What happened to me on 19 February, on a Thursday night in Sandton, is something I am still trying to process. But I am telling this story because it could save someone else’s life.
I was heading to an event at Sandton City. It was a normal evening, busy, well-lit, and alive with people. The kind of environment where you feel relatively safe, especially as a woman moving alone in public.
That sense of safety was false.
‘I became aware of a man following me’
At some point, I became aware of a man following me. At first, I tried to ignore it, hoping I was overthinking it. I even attempted to place myself in a safer position by walking alongside another man who was with his daughter.
But the feeling didn’t go away, it intensified.
Women are taught to second-guess their instincts, to avoid “making a scene.” That instinct to stay polite can be dangerous.
‘I suddenly felt a tap on my back’
As I stood near the Nelson Mandela statue at Nelson Mandela Square, trying to make a phone call, I suddenly felt a tap on my back. It was him.
He touched the back of my neck with something. I remember reacting, asking why he was being rude while I was on the phone. He responded casually, saying he thought I wasn’t alone earlier and that he wanted my number.
Before I could fully process what was happening, he got close again and touched me with something.
‘I began to feel strange’
Almost immediately, I began to feel strange.
Disoriented. Not fully in control of my body.
That’s when I moved quickly to seek help from a waitress nearby – while he continued following me, still insisting on my number.
Everything after that becomes fragmented.
I remember confusion. My body not responding the way it should. A loss of control that is difficult to describe unless you have experienced it. I was not fully present, but I was not completely unconscious either, a terrifying in-between state.
‘Their awareness and quick action may have saved my life’
What I do know is this: I was helped.
A waitress and a bouncer from the venue I was heading to stepped in. Their awareness and quick action may have saved my life. I don’t remember every detail, but I remember enough to know that without them, the outcome could have been far worse.
Somehow, I made it home. I put the air conditioning on full blast and drove. To this day, I cannot explain how I managed to do that in that condition.
By Friday morning, I was unwell but forced myself to go to work. Not long after, I was in hospital, where I remained under medical care for nine days.
‘Survival comes with a responsibility to speak’
I am alive. And I do not take that lightly.
But survival comes with a responsibility to speak.
We often imagine danger as something obvious, dark corners, isolated streets, visible threats. The reality is far more unsettling. This happened in one of the busiest, most affluent areas in the country, in a space many of us move through without a second thought.
Let me be clear: this can happen anywhere, to anyone.
Advice for every woman
Here is what I need every woman reading this to understand:
Trust your instincts immediately. If something feels off, it probably is. Do not wait for confirmation.
Do not worry about being polite. Your safety is more important than someone else’s comfort.
Stay aware of your surroundings, even in places that feel secure.
If you suspect you are being followed, move toward groups of people, security personnel, or inside establishments quickly.
And most importantly, ask for help loudly and without hesitation.
‘It could have been the last night of my life’
We need to take each other’s safety seriously in public spaces. We need stronger awareness, visible security, and real accountability in places we are told are safe.
I am sharing this not from fear, but from truth.
Because what happened to me was real.
And it could have been the last night of my life.
