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WHAT A VALENTINE….

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WHAT A VALENTINE….

One would hardly have guessed the 14th this year was Valentine’s day, the day of love, from looking at Facebook and Twitter feed or even just by listening in at other’s conversations. No this year it was Oscar Pistorius’ day.

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Source: Telegraph.co.uk

He allegedly shot his girlfriend in the early hours of the morning in his house, and she unfortunately died on the premises.

A wildfire of rumours and jokes ensued. Apparently, he shot her four times. It is said they fought violently the previous night. I heard he mistook her for a robber. Someone else told me the couple had a history of domestic violence. I don’t know. The first time I heard anything about it was in the dressing room in the gym where middle-aged overweight women (completely naked-yes, picture that) were gossiping about what they saw on CNN while running on the treadmill. After that I’d rather not even create an opinion about it.

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Source: Independent.co.uk

Apart from the violent suspicions about what actually happened, jokes flooded the social media as well. Yeah, we heard it all: “Bullet for my Valentine.” “You’re mad because your boyfriend didn’t get you roses? I’d rather be single than dead.” Oh, yes. All very respectful. Even Trevor Noah ran after the train on Twitter: “And the Oscar goes to-jail”.

Gosh! What’s wrong with this picture? A local and international hero, role model to the world is publicly shamed, even before anyone even know what happened, and worse, a human being has lost her life.

Just this week we all were outraged by Anene Booysen’s tragic rape and death. We were all Viva women’s rights and anti-rape campaigns. Now we laugh at a fellow sister losing her life, even with just the rumours of domestic violence afloat.

Double standards hey?  It seems as though it’s only time to take a stand for something as long as it’s ‘cool’, or should I rather use the even more sickening description of ‘fashionable’?

We live in a country were about 1261 violent crimes happen daily. As young people growing up with such striking statistics we shouldn’t get used to murder, alleged murder, or more to the point: loss of life.

By laughing at it, we don’t ease the shock of our surrounds, we condone it. Loss of life, no matter whether it comes from a mountain-shack in Limpopo or a world-renowned athlete’s house in Silver Lakes, Pretoria is a tragedy. A heart-wrenching tragedy.

Come on people. Grow a pair. Or just grow up.

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