I still cannot believe it has been a whole year since the disappearance of Joshlin Smith.
I saw the story of Joshlin Smith and initially told myself I was not going to do missing children anymore, too many heartbreaks, but there was just something about this little green-eyed girl that I could not get out of my mind.
It was a day or two and I followed up on this case. I had to because those little eyes were literally staring right into my soul.
Going to Saldanha was not a request from my management, it’s something we had to do, and my colleague Kim Kay and I just decided we were going. Something about this case had drawn me so much that I still cannot explain it. Heading to Saldanha Bay we went in cold. We did not know anyone and neither did we know where we would start, but the plan was to follow our instincts.
Coming into Saldanha Bay, the beautiful views greet you, however, entering Middlepos (where Joshlin) resided, my heart broke.
I realised just how spoilt and fortunate I am. The dire circumstances people were living in were beyond me, while it may not be the entire area, no child deserves to be living among filth. It’s just inhumane.
But, while the circumstances may have been dire, the hospitality from residents in the area was amazing. People were warm and friendly and immediately welcomed us, a two-woman team into the area.
Initially while visiting the area, we went along on searches.
Sitting in the car, I told my colleague I pray we find this child today. Not because it would be a great story, but, because we have seen this story countless times play out on the Cape Flats. But what I saw, I’ve never experienced before - a community, surrounding areas, and just overall strangers coming together, uniting for a common purpose in search of a child most of them barely knew.
This is what South Africa is about. We are unity. Ubuntu.
But, after hours of searching along the small farm holding areas along a steep hill and doing walks within the area, there were no new developments, and the disappointment was evident on all our faces.
Driving home from Saldanha Bay, it filled me with mixed emotions. That night, I just sat, in silence and prayed for this little girl. I prayed for her family, her siblings, her community.
Days later we headed back, this time I knew things were going down. A source told me arrests were going to be made that day. I was busy with supper when I dropped everything and packed my bags. I was ready to go to Saldanha Bay and not come back until a court appearance happened.
Coming back into the area, I forced myself to be positive, and again, we went out joining the search party, this time we were conducting searches on the beach, we had interviews set up, we had built a rapport within the community.
That night, I wrote an article stating arrests had been made, while waiting for police to confirm. I asked my editors to trust me.
That night, I was slated on social media by people on lives speaking about ‘fake news’, ‘unethical journalists’, however, while I was being dragged on social media, two hours later the same individual did a ‘breaking news’ about ‘arrests made’.
While I did not let the words entirely get to me, some people were extremely hateful, and I received a few threats as well. But I told myself this would not hinder me from doing my job. I had to. Joshlin needed me to tell her story, just like she did with any other journalists covering her story.
As her story gripped not only the nation but reached international shores, my eyes became teary because every child deserves exactly this kind of reaction. Too many children go missing in South Africa.
Because I’m a journalist, we are taught to be objective and remain unbiased in all we do. But honestly, I felt utter disgust when I saw Kelly (Joshlin’s mother) and her co-accused step into the dock at the Vredenburg Magistrate’s Court.
But the community stood together, they may not have been allowed into the courtroom, but there would not have been a courtroom I ever sat in that would have been big enough.
As time progressed, the residents of Saldanha Bay never gave up.
While I may have come back home, I still think of Joshlin regularly, and say a prayer for a little girl whose desk at school is still empty. A girl I never got to meet.
My heart breaks when my niece asks about her case, if she is not found, where do I think she might be? Sadly, I do not have any of those answers. But I do not want to answer, either. I refuse to speak about this beautiful child in the past tense when nothing has suggested she may not be here anymore.
So, while we climb into our warm beds at night, and we cover ourselves with our blankets, let’s say a prayer for Joshlin Smith. Let’s pray wherever she may be that she is well fed, warmly clothed, and unhurt.
So, while the search continues, I will try my best to tell her story, until she can tell it itself.
* Robin-Lee Francke is an award-winning digital journalist.
** The views expressed do not necessarily reflect the views of IOL or Independent Media.
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