Community buries 8-year-old 'little joker' they had all loved
Three days - that is the first thought the mother of Wilfred Kriel, the 8-year-old boy axed to death, would have had this morning.
Anna Kriel would have focused on the court appearance scheduled for the two boys held in connection with her son's death. The pair, aged 7 and 12 years, are to appear in the Van Rhynsdorp District Court, Western Cape, on Thursday.
"Every morning since the day those boys were arrested, the first thing I think of is how many days it will be until they next go to court.
"I haven't made peace with Wilfred's murder and it'll help to know what happens to them.
"I can't stop thinking about those two boys and how their parents will never know what this pain feels like."
Kriel was speaking as she stood in the rain with Wilfred's father, Klaas Jooste, a few metres from the grave into which their youngest child's coffin had been lowered on Saturday. Kriel shuddered as soil hit the coffin and was shovelled into the grave.
"I feel for those boys, but this pain is unbearable. Their lives will go on while my son lies here," a weeping Kriel said.
The grave is near the couple's home on Rosendal Farm, Klawer.
Jooste said he wanted the parents of the boys to share their pain. "They haven't come to see us. On May 28, my child's feet were tied up like a dog's and it hurts to think about it."
Earlier on Saturday, more than 500 people, including a number of Wilfred's classmates, gathered in the Klawer community hall for the funeral service.
John Cloete, principal of the Nieuwoudt Primary School, which Wilfred and the two boys attended, spoke about the "little joker" the community had loved.
"Those words stood out when you thought about Wilfred. He was a joker. He made all the fun. You remember those beautiful little teeth and beautiful little face. We'll miss him," said Cloete.
Before the service, Kriel and Jooste had sat nervously at home waiting for the coffin.
"The day of his murder, I left the food I made for him on the stove. I could not believe he was gone. I still can't," she said
By Caryn Dolley The Star