June Steenkamp’s Book Washes Away The Rivers Of Bilge Around Reeva’s Killing And Oscar Pistorius’ Crime
WHEN Reeva Steekamp was shot dead by her famous lover, Oscar Pistorius, the media went into overdrive. Today, the Times features an extract when June Steenkamp’s book, Reeva: A Mother’s Story
The beginning of the nightmare
Dromedaris Road, Seaview, Port Elizabeth. We are up and about before dawn. Barry sets off for the stables at Arlington Racecourse to prepare his horses for their morning exercise. I potter out to the overzealous dogs — and little Moby Dick, Reeva’s dachshund — to give them their breakfast. The sun rises just before 6am. I’m preoccupied with thoughts about the day ahead, about supervising progress at the Barking Spider, a pub we’re building at the Greenbushes Hotel on the Old Cape Road, when my mobile phone rings.
A voice introduces himself as Detective Hilton Botha.
“Hello, is that June Steenkamp?”
“Do you have a daughter, Reeva?”
“There has been a terrible accident.”
“What kind of accident?”
“Your daughter has been shot.”
“You’d better tell me RIGHT NOW if she’s dead or alive.”
“I’m sorry. I’m afraid she has passed on.”
He says he thinks it looks like an “open-and-shut” case. “There were only two people present — your daughter and Oscar with the gun.”
I’ve heard enough. I’m hysterical, screaming, sobbing uncontrollably. This cannot be true.
On the same day that thousands of women stood up to participate in One Billion Rising, billed as the largest mass action to stop violence against women and girls, the sad news came from South Africa that yet another woman was killed.
On ESPN, you could learn that Pistorius killed because he was a top star who had become by turn of praise and celebrity one of any “madmen and violent idiots”.