Priest: This is the Benedict Daswa I knew

Fr John Finn MSC worked with Benedict Daswa in the Venda area in the late 1980s. He recalls South Africa’s first recognised martyr and the fall-out from his murder by a mob on a Friday evening 25 years ago.

I had come to South Africa five years earlier, in January of 1985. At first I lived in the mission at Levubu, where we were three fellow Sacred Heart priests and five Holy Rosary Sisters. At this stage I was working in the Shangaan area of Malamulele and Guyani.

In January 1986 I was appointed parish priest of Sibasa parish and moved to live in Thohoyandou.

Before then, during my first year at Levubu, I met Benedict Daswa off and on when he would come to the mission to visit us or call to see the Sisters. He would now and again bring people to the clinic which was run by the Sisters.

At the time, Benedict always struck me as being a very ordinary man who cared for his family and others.

It wasn’t until later, when I moved to Thohoyandou, that I learnt that he was the principal of a school. He was involved in the parish council and various other committees in the church, such as care for the poor, education of children in catechesis, adult catechesis and of course the practical reality of all that goes into running a parish.

The Sibasa parish was divided into areas and Benedict was one of the leaders in the Nweli district. In the absence of a priest, catechist or Sister, he would sometimes lead Sunday service.

His contribution was always based on his own experience and on his tradition, coming from the Lemba and Venda people. I remember him as a determined man, who had a stubborn way of getting what he wanted. He had a great capacity to reason things out, so you could not say no to him. He was also a man with a very gentle soul, who was never harsh or abrasive.

Benedict certainly had a close connection with the Church, and he lived his faith out in his everyday life. He would often say that he had a great appreciation for the Church and for the opportunity the Church gave him, both in his education and in his involvement in reaching out to others. He would always try to see what this faith meant to his own people and teach it in a way that made life better for others.

In the area there was a strong prevalence of witchcraft and witch hunts, with the subsequent murders that went with this. Benedict did not see this as a healthy way for people to behave and exist, nor for society as a whole. While he had a strong connection to his own traditions as a Lemba man, he would not have seen witchcraft as part of this.

I remember very well the day he died, as he was in my house in Thohoyandou only a few hours earlier, bringing me some vegetables from his garden. I cannot say much of what happened that night as I was not there, but I do remember the hostility and fear which ensued after his murder.

It was common practice that when someone died, prayers would be said in the family home each night until the funeral. This was attended by people from the local area.

However, in the instance of Benedict, nobody from the local village or surrounding areas came to the prayers.

The Holy Rosary Sisters and I went out each night to join the family. As we approached the village we’d be met with hostility. Sometimes the road would be blocked with stones or trees, and we would be told go home; other times stronger language was used. I have a very distinct memory that it was the first and only time I have ever sensed evil.

It is sad that this reality of ritual murder, witchcraft, continues in society today, and that no one is held accountable for it. Such reality can serve only to instil fear into people and to create suspicion. This makes it very difficult to build trust and only divides people.

Benedict Daswa, I believe, stood for the truth and paid the ultimate price of his life.

I can still remember being the main celebrant at his funeral Mass in the church in Nweli. The thought that we were burying a saint was not the most prevenient one, but the sense of sadness at the loss of a father, a father figure, a leader, a man who offered so much to others and who had so much still to give. A man who had been brutally murdered by the ignorance of others.

Perhaps a saint’s life is not so much defined by his death but by his life, and martyrdom happens when the goodness of one soul makes others feel threatened, because of the lack of goodness in their soul. If this be the case then Benedict is certainly a martyr, a saint and a role-model for others.

It was a privilege to have known him, to have worked alongside him, to celebrate his life, even in his death, and I certainly look forward to attending his beatification.

• As told to Stuart Graham.