When Sifiso got to the ‘Killing House’ he was not alone. He was flanked by police officers. His heart was in his throat. It had taken too long for the police to come. Every minute that went past, Mandla might be torturing or killing the two women who meant the most to him in the world.

He had told the police to park at Khanyi’s house, that Mandla was holding the girls hostage. That whatever they did, they needed to do it quietly and fast.

But nothing prepared Sifiso for what they saw when they entered the ‘Killing House’.

Simphiwe and Khanyi were tied together in the middle of the floor, back to back. Their mouths were taped shut, their eyes above wide and wild with terror. Khanyi’s knife was in Mandla’s one hand. And in the other hand was a braai-lighter. Sifiso saw the empty can, and the circle of petrol that Mandla had poured around the girls. The smell of the fuel was choking. He was standing inside that circle. As the police came in, pointing their guns at him, Mandla pressed the knife against Khanyi’s throat.

“Move away from the girls.” The policeman’s voice was soft but commanding. But the look in Mandla’s eyes was that of a man pushed over the edge. Sifiso saw something dark and mad in there. How could this be the same charming guy he had met in the mall? It seemed impossible.

Then everything happened too fast for Sifiso to comprehend. The police officer told him after it was over exactly what had happened.

Mandla, crazed, had shouted, “Back off! I will die with both these bitches rather than let Khanyi get away unharmed! She must burn like I burned!” He had lit the lighter and bent to ignite the circle of petrol around them.

And then a crack shot police officer had fired – a shot through the heart that killed him instantly.

*****

It took weeks of counselling before Khanyi and Simphiwe would even go out of their house, and even more time for them to go back to school. But the nightmares would take far longer to leave them.

The only thing that was true in what Mandla had told Simphiwe and Sifiso was the auction. It was held two months after Mandla was shot. The community came together and raised enough money to partner with an NGO to buy the ‘Killing House’ and turn it into a community centre. But the plaque on the entrance didn’t commemorate Mandla. The plaque read: In memory of those that died in the fire.

***

Tell us what you think. How could things have ended differently for Mandla?