Unforgiven: Face to Face with my Father's Killer

by Liz McGregor

"Liz McGregor has always been a great journalist but only South Africa could have wrung out of her this single-minded account of the murder of her beloved father. The book is an indescribable duty, exquisitely done." – Peter Bruce
"An enthralling account of the journey by a daughter to meet with those convicted of her father's murder." – Trevor Manuel
A searing, intimate memoir tracing the author's attempt to find out the truth about her father's murder.
Robin McGregor, an older man who has recently moved into a small town outside Cape Town, is brutally murdered in his home. Cecil Thomas is convicted for the crime, but his trial leaves more questions than answers. As much as his daughter Liz McGregor tries to move beyond her grief – she finds new work, she even discovers love – she still wants answers. What drove Thomas to torture and kill a complete stranger?
The author meets the murderer's family and discovers that he comes from a loving, comfortable home. He is educated and skilled, there is no apparent reason for his descent into delinquency. After protracted obstruction from the prison authorities, she finally gets to confront him but not without putting herself in danger. She finds answers, but not the answers she is looking for.
Unforgiven tells a story seldom what happens to a family when one of their own is murdered? In a country where, year upon year, tens of thousands of people lose a loved one to violence. Where restorative justice is preached but not practiced. Where prisons are universities of crime. What would it take to achieve redemption? For the victim, the perpetrator and the country?

Genres: Memoir

218 pages, Kindle Edition

Published April 1, 2022

Reviews

[Anschen Conradie · Rating 4 out of 5]

#Unforgiven – Liz McGregor
#JonathanBallPublishers

‘An enthralling account of the journey by a daughter to meet with the man convicted of her father’s murder.’ (Trevor Manuel)

Two days after her mother’s ashes was buried, Robin McGregor, father of journalist Liz McGregor, is murdered in his Tulbagh home. That day, 11 August 2008, would be a Damascus experience for the author and this memoir is the result. In her own words: ‘…I have always written my way out of despair. Simply recording and describing how I am feeling, and why, has always proven cathartic and shown me a way forward.’ (71)

Although Cecil Thomas was sentenced to 30 years imprisonment for the murder of her father, a lack of closure started the author’s journey to meet him, hoping to find answers when looking into his eyes, because ‘One of the difficulties of losing a loved one to murder is that closure is so much more complex.’ (21). There is no grieving in private; no silent coming to terms with the loss; the surviving loved ones often experience feelings of helplessness; of being swallowed by a huge bureaucratic machine of remaining a victim: ‘Being a victim intimate passivity, a lack of agency, someone to whom things are done…’ (226)

It is impossible to read the author’s words regarding her painful journey ‘My brain went into panic mode at the time… The alarm that went off then is still ringing. I am still on constant high alert for disaster.’ (70) and ‘It’s a truism to say that parents are always a part of their children…It’s not just the DNA they share… but also the way their voices are lodged in each other’s heads…’ (210) without empathy. She shares her innermost feelings in a brutally honest way; sadly, thousands of South Africans will be able to identify with her emotional journey, especially in respect of the effect of violent crime on those left behind in a country where so-called correctional centres have become universities of crime.

Although it is made very clear that the feelings, experiences and impressions shared in the book are those of the author, personally, a few paragraphs did not sit well with me. She states: ‘A murder trial is not about the victim. He or she is simply the backdrop to a contest between state and accused, each trying to attest the supremacy of its own narrative.’ (24) Whilst the first part is factually correct in respect of criminal cases, the latter sweeping statement is insulting to those in the legal profession proud of doing their jobs correctly and ethically. A similar statement is repeated when comparing restorative justice to retributive justice; ‘The theory is that the latter marginalises the victim and instead privileges professional – judge, lawyers, police. The offender’s deeds are seen as a crime against the laws of the state…’ (137) Whilst the latter part is indeed correct, it is painting an incomplete picture, failing to mention that although that is the worldwide nature of a criminal system, a system does exist that focuses solely on the rights of victims, namely the civil law. The author thus incorrectly creates the impression that the only system in operation is the penal option; that is simply not true and is blatantly ignoring all the available civil sanctions.

Whilst attending a victim-offender workshop, the author observes individuals injured in the Worcester bombing by the ‘Wit Wolwe’ on Christmas Eve, 1996, and comments: ‘They were random victims of crazed white supremacists…’ (171) This is a very poor choice of words; the suggestion that the perpetrators were mentally unstable or suffered from diminished capacity criminal has no factual basis.

Despite the misgivings regarding the aspects in the previous paragraphs, the memoir is brave, thought provoking and eloquently written. My heart ached reading one of the closing statements: ‘I have become increasingly aware of the shadow world that underlies our seemingly neat and ordered one.’ (251) It is an important book; an eye-opener creating awareness of the ever-increasing aftereffects of crime on society.

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️
#Uitdieperdsebek

[Yvonne · Rating 4 out of 5]

Poignant, heart breaking, and courageous. Highly recommended.

[Elite Group · Rating 5 out of 5]

I am in awe of Liz McGregor’s bravery.

“Two days after we bury my mother’s ashes, my father is murdered.” The shocking opening words of Liz McGregor’s Unforgiven. So often truth is much harder to read than fiction because you know that what’s written happened, it’s not something dreamed up by an author and on completing the book, I wished it were fiction because it’s so hard to follow as Liz McGregor delves into the gangs who were responsible for this atrocious murder.

Robin McGregor could trace his ancestors back to Stuartfield, Scotland, where three generations had run wool dying and bleaching, before Liz’s great-grandfather, Alexander, decided to immigrate to South Africa. When Liz’s parents moved to McGregor, a beautiful quaint village on the edge of the Little Karoo, they called their house Quartalehouse in honour of their ancestors’ home in Scotland.

After her mother’s death, he decided to move to Tulbagh, another beautiful village in the Western Cape. He painted the outside of the house sunflower yellow and, possibly, the workers employed in the refurbishments, let word slip that here was a man with money and a safe. Having broken in, the villains didn’t just simply rob the house but instead slaughtered Robin McGregor by using the most barbaric means possible. His car was used as the get-away car and was found in Bellville. The police spotted the car and arrested the two men who were standing next to it: Cecil Thomas and Maurice Bennett.

Cecil Thomas was charged with Robin McGregor’s murder. His story kept changing and he kept saying “they” in every statement meaning that he had not acted alone. Liz McGregor and her family sat through the trial, listening to the horrendous evidence of what happened that night. That should have been the end of the matter, but it wasn’t enough for Liz. She needed to face Cecil Thomas to find out the reasons behind the murder. Why her father? Why the barbaric murder? However, getting to speak to the man, she would have to go through the bureaucracy that rules the prisons. Not just the rules set by the department overseeing the prisons, but even worse, the rules set by the various gangs.

I learned so much from reading this extraordinarily painful story. It helped me understand some of the pain my own family felt when intruders brutally murdered my nephew’s brother-in-law. I’ve known for a long time that prisons in South Africa are run by gangs. However, what I imagined behind my rose-covered glasses is far from the reality of what truly happens in prisons.

Liz McGregor’s courage to find the truth left me in awe of her tenacity to find the truth. The writing and language used by Liz McGregor are crisp and clear and the deep feelings she and her family went through after this traumatic experience can be felt in each word. This is a must-read for so many reasons. What Liz discovered may help others find some answers.

I was left wondering having read the last sentence, whether I would have been as brave as Liz? Would I spend my time trying to get the answers? I hope I’m never tested.

Rony

Elite Reviewing Group received a copy of the book to review.

[Fatima Mamod · Rating 5 out of 5]

Loss, pain and grief are universal…reading about her journey offered a strange form of relief…her story interweaves through so much that we can relate to.

[Karen Watkins · Rating 3 out of 5]

Two days after his wife’s ashes are interred, Robin McGregor is brutally murdered in his Tulbagh home.
Trying in vain to move beyond her grief, journalist Liz McGregor, one of his five children, is determined to find out why someone would torture a man for an hour and stab him 24 times
before slitting his throat.
Having gone through the case records, McGregor sits through the trial wanting to understand
Cecil Thomas who sits in the dock with many female family members in the court room.
Where did he come from? And what made him do what he did?
Thomas comes from a respected family in Saron, close to Tulbagh. He sought to educate himself and was a skilled boilermaker who also played rugby.
He was sentenced to 30 years imprisonment for the murder, leaving McGregor with a lack of closure and more questions than answers.
The judge described Thomas as untruthful and also never believed his story. This triggers a journey as McGregor does everything she can to make contact with Thomas’s family and to meet him face to face.
Meanwhile, becoming obsessive, her health deteriorates. On the brighter side she meets a man who supports her in her quest as she visits Brandvlei and Voorberg prisons, meeting a pastor and a retired warder from Pollsmoor whom she hires.
After hitting brick walls from the prison authorities she gets to confront Thomas. After a three-hour confrontation she learns about how gangs grew out of the mines, their hierarchy, uniform and language and most importantly, how powerful they are.
This was a difficult book to read, leaving me dissatisfied with a story that has no ending.
It must have been unsatisfying for McGregor, making me wonder why she persevered and then went on to spend four years researching and writing this intimate memoir.
It also had me questioning her comparing restorative justice to retributive justice and also statements about the legal profession – judges, lawyers, police and prison warders.
Conversely the information about the gangs and what was happening to Thomas inside our prisons
after his sentence made it a worthwhile read.
Not having found the answers she was looking for, McGregor must now feel fulfilled in her duty to
her dad.
She says her next book will be something frivolous.