A Stolen Future, A Lost File: An Acid Attack Survivor’s Fight for Justice

Gavaza Mukansi’s life was cleaved in two on a day in 2022 outside her home in Dan village, Tzaneen. A brutal acid attack, allegedly at the hands of a neighbouring couple, left her with devastating burns on her face and body. But the physical scars are only part of her torment. The greater injury, she says, is a justice system that has seemingly abandoned her.

While she fought for her life in a hospital bed, the two suspects were arrested and released on bail. Then, without her knowledge, the case was withdrawn. The reason given to her: a lack of evidence. Now, years later, Mukansi is caught in a maddening limbo, battling to have her case reopened while the alleged perpetrators walk free.

A Trail of Silence and Missing Documents

“I have spent almost a year struggling to recover, and during that time, no police officer came or phoned me to update me,” Mukansi told The Citizen. Her journey for answers has been a labyrinth of buck-passing. The investigating officer directed her to the Department of Justice, where officials gave her no clear answers.

A chilling clue came from a court employee who suggested the case collapsed because “some documents concerning evidence went missing.” This admission points to a catastrophic administrative failure that has potentially denied a survivor her day in court.

“They Are Continuing With Their Lives”

Supported by the Elizabeth Home Foundation (EHF), an organization aiding crime victims, Mukansi is refusing to let her case fade. “The couple must be rearrested and spend time in prison if found guilty,” says EHF founder Elizabeth Shingange. “They are continuing with their lives, while this woman’s life has been ruined.”

The foundation is now seeking legal avenues to compel a review of the case, highlighting a systemic issue where victims, already traumatized, must become their own relentless advocates in a complex and often indifferent bureaucracy.

A Test of Accountability

Mukansi’s fight transcends her personal tragedy. It is a stark test of accountability for the police and the National Prosecuting Authority (NPA). Her question is simple yet profound: how can a case of such severe, life-altering violence be derailed by lost paperwork? Her demand is not just for her own sake, but a plea for a system that protects the vulnerable rather than re-victimizing them through negligence.

“My life is ruined,” she statesa sentiment that speaks not only to the attack but to the secondary betrayal by the institutions meant to deliver justice. As she and the Elizabeth Home Foundation press forward, her struggle becomes a symbol for every survivor left behind by a broken chain of evidence and a wall of official silence. The battle is no longer just in the courtroom she never entered; it’s in the offices and corridors of power where her file, and her future, went missing.