Lensman Goldblatt tells Ellen Pakkies’s story in pictures

ELLEN Pakkies returned to the scene of the crime where she strangled her son.

Her own story as relayed to iconic lensman David Goldblatt was just as sorrowful as understanding the reasons why she killed her own child.

Photographed on the same bed where Pakkies killed her son Abie, in 2007, in Lavender Hill, Cape Town, she shared her soul-destroying story of what pushed her over the edge during a photoshoot and interview with the South African photographer.

Several Capetonians are featured in Goldblatt’s book Ex-Offenders at the Scene of the Crime which was launched in Joburg last month. Goldblatt was fascinated about the psyche of criminals, wanted to understand what made them turn to crime.

Goldblatt and his wife Lily captured the stories of inmates in South Africa and the UK from 2008 to 2016. The book, which he completed before his death on June 25, 2018, aged 87, includes text by his documentary producer daughter Brenda Goldblatt and an essay by Erwin James.

The book features a diverse mix of people who served time for crimes ranging from murder to robbery. But the story of Pakkies is particularly chilling.

Abused as a toddler and gang-raped at 13, she ate out of rubbish bins, and took to prostitution to survive.

Her oldest son Abie was born after she was raped at 17. Pakkies married at 18. Six months later, she was divorced. She had another child, Colin, during her second marriage, which ended after two years. She met Ontil, the man she is married to now, at 28.

Speaking about Abie, she recalled how his addiction led him to steal anything he could lay his hands on. It was so bad they put burglar bars on the doors and windows of their house. But it did not deter Abie. “The things that he stole were not important to me. He was important to me. I made this room for him in the backyard. I tried to make him feel that he belonged somewhere, but he never saw it like that.”

He was hooked on drugs and would sell anything to feed the habit. “Abie was a quiet child, very loving. When he said something he made you laugh. At 13 he began to change, because he started using tik. From then on it was downhill,” she recalled.

Pakkies said she often had to leave the house quietly because he would follow her, forcing her to draw money at the ATM, until her wages were spent. “I had one pair of panties. I stank because I couldn’t wash properly. One day I thought I could not go on like this. I went to court to get an interdict. It didn’t work. I gave up hope,” she added.

Recalling that fateful day, she said: “I went to talk to him. I took him some tea. I saw a rope on the way and grabbed it. I stood in front of him with the rope in my hand. I cried because of what I wanted to do. I put the rope around his neck. He woke with a fright, grabbed a plank and swore at me. I said to him: ’Don’t swear at me and put the plank down, I want to talk to you.’ I asked him: ‘Why don’t you appreciate what I do for you? When are you going to listen?’ He said: ‘Mammie, I am going to listen.’ As he said that I pulled the rope. I cut my hands. I used his sweater to pull tighter.”

Pakkies said she went to get dressed

then returned to look at Abie. “He was lying peacefully, like someone asleep. I told my boss, Mr Rodgers: ‘I have killed my son.’ He took me to the police station. Mrs Rogers supported me. She bought me underwear and towels. The clothes that I had were full of stains. You must bare your shame before everyone.”

Pakkies received a three-year suspended sentence with 62 hours of community service. Now mothers with children on drugs come to her for support.

Another who featured in the Goldblatt book was Blitz Maaneveld, a gangster, named so because he was “fast as lightning” with a knife. He was murdered soon after his photograph was taken so his former girlfriend told his story anonymously.

Blitz was at The Terrace in Woodstock, Cape Town, where he murdered a man with whom he had been gambling on October 7, 2008.

He was born in Bonteheuwel in 1959. He had four brothers and two sisters. He was about 9 when he stole from shops, then he started breaking into cars, then stealing cars, then more

serious crimes like robbing people, attempted murder, and then murder.

All his life he was on drugs and he drank. His father was a gangster, and abusive towards his mother. Blitz believed that a woman should be beaten to make her listen.

“He beat me. A lot. I got an interdict against him. I was afraid of him. Then he came here to my mother’s house for one week and was hitting me every night. Mommy called the cops and he disappeared. That was November 2008. Five months later the cops asked me to identify the body.

“But I couldn’t, it was too decomposed. They had to show me a photograph taken when he was brought into the morgue. He was shot twice in the chest, once in the back. By gangsters. He robbed one of the drug merchants. Everybody had a reason to kill him. I wanted to kill him. Part of me was happy to see that he’s dead and he can’t hurt me anymore, but another part of me was very hurt because I loved him.”

East London-born Siyakholwa Daniel said he sometimes robbed shoppers in Khayelitsha using a toy pistol while living with his grandmother.

“My father died in a mining accident, and then my mother and brothers also came to live with us in Khayelitsha. My mother works as a cleaner at a school. My granny is a domestic worker and my grandfather works at a rubbish dump.”

Around March 8, 2011, he was arrested after he committed several robberies using the toy gun. “The police sent me home with a warning.”

But he has since turned over a new leaf after a friend told him about a non-governmental organisation named Realistic. “Realistic has helped me rebuild my life.”

The David Goldblatt Legacy Trust, Wits Justice Project and Goodman Gallery launched Ex-Offenders at the Scene of Crime recently, which is available from at the gallery (in Green Point) for R2000.

Naidu writes for the Wits Justice Project (WJP). Based in the Wits journalism department, it investigates human rights abuses and miscarriages of justice related to South Africa’s criminal justice system.