Oscar: An Accident Waiting to Happen (2 page)

Samantha was 16 years old when she first met Oscar Pistorius. It was August 2010. He was 23.

She was standing in line at a food stall, during the second half of a rugby game at Ellis Park Stadium in Johannesburg, when she and a friend found themselves chatting to a group of twenty-something-year-old guys. Oscar was one of them. With her long blonde hair and pretty, petite looks, Samantha had always attracted attention. Even at nursery school, with her fine, almost silvery wispy hair and beautiful huge brown eyes, all the moms were sizing her up for their sons. She had that girl-next-door quality and men were immediately drawn to her.

Three months later, in November, Oscar added Samantha as a friend on Facebook. I remember Sammy coming to me that day, all excited, eyes shining and saying: “Mom, you know that guy I told you about who I met at the rugby match? I think you might know who he is.” She then told me his name. “Have you ever heard of him?” she asked, innocently.

I said, “Yes, of course I have heard of him – he’s the famous runner, the one with no legs.”

Sam then said, “You know our birthdays are both on 22 November.” She seemed intrigued by the fact that they were astral twins. After that, I didn’t really give it much more thought. Little did I know then that this would mark the beginning of something that would come to consume our lives over the next three years.

When they first met, both Samantha and Oscar were involved in other relationships. In January 2011, Sam had just begun her final year at school, known as matric in South Africa; and from early that year until that July, Oscar sent her a few messages on Facebook. But my daughter was never one to want to hurt an ant, never mind another person and so, very aware that she was still happily involved with someone, she played it cool. Oscar confessed that he, too, was involved in someone else. But by July 2011, they both had broken off their previous relationships. Or at least that’s what Oscar said.

Soon, Oscar and Sammy were texting on their BlackBerries day and night. Oscar had gone overseas to South Korea that August to run in the World Athletic Championships and when he returned in September 2011, he was on a high: he’d made history as the first amputee to run alongside able-bodied athletes in a world championship when he qualified for the 400 metres semi-finals. We were all very impressed and proud of him when we heard the news. Within days of arriving back in Johannesburg, he went to meet Samantha on their first date. Sammy was over the moon with excitement.

At the time, we were living like gypsies. We had decided to relocate to Somerset West, a small town, 30 kilometres outside Cape Town, but because Sammy had to first finish up her last year of school in Dainfern, an upmarket gated suburb in northern Johannesburg, where we had lived for the past few years, we were running two households.

I was in the Cape when Sammy called me and told me Oscar had arrived back in South Africa and was on his way to see her. She called me straight after he left that night and told me how they had had a lovely evening at home, playing pool and having dinner together. She sounded so happy, and from what she told me, he
appeared to be a nice, genuinely kind guy. She was clearly taken with him.

It was strange that by the time they actually met, they already seemed completely in sync, like two parts of the same person. It was true that it was just their first date, yet because they had kept in such close contact, it was as though they had known each other forever when they finally started to see each other. Everything was in place for the romance to take off. And it did. It was soon clear it was more than some brief infatuation.

At that point I began to be concerned about how this relationship might affect Samantha. I went through quite an emotional period, worrying and stressing about the whole thing. I couldn’t sleep much at night. I had a lot of mixed feelings; to be honest I worried about him being disabled. I kept thinking, what’s going to happen when we go to the beach? In the Cape our family spent a lot of time at the ocean. I kept thinking what was going to happen when we climbed over the dunes and rocks. Would he be able to handle it? Could he swim? Could he walk on sand with his legs? What if we had braais (barbecues) at home around the pool? Did he take his legs off to swim? What kind of future could my daughter really have with someone who was disabled? My mind ran away with itself.

Although I was extremely close to Sammy I just couldn’t bring myself to voice these concerns with her. She looked so happy I didn’t want to do anything to spoil that beautiful space she was in. So I never spoke of these worries to my daughter because I didn’t want to make a big thing of it, or appear to be overreacting. I made peace with the idea that we would simply have to plan our days differently when the need arose.

While Oscar’s physical mobility was one concern, the other was that he was a celebrity, and a very high-profile one at that. I didn’t want Sam to have to cope with intense media exposure. I didn’t want any of the family to be exposed in that way, in fact. But I was especially concerned for Sammy. I didn’t want her to be damaged by the press. She was so vulnerable, plus she was so young, still at school – and Oscar was much more experienced in the ways of the world.

I met Oscar face to face a week or two after their first date.

I remember observing him getting out of his car, a big BMW, and I was struck by how tall he was. In actual fact without his prosthetics, I would find out later, he was really short, just a little over 5 foot.

I found him extremely charming and well mannered. In fact, if anything, his humility seemed almost excessive. My initial worries and concerns seemed to disappear because we were all so at ease with each other. I wondered whether I hadn’t been overreacting. I suddenly felt like everything was going to be okay, especially because watching Sammy and Oscar together was such a pleasure: they had an amazing vibe between them, and seemed filled with such love and joy. The comfortable, intimate vibe they shared was apparent to everyone. We all noticed the chemistry between them. It was hard to miss. Everyone who met them commented on what a lovely couple they made.

By October they were seeing each other almost daily even though Samantha was very busy preparing for her final-year exams. While Oscar trained on the track and at the gym, Samantha spent much of November at his lavish home in a gated community in Pretoria.

When Oscar and Samantha first started seeing each other, he would drive the 50 minutes from Pretoria to Dainfern, Johannesburg, to pick her up. He would come into the house and greet us all politely; he was the picture of good manners. By the beginning of November, however, Sammy had learned how to use the Gautrain, an underground and overland train line between Johannesburg and Pretoria, and from then on she made the journey on her own. I was somewhat annoyed that Sam was at his beck and call, but she didn’t seem to mind. I was also concerned about her safety, travelling alone, but again forced myself to remain quiet and let it be.

On 22 November 2011, Oscar’s and Sammy’s shared birthday, Samantha was writing her final exam. She decided to celebrate the end of school and her 18th birthday by throwing a cocktail party on the following day, 23 November.

The house was a hive of activity. Preparations, in fact, had begun days in advance. Food was being made, tables laid. Slush
puppies with frozen strawberry daiquiris and margaritas proved to be the hit of the night, the signature party drinks. A friend of ours had arranged to have two chocolate birthday cakes made – perfect for both Sammy and Oscar, who were both crazy about chocolate.

Oscar arrived early, along with an old school friend. He was in a wonderful mood. He gave Sammy a perfume gift set and a balloon while Sammy and our family gave Oscar a gun-metal nomination bracelet, which he really loved. They were clearly delighted to be there together.

Sammy looked beautiful. I always think that all of my children are stunning, as all moms do, but Sammy really was glowing and radiant that night. She had just finished her matric exams, was turning 18, and she was in love. The world was her oyster.

It was a wonderful night. Sammy, Oscar and their friends sat outside around the swimming pool, chatting and laughing under the silver stars. Later on, Sammy got the dancing going and the party went on late into the night. It seemed more a celebration of their love than a birthday party.

Earlier I had told Sammy to tell Oscar to sleep over. I didn’t want him driving back to Pretoria after having had quite a lot to drink. From then on he stayed with us regularly. I think he must have thought it was the norm, although I have never been comfortable with any of my other children having their partners stay over.

I slept well that night. It felt like all my worries had been for nothing. It was obvious how happy they were together. It was also clear that he would be part of our lives and that, no matter what, it would be okay that he was disabled. That night, I felt certain that he would be able to protect Sammy from media overzealousness or anyone who tried to hurt her.

They were both clearly besotted with each other. He always used to put her on his lap and hold her so tightly. It seemed almost as if he made himself feel more secure by holding on to her. When she walked around, his eyes always followed her everywhere. He wouldn’t let her out of his sight.

When he trained, she would either go to the track with him, or they would go to the gym together. He really got her out of her comfort zone, and she began to be more adventurous, which we all thought was good for Sammy, as she tended to be very quiet, even withdrawn. They often visited his granny, whom he adored. And on rare occasions they went to his Uncle Arnold’s house in Waterkloof, an upmarket suburb of Pretoria. According to Sammy, Arnold’s home was both massive and stunning, situated on park-like grounds with an impressive dam. (At one point, after Oscar’s mother’s early death, Oscar was meant to go and live with his uncle but for some reason he stayed with other family members and friends, and then, at age 17, bought a house and started living on his own.) I always felt such compassion for Oscar when I thought about that time in his life, losing his mom while he was really still a child, and then being obliged to take care of himself, never mind having to deal with a challenging disability. I thought he must be very brave.

Sam and Oscar both loved the outdoors and they went on long, scenic drives, hiked up mountains and spent time near the ocean. Once, after they went for a walk in the mountains, Sam came home and told me how he had carried her on his shoulders and what fun they had had. Afterwards, on that particular day, they went to have breakfast with Granny.

Whenever Oscar came to Cape Town, he used to message all his CT friends to join him for a game of touch rugby at the beach. They’d all meet up at Camps Bay or Llandudno, both scenic areas along Cape Town’ s beautiful ocean front and Sam (and sometimes, I) would go along and watch. Oscar got such joy out of things that involved physical exertion; it was as though he had all this energy bottled up that he needed to use up.

One thing I noticed – no matter how swelteringly hot the day was, Oscar never swam in front of people. He once told me that when he was a little boy, he was really comfortable showing his stumps but as he got older, he had become much more self-conscious. Despite being so open in front of the world about having had his legs amputated, I was sad that he didn’t feel relaxed
enough to take off his prosthetics and enjoy a swim. In fact, the only time he ever took his legs off at our house was when he slept.

But Oscar had many other interests, besides sports. Like food. He really adored cooking and enjoyed preparing salad lunches and healthy meals together with Sam – mainly chicken dishes – with no carbs at night. He was strict with his diet, apart from a sweet tooth, and he was insistent on avoiding oily food. He was also a very creative chef and sometimes spoke about how he would love to have his own restaurant. He dreamed of settling down in the wine country, getting married and running a restaurant where he would do all the cooking. Cooking, it seemed, gave him the opportunity for some serenity in his demanding schedule.

In those early days, Sam really enjoyed being at Oscar’s side and sharing this time with him. At his house, they enjoyed relaxing, and watching a lot of movies and sport on TV. Oscar was the one who first told us about the series
My Big Fat Gypsy Wedding
after which we all started watching it together and laughed together over it. Even now we’re all still hooked on it.

Oscar got up really early and often napped in the afternoons. When he was training, Sam learned how to time his running. We all became more interested in athletics and more aware of running times; we were especially aware of what times he had to achieve to qualify for the Olympics. Ampie, his trainer, was usually at the track to oversee his training. He was always very nice to Sam, except for one day when he made a faux pas and called her Jenna by mistake, making Sam presume that his ex, Jenna, must have recently been with Oscar at the track, something that upset her a lot.

Yet it seemed with Oscar, for every feel-good story, there was a troubling one. Soon after he and Sammy started seeing each other, I heard that he had broken the speed limit by driving over 300 kilometres an hour in one of the fast cars he was so obsessed with driving. Sammy was in the passenger seat next to him. I was furious when I found out and made him promise never to speed with her in his car again. He didn’t deny it and acted very contrite, promising me it would not happen again. I soon found
out, however, that his promises were short lived. That was another discovery I soon made about Oscar: he was able to seamlessly distort the truth, while being extremely convincing. These often took the form of “white lies”, invented to spare Samantha or our family disappointment. Initially we overlooked this trait, but over time it became increasingly difficult to discern fact from fiction.

Our family always made sure we were together over Christmas, and 2011 was no different. By mid-December the whole family was down in the Cape, in our new home in Somerset West. Oscar had hired a house in Llandudno, not far away, for himself and his “best friends”, who seemed to come and go quite regularly. They were to meet up on 26 December, so I invited him to come down a little earlier to spend Christmas with Sammy and the rest of us.