In the last hours of her life, Anni Dewani did the kind of things brides on honeymoon do – a romantic dinner by the sea, a moonlit walk on the beach and a long drive out of the city, all with her new husband by her side.
Perhaps she felt safe as they drove deep into Gugulethu at 11pm on November 13. Maybe she thought there would be nightlife. At that time of night Mzolis was closed, and they headed on, looking for excitement. A block further on they found more than they could ever have bargained for.
Retracing the Dewanis’ tracks that night, our team started at the Cape Grace Hotel at the V&A Waterfront just after 8pm.
At that time, the sun was setting behind the white and grey buildings of the mall. Just beyond the hotel’s parking lot, luxury yachts floated in the harbour.
With chauffeur Zola Tongo at the wheel, the Dewanis drove along the N2 to Gugulethu, supposedly to visit Mzolis. But they arrived to find Mzolis had closed at 7pm.
They decided to drive on to the Strand.
When Weekend Argus arrived at Mzolis about 8.30pm last week, all that was left were three women huddled in a corner, a dog chewing on a scrap of braai meat and the remnants of a party – plastic bottles, wrappers, paper plates and food – scattered on the ground.
However, the main road, NY108 – the same one in which the Dewanis were hijacked – just next to the restaurant, still bustled. Taxis sped down the street, last minute traders sold their goods and people headed home from work, or chatted outside with their neighbours.
At about 9pm, our team drove towards Somerset West, taking the N2, as the Dewanis had.
The long, dark stretch of road made it daunting to travel anything over the speed limit, but if one thing was clear, it was that the Dewanis were in a rush.
When they arrived at the Surfside restaurant at the Strand Pavillion, it was late – but not too late to order sushi from the restaurant’s sushi bar, which closes at 10pm.
They took a seat to the left of the restaurant, overlooking the beach.
Through the slow, classic songs playing in the restaurant a steady bass beat could be heard, emanating from the bar.
Their waiter Támar said the Dewanis been reserved but friendly, and were dressed very smartly. There were no signs that anything was amiss.
They ate quickly and had left by 10.30pm. It was a beautiful night and they took a stroll on the beach they had seen from the windows of Surfside.
When we visited the beach, it was windy and dark, no place for late night strollers. Except for a few fishermen, the beach was deserted and badly lit. The waves were only just visible against the darkness; the sound of them crashing to the ground barely audible above the wind. Every now and then, a cloud of grainy beach sand whipped across the shore.
It was after 11pm when we finally made it back onto the N2, heading towards Gugulethu for the second time that night.
This time, the streets were not as vibrant as before. There were no residents wandering about in the streets, no hooters ringing in the night air.
At Mzolis, the lights were still on, illuminating the undercover eating area, but there was no one to be seen. There was no sign of a party anywhere in Gugulethu. The streets were lifeless.
It is unclear whether Anni Dewani and her husband Shrien – who is alleged to have hired hitmen to kill his wife – even saw the outside of Mzolis.
They passed the restaurant and stopped at the next intersection, though there was no stop sign and no apparent reason for them to come to a halt. A street lamp illuminated the spot where they stopped. Then, two men - allegedly Mziwamadoda Qwabe and Xolile Mngeni - approached Tongo’s VW Sharan, pointing guns.Anni Dewani’s honeymoon, which had just hours before seemed like any other romantic getaway, came to a terrifying, violent end. - Weekend Argus
