Four Seasons Before Lunch Gauteng (Pretoria)

 I have lived in Pretoria for half my life, but even at almost 50, l still am not ready for mornings like this . I step out of  home in the morning at 7 a.m., greeted by a warm, gentle breeze and sunshine so golden it felt like summer had arrived overnight. The sky was clear; the jacaranda trees glowed purple; the air smelled of warmth and possibility. “Perfect day,” l muttered, locking his door. By the time l drive out—five minutes later—the sky starts to be darkened. A cold wind came crawling in from nowhere, sweeping dust across the pavement. The temperature dropped so suddenly that  l have  to switch the heater for warmth. Laughing. “Ah, Pretoria… you never disappoint.” Halfway to the office, the heavens opened. Not soft rain— a storm . Sheets of water hammered the road, street gutters overflowed instantly, and distant thunder rolled like a grumpy giant waking up too early. People scattered, hiding under bus shelters already too full.  “Ten minutes ago...

Violence in Soweto Maponya Mall Against Uber and Bolt Drivers.




Yesterday, two cars were set ablaze in what appears to be a calculated and brutal attack. Witnesses say armed men carrying AK-47 rifles approached, blocked the vehicles, and without hesitation, hurled petrol bombs inside—knowing full well that there were people trapped within. Flames engulfed the cars within seconds, leaving no chance for escape.

Somewhere tonight, a home sits in silence. A mother is trying to explain to her children why their father will never walk through the door again. She has no words to make sense of the violence, only tears. The children, too young to fully understand, will one day learn the truth: that their father was murdered in cold blood while simply trying to make an honest living.

The victims were not criminals. They were not gang members. They were people just like you and me—working hard to provide, paying their dues, harming no one. Yet their lives were snatched away by individuals who believe they have the right to take justice—or rather vengeance—into their own hands.

What kind of society are we becoming when human life is treated so cheaply? A child who grows up knowing that their parent was killed in such a savage manner will carry an unbearable bitterness. That bitterness can easily turn into anger, and that anger into revenge. We then create a dangerous cycle—one life lost today can spark ten crimes tomorrow.

This is how criminality grows. Violence begets more violence. Communities live in fear, trust in the law collapses, and our streets become breeding grounds for more bloodshed. If nothing changes, the ripple effect will spread until safety becomes a distant memory.

It is not just the responsibility of the police or government; it is our collective duty as a society to speak out, to protect one another, and to reject the normalization of such barbarity. Because if we stay silent, tomorrow’s tragedy will be worse than today’s.

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