MALAIKA MAHLATSI | We shall remember Didi not for only how she died but also how she lived

In June 2024, the Mail & Guardian newspaper honoured 200 inspirational young South Africans who are doing remarkable work in categories including but not limited to education, governance, civil society, financial services, arts and entertainment, entrepreneurship and climate change and environment. Among those who were recognised in their field was 32-year-old Dorcas “Didi” Lekganyane, the co-founder of Sweet Biotics.

The company distributes graded, quality tonics to mainstream markets and outlets. Lekganyane – an environmental scientist by training – was passionate about the application and trade of traditional medicinal plants. In a world that demonises indigenous knowledge systems, where African spirituality is associated with evil and darkness, she was determined to cement its value and importance.

She was insistent that traditional plants have a place in medicine; that the biomedical model – in cynical dismissal of such an approach – was inadequate. Those of us who shut down universities during the #RhodesMustFall and #FeesMustFall protests a few years ago, demanding the decolonisation of academic curricula, were in awe of her work. She won numerous awards for this work, not only because it was a great contribution to science but because it was daring. She was, without question, a powerhouse in the ideational space.

Less than a month after the trailblazing young scientist was recognised by the Mail & Guardian for her brilliant and impactful work, she was found dead inside a house in Bramley, Johannesburg. She had been stabbed multiple times. She was found by law enforcement officers who had been called about a domestic dispute by a neighbour who heard loud screaming.

Didi was brutally murdered, not by a stranger, but allegedly by her romantic partner – someone she had loved. With the pummelling of a knife into her body, he took from the world one of the most brilliant minds of our generation. He took from the people of SA a woman who, at the time of her death, was working with a group of rural women on a seed bank project to protect biodiversity.

I have written many articles about gender-based violence. And although I believe it is a topic we should never tire from discussing because so much depends on us raising our voices against this injustice, I had hoped I would not have to write another article this year about femicide. But the senseless and heinous murder of Lekganyane has forced me to not only write, but to also reflect on what it means when a man takes his fists, his knife or his gun to a woman. This is because when Didi took her last breath last Thursday, it wasn’t just a human being who died.

It wasn’t just someone’s daughter, sister, aunt, niece, friend, colleague and mentor who died. It was a brilliant scientist. It was an activist. It was a visionary who was determined to bestow upon African people what Steve Biko deemed the greatest gift possible – a human face. The death of any woman in the hands of a man is tragic.

No woman’s life is unworthy of mourning. But the death of a woman like Lekganyane cuts straight through the heart. It leaves the world discombobulated, distressed and disheartened. It leaves a void that will never be filled. The pain is unimaginable.

The horror is unending. But even in our collective pain, we must refuse to remember her as just another statistic of femicide. While we must demand justice for her, we must also insist on remembering her not only for how she died, but for how she lived. We must remember her work in academia and in the rural communities that she was dedicated to uplifting.

We must tell our children and their children about the brilliant scientist that she was – a scientist who defied convention in demonstrating that indigenous knowledge is both scientific and crucial.

We must remember Lekganyane.