna again to attend Knysna court in order to finalise the emergency restraining order against Mr Anderson. I then took the opportunity to Madelein Cronje (Superintendant at Knysna Hospital) and asked if they had record of my attendance with Sister Hans on 4 October 2017, which she confirmed and I asked for the copy of the records. She advised they are not allowed to supply those records to patients and that my attorney would have to attend to it. She also advised that there was another form that Sister Hans hadn’t completed which wasn’t on my file and that she would instruct her to do so.
The courts wanted to send me to Falconberg for a years’ evaluation to see if I was crazy thanks to Mr Anderson working with the police.
He used to work hand in hand with the gangsters, them bringing him stolen items asking him to sell it in George or Knysna, then he used to rat them out, the police going to his house, getting affidavits from him downstairs in his garage. He then pawns the stolen items for drugs and the police know no better.
We then moved to Bloubergstrand to a “friend” where we were in another abusive situation where my daughter accused the man of touching her – my story is not complete