Vincent Thamae recalls his grandfather’s tales about the Sharpeville massacre.
On March 21, 1960, the apartheid police in South Africa opened fire on peaceful demonstrators in a township located south of Johannesburg, resulting in the deaths of numerous men, women, and children.
“My grandfather often said that those who did that were not human beings,” Thamae, a resident of Sharpeville, shared with As It Happens host Nil Köksal. “It was only as I matured that I started to grasp the meaning of his words.”
Since 2018, Thamae has been gathering accounts from survivors and the families of victims through the organization Voices of Sharpeville. He now serves as a liaison for these survivors with a legal team assisting them in initiating a class-action lawsuit against the government.
The lawsuit aims to secure compensation for the victims and their descendants and requests that the government abolish an apartheid-era law that protects South African officials from accountability related to the massacre.
‘Not possible to forget’
Thousands gathered in Sharpeville to protest against apartheid pass laws, which limited movement and enforced racial segregation, when police opened fire.
According to police records from that time, 69 individuals were reported dead and 180 injured, while research referenced by the plaintiffs suggests the death toll was 91, with over 238 wounded.
Abram Mofokeng, 87, was just 20 years old when he was shot in both his foot and back while attempting to escape the gunfire. A bullet remains embedded in his back.
“For me, it’s impossible to forget what transpired in 1960,” Mofokeng stated. “I find it hard to go a single day without reflecting on the impact it has had on us.”
Abram Mofokeng, 87, a survivor of the Sharpeville Massacre, is photographed at the memorial site for victims in Sharpeville on September 3, 2026. (Phil Magakoe/AFP/Getty Images)
Mofokeng is among three residents of Sharpeville serving as representative plaintiffs in the case brought by Lawyers for Human Rights.
The other representatives, Paulina Mathinye and Ishmael Poho, both lost their fathers during the massacre when they were still young children.
More than 70 survivors and family members have shown interest in or expressed support for the litigation.
The government has not responded to inquiries for comment.
Why now?
For years, those affected have been pursuing compensation. Following the massacre, approximately 258 claims were submitted. However, in 1961, the government passed the Indemnity Act, which protected officials from legal action and nullified the claims.
Although apartheid officially ended in South Africa in 1994, the protective law is still in effect.
The attorneys for the Sharpeville plaintiffs are advocating for the repeal of this law, arguing that it infringes on their clients’ constitutional right to access the judicial system.
They also pointed out that the case aims to fill the gaps left by the Truth and Reconciliation Commission process, which formally awarded reparations to only 51 survivors from Sharpeville.
Dan Leader, a partner at the British human rights law firm Leigh Day, which is assisting the plaintiffs, described the case as part of South Africa’s “unfinished business.”
“This era calls for accountability in contemporary South Africa,” Leader remarked.
Participants reenact the 1960 Sharpeville Massacre at the memorial site for victims in Sharpeville on Thursday. (Phil Magakoe/AFP/Getty Images)
If the plaintiffs succeed in overturning the Indemnity Act, their claims for damages will be able to proceed. The legal team did not provide a total amount for the claims but stated that it would differ for each individual and would be determined with the assistance of specialists.
Thamae, affiliated with the Pan Africanist Congress political party, is optimistic that reparations could extend beyond financial compensation to include long-term advantages, such as ensuring educational access for the children of the plaintiffs.
He notes that many residents of Sharpeville from that period were dispossessed of their lands by the apartheid government, an impact that continues to affect subsequent generations.
“They were excluded from participating in the country’s economy,” he remarked.
Thamae mentions that collecting narratives from survivors and descendants of victims is a slow and painful process that often reopens old wounds that have never fully healed.
“We still struggle to comprehend how other human beings could commit such acts against the people. We have yet to reconcile with the events that transpired.”