On March 21, 1960, residents of Sharpeville, a township in South Africa, assembled to protest against the oppressive pass laws that mandated “Black, Indian, and Coloured” South Africans to carry permits detailing their permitted locations. The day began with bright sunshine as Abraham Mofokeng, a 20-year-old factory worker, joined the demonstration organized by the Pan Africanist Congress (PAC), a splinter group from the African National Congress (ANC). Reflecting on that day, Mofokeng, now 86, recalled, “The weather was beautiful; one could not have anticipated the tragedy that would unfold.”
Thousands of peaceful protesters congregated outside the police station in Sharpeville, located approximately 40 miles south of Johannesburg in the industrially active Vaal Triangle. Mofokeng recounted that the crowd was singing when, without any warning, police opened fire. This violent incident, now referred to as the Sharpeville massacre, resulted in the deaths of at least 91 individuals and injuries to 238 others.
As Mofokeng attempted to escape the chaos, a bullet grazed his foot, causing his shoe to fly off. In the midst of the turmoil, he leapt over a fallen woman, continuing to run until he noticed blood streaming down his legs, only to discover he had been shot in the back, with a bullet still lodged in his spine.
Mofokeng is one of three individuals currently pursuing legal action against the South African government, seeking compensation for the massacre. Should their case prevail, it could pave the way for additional claims from others affected by the tragedy.
This legal action is part of a broader movement calling for accountability regarding crimes committed during the apartheid era. Many citizens express frustration towards the ANC-led government, which has struggled to address the significant racial disparities and poverty that persist more than three decades after the end of apartheid.
In January 2025, a group of 25 survivors and family members of victims of state violence during apartheid filed a lawsuit against the South African government for its failure to prosecute cases identified by the Truth and Reconciliation Commission (TRC). In response, President Cyril Ramaphosa announced a judicial inquiry into possible political interference, which is still in progress.
Officials from South Africa’s justice department did not respond to inquiries regarding the compensation case linked to the Sharpeville massacre.
In the aftermath of the Sharpeville incident, police claimed that demonstrators had been throwing stones. Local police commander Colonel J. Pienaar stated, “I don’t know how many we shot,” and described the protesters as a threatening mob. He suggested that such actions warranted a harsh response from law enforcement.
In July 1961, in response to compensation claims from victims, the apartheid government enacted a law protecting itself and its officials from legal repercussions for actions taken in the name of public order. This law, which applies retrospectively to the date of the massacre, remains in effect today, and the claimants’ legal representation argues that it is unconstitutional.
The claimants seek approximately 500,000 rand (£23,000) in compensation, according to Daniel Leader, a partner at the UK law firm Leigh Day, which is collaborating with Lawyers For Human Rights, a South African NGO leading the legal effort.
Mofokeng had previously received a one-time payment of 30,000 rand following the TRC’s findings in 2003, which had recommended annual reparations of around 20,000 rand for six years. “We continue to suffer,” Mofokeng lamented, expressing ongoing struggles with health and financial stability while still residing in Sharpeville.
The other two claimants were young children at the time of the massacre. Paulina Mathinye, who was just five years old when her father, Samson, lost his life, reminisced about the joy she felt upon his return from work. “I would run to him, and he would lift me up,” she recalled, revealing her confusion as to why her mother was crying in the aftermath of that fateful day.
Mathinye’s mother faced the daunting task of raising five children on a domestic worker’s salary, leading Mathinye, now 71, to leave school at 17 to seek employment instead of pursuing her dream of becoming a teacher. She expressed hope that the compensation could partially alleviate the losses she endured after her father’s death, saying, “Some of my friends became teachers and nurses, while I remain in the same house as my father.”
Vincent Thamae, a PAC member advocating for the massacre victims and their families, emphasized that Sharpeville’s troubles began long before the 1960 massacre. He pointed to the historical dispossession of Black South Africans, their forced relocations to townships, and their exclusion from economic participation. “When people discuss compensation now,” he noted, “they envision it as encompassing all the land they lost, their exclusion from the economy, and the treatment they have received in the current democracy.”
