A WOMAN (51) has come forward after staying silent for 39 years to tell how she escaped the clutches of notorious paedophile and murderer, Gert van Rooyen.
Today she lives in England, but at the time of the incident she was living in Redhill, Durban North.
I’m doing this to say sorry to the victims I could have saved, and to have Tim* brought to justice because there is no doubt in my mind that he was very much a part of this tragedy
She had tried, she said, to contact the South African police about two years ago to tell what she knew, but received no response.
She had almost given up on telling her story when she saw a similar story published on the Herald’s website.
“They are simply not interested in what appears to be a closed case, and a cold one at that.”
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Gert Van Rooyen was a South African paedophile and serial killer who, together with his partner Joey Haarhoff, abducted and allegedly murdered at least six young girls between 1988 and 1989. Info and pic taken from Wikipedia
This is her story:
It was 1976. I was 12 years old, and living in Durban North.
I went to play at a friend’s house where a chap called Tim was working with my friend’s father, who had a plumbing business at time.
I was about to walk home when Tim said that he would give me a lift. I accepted because he worked with someone I knew and I had seen him on several occasions.
I was slightly apprehensive as my friend Mandy*, also 12, said he had kissed her once and I knew that was wrong, but he was quite insistent.
Once I was in his car, he set off in a direction opposite to my house. I told him my Mum was waiting for me but he replied that he had to pop home quickly then would take me home.
When the trip was about 10 minutes in, I asked him please to let me out, but he reached across my lap and held me in my seat until he reached his destination near North Coast Road.
He grabbed my wrist and pulled me out the driver’s side so that I had no chance to run but he was joking and being friendly at the same time.
When we walked in the front door there was an older couple sitting in the lounge.
Tim looked surprised to see them, and there were suitcases in the lounge.
They spoke Afrikaans to each other, not knowing I spoke it fluently. I remember the older man had asked Tim where he was going to put me and who knew I was there.
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This is the gate to the property in Pretoria that once belonged to Gert van Rooyen. Neighbours say it is an eyesore and developers are put off by its history. Pic: Pretoria Moot Rekord
Tim then led me to a room upstairs.
I was panicking but knew that keeping calm was going to save me.
Tim returned a minute later to say that ‘Oom’ was staying for a bit so I had to stay here for a while before we could be alone.
I don’t know what came over me. I was so innocent and terrified but I said to him that perhaps we could go to the Crown Hotel for a drink and then we could be alone without ‘Oom’ hanging around.
The Crown was in Redhill, near to where I lived. It was the only way I knew to give myself time to think and get closer to home. I also knew that the Redhill Police Station was just across the road from the hotel.
Tim looked amazed and then said yes. He took me to the car, through the driver’s side as before, strapped me in, but this time drove without his arm across me. Just his hand resting on my leg.
I smiled at him, that I remember clearly. I was playing along and it felt like it was working. How did I come up with this plan? I can honestly say that God was looking after me. Inside, my heart was thumping.
I just wanted my Mum.
At the Crown Hotel we sat down at the outside tables. Tim looked like he wanted to go inside straight away. I told him that I was nervous and if he could order us both a drink it would make me less so.
Being under age they wouldn’t serve me, so he had to go in and order from the bar. He did so, obviously thinking he had my full compliance.
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Rapport newspaper clipping March 6, 1994. Taken from Gobetween Flames blog.
The minute he disappeared through the hotel doors I ran faster than I had ever run before towards the police station.
To my horror a van pulled up with my friend’s father inside. He was fuming and ordered me to get inside. I should have continued on to the police station but if he had given chase he would have caught me. So I got in.
I thought it was a case of out of the frying pan, into the fire. But he took me straight home.
A few months later, I was watching the news on TV. A picture of the older man at Tim’s house came onto the screen. My blood ran cold. It was Gert van Rooyen, and I realised he had hurt and killed girls my age.
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The padlocked gates of Gert van Rooyen’s abandoned Pretoria home. Pic: Pretoria Moot Rekord
Everything swirled in my head and I became very quiet for ages afterwards. I was reluctant to leave the house.
I blamed myself for not telling the police what had happened. Maybe I could have saved at least some of those girls. I don’t know.
What I do know is that I should have at least tried. The nightmares have been with me over the years. Just as strong as they were in the beginning.
In time the photo of Joey Haarhof was released.
Without doubt that was the woman I met in Tim’s lounge, even though her hair had been a different colour then.
I also know that Tim must have been involved in recruiting victims. I was meant to be one.
I’m doing this to say sorry to the victims I could have saved, and to have Tim brought to justice.
Because there is no doubt in my mind that he was very much a part of this tragedy.
*Names have been changed.
