In June 1985, the brutal killings of four Black men, including Sicelo Mhlauli, by apartheid-era security forces marked a dark chapter in South Africa's history. Nombuyiselo Mhlauli painfully recollects the harrowing state of her husband's body when returned for burial—over 25 stab wounds, seven in his back, a gash across his throat, and his right hand missing. These victims, known as the Cradock Four, have since become emblematic of the struggle for justice in a nation scarred by years of racial discrimination. A renewed judge-led inquiry into the Cradock Four killings has commenced, driven by families seeking closure and truth for the thousands killed under apartheid. This effort represents a determined push by victims' families to uncover what truly transpired during those years of white minority rule. Testimonies, like those from Thumani Calata, encapsulate the lingering pain. Born just two weeks after the funerals of her father Fort Calata, she laments never knowing a father's embrace. Despite two previous apartheid-era inquiries, which resulted in inconclusive findings, hope remains overshadowed by the fact that all six implicated police officers have since died. Neither were they prosecuted post-apartheid, despite the Truth and Reconciliation Commission's efforts to shed light on such abuses. Oscar van Heerden, a political analyst at the University of Johannesburg, suggests that unresolved emotions demonstrate that truth and justice were never adequately addressed. The systemic failure to prosecute during post-apartheid reign has led families, including those of the Cradock Four, to take legal action against the South African government. In response, President Cyril Ramaphosa mandated a national inquiry, tasked with probing the lack of accountability for apartheid-era atrocities. This inquiry remains pending but holds potential to surface uncomfortable truths for the country. Across racial lines, victims' families unite in their quest for justice, as shown by the inclusion of survivors related to the 1993 Highgate Hotel massacre in the case against the government. They accuse authorities of deliberately obstructing investigations, a sentiment echoed in other reopened cases like that of Albert Luthuli, a prominent anti-apartheid figure whose suspicious 1967 death remains unresolved. The Cradock Four inquiry is anticipated to resume in October to hear more testimonies. Howard Varney, representing the families, views this as their last opportunity to uncover the truth. Efforts are being made to trace the sequence of events leading to the men's tragic end, while calls remain for former military and police personnel to testify. Lukhanyo Calata, Fort Calata's son, admits the improbability of prosecuting those responsible. However, he stresses the importance of having their story officially recognized, stating, "Justice now can really only come in the form of truth." The enduring hope is that the court records will ultimately document the real narrative behind the Cradock Four murders.
Justice now can really only come in the form of truth.
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