A Morning Kiss, A Facebook Post, and a Shattered Dream
It started like any other ordinary morning. She put on a stylish white suit, kissed her husband goodbye, and stepped into her grey Mini Cooper. At exactly 8am, 35-year-old labour lawyer Chinette Gallichan set off for work. She had a bright future, a loving husband, and a deep passion for the law. Little did she know that her morning commute would be her last.
An hour later, her husband, Keegan Gallichan (36), dialled her number. It was a daily routine; he always called to make sure his wife had arrived safely. That fateful morning, Chinette was heading to a very important case at the offices of the Commission for Conciliation, Mediation and Arbitration (CCMA). The offices are situated in Marshalltown, right in the heart of central Joburg.
“She told me she was still driving but she was fine,” Keegan says.
Those would be the very last words he ever heard from his beloved wife.
Shortly after that brief phone call, Chinette was dead. She was gunned down in the street, shot three times in the head by two unknown men who quickly fled the scene on foot.
At the time, Keegan was at his workplace in Pretoria. He works as a representative for a weapons company. At 10.04am, he happened to scroll through his phone and read a post on the Facebook page of Intelligence Bureau SA. The page belongs to a private investigations business that posts regular crime updates for the public.
The update was brief but terrifying: “Attorney shot & killed: Fox cnr Joubert str,” it read.
Panic immediately set in. Keegan rushed to his car and raced towards Marshalltown.
“Something in me immediately said, ‘It’s Chinette’. I tried to call her about 40 times.”
But there was no answer; her phone just rang and rang.
"Everything in me kept hoping it wasn’t her. But halfway there her colleague called to ask if I’d been able to get hold of her . . . and then I knew.”
When he finally arrived at the scene an hour later, his worst fears were confirmed. He saw a body lying under a silver blanket right in the middle of an intersection.
“I pleaded to see her,” Keegan says. “I had to know if it was her.”
The police officers at the scene did not want to uncover her face, wishing to spare him the trauma. But as he stood there in the street, he noticed a pair of familiar cream-coloured shoes sticking out from under the edge of the blanket. Nearby, he spotted his wife’s brown briefcase and her cellphone, still secured inside its turquoise case.
After more pleading from the desperate husband, a police officer finally showed him his wife’s ID card.
“I’m actually grateful now that I didn’t see her – it would have been so incredibly brutal,” Keegan says as his eyes fill with tears. “At least I kissed her goodbye that morning before she left.”
The details surrounding the murder suggest a highly calculated attack. Eyewitnesses told the police that on that day, 23 March, Chinette had parked her car in her usual spot. She had just started walking towards the CCMA offices. It is believed that her killers had waited for her and followed her on foot. She was crossing the road diagonally when they opened fire, shooting her before running away.
When Keegan had arrived in Marshalltown after seeing the Facebook post, he had rushed to the CCMA building, a place he had accompanied her to before. The local car guard recognised him immediately.
“He just said ‘sorry’ and pointed me in the right direction.”
What makes this crime even more sinister is that it was not a robbery. None of his wife’s personal belongings were stolen.
“But that doesn’t matter to me because her life was stolen and they took my life away too.”
Chinette was a highly educated and driven woman. She worked as a legal representative for the large mining group Sibanye-Stillwater. At the time of her tragic death, she was representing her employer in a heated arbitration case regarding retrenchments.
Because of this, many people are wondering if her murder was directly connected to the work she was doing. Police have confirmed that two suspects are currently being sought and the exact motive remains under investigation. However, early reports and accounts from witnesses strongly suggest that she was targeted.
Freedom Under Law, a prominent non-profit group, has spoken out about the tragedy. The group raised serious concerns regarding the recent murders of lawyers, investigators, and whistleblowers. They noted that these attacks appear to be deliberate attempts to prevent criminal behaviour from being exposed in South Africa.
The organisation stressed that a society based on the rule of law requires lawyers to be able to do their jobs and represent their clients without the constant fear that fulfilling their basic professional duties could put their lives at risk.
“If lawyers cannot do so, the entire legal system and therefore our entire system of government would be under serious threat. We cannot allow the threat of violence to be normalised or to be used to intimidate legal practitioners and to manipulate the legal system.”
Despite the dangers of working in central Joburg, Keegan notes that Chinette never showed any signs of fear. He had previously voiced his own concerns about the high crime levels in the city centre when she first started working at the CCMA.
“But she always told me many attorneys do it.”
Furthermore, she kept her professional and personal lives completely separate.
“Work was work and home was home. If she was afraid of something, she wouldn’t have told me because she knew it would worry me.”
We meet Keegan at a quiet restaurant in Roodepoort. He requested this location rather than his home in Krugersdorp. His parents have travelled all the way from the Eastern Cape to support him during this dark time, and things are understandably fraught at the house.
“Fortunately, Chinette’s parents live just around the corner.”
Throughout our conversation, Keegan keeps twisting his wedding ring. The couple had a long history together. They had known each other since their high school days back when their parents were neighbours in Randfontein. After finishing school, they went their separate ways, but fate brought them back together. They reunited eight years ago and had been happily married for four years.
“She was the most beautiful person, inside and out. She had a passion for life. We always had to have a plan for weekends – she couldn’t just sit around.”
He recalls how she loved running and had successfully convinced him to join her at the local running club, Run Zone. They did everything together as a team.
“We always made prep meals together. The only times we weren’t together was when we were at work.”
Her ambition was boundless, he explains.
“She completed her LLB and two postgraduate law courses with distinction and she still wanted to do a master’s degree in labour law. She always fought for what was right, for justice.”
For now, he is satisfied with how the police are handling the investigation into his wife's death.
“They’re very active and I’ve received a call from them every day.”
He pauses, turning his ring once again as the reality of his loss sets in. They had big dreams for their future, dreams that have now been violently stolen from them.
“We planned to start a family in December, when we would both be more relaxed, but I don’t want a family that she can’t be part of.”
For a long moment, while the rain falls outside the restaurant window, Keegan is completely silent. The pain of her absence is heavy in the air.
‘IT FEELS LIKE SHE’S STILL PART OF ME EVEN THOUGH SHE’S NOT HERE . . . IT HURTS SO, SO MUCH’
“I don’t want to talk about our dreams anymore; it hurts too much. I want people to know who and what Chinette was. The strongest person I’ve ever known.”
