It was supposed to be the beginning of a fairy tale. After years of living out of suitcases in hotel rooms, 35-year-old Sarika Bridgmohan believed she was finally on the verge of the life she had always dreamed of. Her husband, Ramith Aneerudh, had promised her a beautiful new home in the affluent coastal suburb of Umhlanga. On that fateful morning of 13 March 2024, when they climbed into her car, she thought they were simply driving to a lawyer’s office to finalise the purchase of their future.
Instead, the man she had vowed to love and honour was driving her to her own execution.
In a case that has gripped South Africa with its sheer cold-bloodedness, the full, harrowing details of Sarika’s ordeal have finally come to light following the recent sentencing of her husband in the Umbumbulu Regional Court. It is a story of a digital romance that turned into a literal death trap, involving hired killers, a desperate escape from a moving vehicle, and a betrayal so profound it has left a seasoned beauty therapist questioning if she can ever trust another human being again.
A Romance Born On Tinder
The tragedy began as many modern love stories do: with a swipe to the right. Sarika and Ramith met on the dating app Tinder in January 2021. At first, the 38-year-old Aneerudh seemed to be everything a woman could want. Sarika recalls him as being "very kind and caring" during their initial months of dating. He spoke of a grand future, of stability, and of a deep, abiding love.
The relationship moved at a whirlwind pace. By July 2021, just six months after their first digital encounter, the pair were married in an intimate ceremony in Durban. Aneerudh’s calm and collected demeanour didn't just win over Sarika; he charmed everyone in her inner circle, including her parents and her closest friends. He claimed to be a successful businessman running a construction company, a detail that added to the veneer of a promising future.
However, the "happily ever after" was short-lived. The façade of the successful construction mogul began to crack almost as soon as the honeymoon ended.
The Crumbling Façade
The first signs of trouble were financial. Strangers began appearing at their door, not with gifts, but with demands for money that Aneerudh allegedly owed them. The couple moved frequently, eventually settling into the Coastlands Hotel, but the change of scenery did nothing to stop the rot.
Sarika soon noticed that her life was being picked apart. Her jewellery began to vanish. Her clothes disappeared. Most disturbingly, mysterious and large withdrawals started appearing on her bank statements. As the financial pressure mounted, Aneerudh’s behaviour took a dark and violent turn, fueled by escalating alcohol abuse.
"If he had alcohol, he would fight," Sarika reveals. "By fighting, I mean swearing, getting angry, yelling at people, coming to argue with me – and even strangling me on one occasion."
Despite these glaring red flags, Sarika, like many victims of domestic abuse, chose to forgive. She confided in friends but kept the worst of the abuse hidden from her family, hoping that the promise of the new house in Umhlanga would be the fresh start they needed to save their marriage.
The Planned Execution
The morning of 13 March 2024 was meant to be that fresh start. But as they drove, the route began to feel wrong. Aneerudh turned the car onto an isolated gravel road in Winklespruit, a quiet area south of Durban. The dense trees and the glint of a nearby dam sent a chill through Sarika.
In a moment of dark intuition, she tried to lighten the mood with a joke that would later haunt her. "I asked, ‘Why are you bringing me here? This place is so scary. Are you going to kill me and dump my body in the dam?’" she recalls. Aneerudh didn't laugh. He didn't even speak. He simply kept driving into the trap he had set.
Waiting for them in a parked Opel Corsa were two hired killers: 38-year-old Kyle Goldstone and 47-year-old Deon Tyler Naidu. The horror that followed was calculated and brutal. The men swarmed the car, and Sarika was subjected to a terrifying assault. As she was being robbed and strangled with a rope that her own husband had brought along for the occasion, Aneerudh did nothing.
While his wife fought for her breath and screamed for mercy, Aneerudh stood by as a silent spectator to her murder. But he wasn't just watching; he was busy. While Sarika was being brutalised, he used her own cellphone to access her banking apps, draining her accounts as she lay dying.
An Incredible Act Of Survival
Believing Sarika was dead, the attackers threw her into the vehicle and drove her to a remote sugarcane plantation in Ifafa, on the KZN South Coast—a place where bodies are often hidden and never found. But Sarika Bridgmohan is a survivor.
In an incredible display of resilience, she regained consciousness as the vehicle was moving through the plantation. Realising that her only chance was to jump, she threw herself from the moving car, suffering severe injuries to her knees, neck, and back. She managed to flag down a passing motorist—a woman driving with her daughter—who stopped to rescue her.
"If she hadn’t arrived at that moment, I don’t know what would have happened," Sarika says. "God was on my side that day."
While Sarika was being rushed to safety, her husband was finalising the "payment" for her death. Investigations later revealed that Aneerudh had given Goldstone R1,000 in cash at the scene. Later that day, using Sarika’s stolen phone, he sent an additional R300 via e-wallet to the killers for "fuel and cigarettes." He had also successfully withdrawn R40,000 from her accounts before vanishing.
The Manhunt And Sentencing
The crime sparked a massive manhunt led by the South African Police Service and the private security firm Reaction Unit South Africa (RUSA). RUSA head Prem Balram revealed that they tracked the stolen vehicle through social media leads all the way to Coffee Bay in the Eastern Cape, some 600km away.
When the RUSA team and police finally closed in, they found Aneerudh on a mountainside, reportedly attempting to hang himself. He, along with Goldstone and Naidu, were arrested and brought back to KwaZulu-Natal to face justice.
In the Umbumbulu Regional Court, the three men eventually pleaded guilty to a string of charges, including attempted murder, conspiracy to commit murder, kidnapping, robbery with aggravating circumstances, and theft. Aneerudh was sentenced to 25 years in prison, a sentence that Sarika watched him receive while he was led away in shackles.
The Long Road To Recovery
For Sarika, the legal victory is only the beginning of a much longer battle. The psychological scars are as deep as the physical ones. She now suffers from frequent panic attacks, particularly when she sees a car following her in traffic.
"I’ve never struggled with anxiety before, but now I do," she admits. The betrayal is what hurts the most. Despite Aneerudh’s claims in court that he was on drugs at the time of the crime, Sarika remains unconvinced. "I’ve never seen him take drugs. I don’t think he could even afford them… they’re expensive."
Today, the self-employed beauty therapist is in the process of divorcing the man who tried to sell her life for the price of a tank of petrol and a few packs of cigarettes. She is rebuilding her life through therapy and fitness, surrounded by a support system of loved ones who never suspected the monster hiding behind Ramith Aneerudh’s calm smile.
While she hasn't entirely closed the door on the idea of a family and a future relationship, the shadow of the sugarcane plantation looms large. "I’m not sure if I’ll ever be able to fully trust anyone again," she says quietly.
In the end, Sarika Bridgmohan’s story is a chilling reminder of the dangers that can lurk behind a digital profile, but it is also a testament to the indomitable will of a woman who refused to stay "dead" in a sugarcane field. For the readers of Celeb Gossip News, her survival is the only part of this story that isn't a tragedy.
Editor's Note: If you or someone you know is experiencing domestic violence, please contact the Gender-Based Violence Command Centre on 0800 428 428 or the SAPS emergency line on 10111. You do not have to suffer in silence.
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