Parents of matriculant Abdul Muizz speak about the tragic loss of their son: a light extinguished

The parents of 18-year-old matriculant Abdul Muizz “Tabba” Diedericks say those who took their son’s life not only robbed him of a promising future but also took away a “shining light” from their own lives.

The grieving parents opened up to the Weekend Argus about the day that changed their lives forever, speaking fondly about their son’s dreams and aspirations, and recalling how people from the elderly to the young have shared stories of the gentle giant who touched their lives in small but meaningful ways.

The full of life young man was shot on Saturday, 11 October 2025, at about 3.15pm, in Judo Street, Beacon Valley, he was the youngest of the couple’s two sons, and was described by his mother, Moeneeba, as “the sweetest and most gentle of souls.”

“It showed that he carried that spirit with him everywhere,” she said. “Because of the amount of people who came in here, people I didn’t even know or meet before. Children, teenagers, elderly people, different races, even petrol attendants.”

She said hearing all these stories has brought them a measure of comfort. “You always hear people say you don’t really know your child when they’re outside, but hearing everyone describe him exactly the way we knew him inside our home has brought peace to our hearts. He was kind, respectful, and humble everywhere he went.”

Moeneeba said her last conversation with her son was about his upcoming matric ball, set to take place on 3 December.

“Up until Saturday, he said he didn’t want to go,” she recalled. “Then, before we left for his auntie’s house, he told me he’d changed his mind and already had a suit in mind. I got so excited... never did I imagine that I would not be seeing him in the suit he had in mind.”

She said reality has not yet fully set in, and she still finds herself waiting for him to walk through the door after Maghrib.

“He was a child you always knew where he was. He would update you. He’d come home from school, see if there was anything to do at home, and then go to one of his four close friends we knew. On weekends, he wasn’t even in Mitchells Plain; he'd go to his friend in Kuils River to play soccer or swim. The weekend he was shot, he stayed home to prepare for school starting on Monday and the upcoming exams.”

Abdul also had a lady friend he spoke fondly of, his mother said with a sad smile. “He always mentioned her; he spoke about her with such respect and care. I could tell she made him happy.”

Sulaiman, Abdul’s father, said that when they arrived at his sister’s house that evening, they didn’t even get out of the car before receiving the devastating phone call.

“I didn’t say anything to Moeneeba. I just turned the car around and drove back home, but she knew something was wrong. When we got to the scene, he was already covered. The lady who covered him came to us, and even she said it was an honour to close him and protect him from prying eyes, because he was not a bad person who needed to be displayed.”

Moeneeba said she recognised her son by his takkies.

“It’s a feeling you can’t describe as a mother,” she said. “It literally feels as if everything around you is caving in. You can’t breathe, and everything goes dark.”

Despite her heartbreak, she said she has made peace with his passing.

“You can’t question God, and I know the person he was, he's up there. But just the way he went, I am angry about it.”

Sulaiman said if he could face his son’s killers, he would ask only one question: why?

Abdul’s aunt, Mariam, who was especially close to him, described him as determined and full of goodness.

“He wanted to surprise his parents. We were going to sit and apply for bursaries because he’d already been accepted at UWC. Even his principal only had good things to say about him. He was the mediator between teachers and the younger learners. When there was a problem, Abdul would sit with the learners, listen to them, and try to mediate. He was like the younger children’s big brother, like he had his wings over them.”

Portlands High School principal, Ridwaan Williams, said Abdul will be honoured at the school’s valedictory ceremony.

“We’re starting the ceremony by honouring him and one of his friends will light a candle for him. It’s something we’ve never had to do before,” he said.

“Abdul Muizz was a very good student. He passed with a bachelor’s pass throughout the year, very committed and very bright. You know, when he was in Grade 8 and 9, he was in my office a few times, but by Grade 10 it was like he made a complete U-turn. 

“He became the ideal learner, someone we could always rely on. When I went to visit his parents, I told them how sad it was that the last time I saw them was in Grade 8 or 9 during a disciplinary meeting, and now we were meeting again like this.”

Western Cape Education Department spokesperson Bronagh Hammond confirmed counselling support is being made available to the school.

As his classmates prepare for their final exams, Abdul’s absence weighs heavily as a painful reminder of a young man whose warmth, humility, and bright future were taken far too soon.

tracy-lynn.ruiters@inl.co.za

Weekend Argus