The Honeymoon is Over

I've had to endure this subdued headache for the past couple of weeks. It first emerged on an unsuspecting Sunday morning while reading about the murder of foreigner, Anni Dewani, in an apparent hijacking in Guguletu. Obviously the story soon developed racing horse legs and galloped off around a dizzying track of speculation. It wasn't long before the "Who dunnit?" question was transmogrified into a sensational "He could've dunnit" referring to Anni's husband, Shrien. And so the story galloped on and on, off the beaten track into the wilderness of rumours. Sure the incident had all the trademarks of a juicy story. The couple was on their honeymoon, they'd only been married a few weeks, etc. Then the uncomfortable questions - why wasn't Shrien harmed? What were they doing in a township at night in the first place?! The headache threatens to become a migraine.
Arrests followed, informal media blackouts put in place followed by journalists' favourite quote, "No comment" and further arid, mindless statements from the police as they awkwardly tried to dispell the rumours. They have failed dismally in this regard.
But amid all this, as a reporter also covering the story, I noticed a glaring lack of coverage of just how such an incident impacts on Joe Public. Of course Dewani's murder was a tragedy and the rumours doing the rounds must only add to the trauma her family is feeling. But what of the impact this single incident has had on the people of Guguletu, namely tour operators, informal vendors and other businesses. They rely almost solely on tourist money and in one fell swoop , either through the actions of common criminals or other more sinister motives, their livelihoods are in for a rather tough (tougher than usual) festive season.
We can formulate all the elaborate conspiracy theories we want, unleash our ire on intolerably high levels of crime, damn law enforcement authorities for not doing enough, but have we been asking just how big a dent into the daily livelihoods of township tour businesspeople this one case has made? I visited Guguletu in the days after Dewani's murder and was met with grim stories from tour guides on visitors cancelling their "township tours" en masse. The dollars, pounds and euros wafted off into the horizon. The hopeful ones I met kept smiles on their faces as they shrugged their shoulders saying things will and must get better.
Instead the spotlight stays trained on Shrien Dewani, a millionaire who has employed the services of one of Britain's most expensive PR agents to deal with us pesky journalists. I wonder, if all of Guguletu's tourist fraternity had to pool their resources together, would they even be able to pay one months salary of Dewani's fancy-pants "PR guru" to issue flowery statements from a cushy firts world office abroad. I doubt it. Shrien Dewani is innocent until proven guilty, that's the old adage one attach's to such matters, but he's not even a suspect at this stage.
However, if he ever were to be arrested I'd expect rage among township tour guides. One B and B owner in Guguletu spat venom after reading a newspaper report about the speculation around the businessman and the murder of his wife perhaps being a hit. "The bastard" she shouted, not taking into account the fact the story she was reading was based almost solely on unconfirmed details from the proverbial source.
Whether this was just another case of 'in the wrong place at the wrong time' or a hit, this woman had every right to be angry - not just because it could be yet another brutal example of South Africa's crime situation, but also because two tourists, either through their own naivety or through more untoward circumstances, Guguletu and almost all townships again have to endure the label of being crime havens.