On the sprawling maize fields outside Johannesburg, the Engelbrecht family know the full horror of the South African farm attacks that are so common they no longer rate a headline The scene inside the house was chaos A door broken with an ax Blood everywhere And in the bedroom, his parents lying together, their hands tied, their throats slit, the cord of an iron tied around his mother‘s neck Her body was still warm
My father always said, ‘It‘s not if, it‘s when‘, says Jo-an Engelbrecht, standing where he found the bodies He knew it‘s coming, he says, tears choking his words We all know it‘s coming It‘s just a question of when