I had my throat slit - but I played dead to survive and get justice

Alison Botha, a survivor of an unimaginable attack, has recounted her traumatic experience. In 1994, at the age of 27, Alison was abducted and brutally gang-raped, resulting in her disembowelment. She was left clinging to her intestines as her severely injured head hung limply, nearly resting on her shoulder blades.

A native of Port Elizabeth, South Africa, Alison was a model student and was appointed head girl of her school in 1985, known for her positivity and strong moral compass. At the time of the incident, she was working as an insurance broker. On the evening of December 18, 1994, after socializing with friends, Alison returned home.

Reflecting on that fateful night, she said: "I had just turned off the engine and flicked off the headlights - it was so routine that I didn't all in one swift movement.", reports the . As she reached for her laundry on the passenger seat, a blonde man, Frans DuToit, the son of a police officer, forced his way into her car. DuToit threatened to kill her, claiming he only wanted to use the car for an hour, according to the Mirror US.

Alison remembered feeling "strangely immobilised". Du Toit menacingly asked: "You live in number one don't you" - a question that felt more like a threat.

In a desperate bid to establish a connection with her kidnapper, Alison offered him the car, but he insisted he "wanted company", as reported by Morbid. After leaving the town behind, Du Toit drove past a gathering of people on the street, his eyes searching for one individual - Theuns Krugeras.

The short figure dressed in black made his way to the car and slipped into the passenger seat. Du Toit, who had introduced himself as "Clinton", shuffled the driver's seat forward to accommodate Krugeras, presenting Alison (who was also under an alias, "Susan") as his companion.

They headed towards a suburb outside Port Elizabeth, shrouded in an unsettling quiet until Du Toit remarked, "Theuns doesn't speak good English." As they neared a secluded wooded area, Du Toit brought the car to a halt on a sandy patch. Krugeras stepped out, and then 'Clinton' proceeded to sexually assault Alison.

Krugeras joined in the attack but suddenly ceased, exclaiming, "no I can't do this" and mistakenly addressed his accomplice as "Frans". This name stuck with Alison. Frans then warned Alison, "If we take you into town now you'll go to the police". Du Toit ominously added, "what do you think Oom Nick would want us to do with her."

Oom Nick is a sinister nod to Satan in Afrikaans culture. Krugeras chillingly replied: " I think he wants us to kill her." They coerced Alison into removing her jewellery and clothing before Du Toit strangled her into unconsciousness, muttering an apology throughout. When Alison came to, she was surrounded by trash and witnessed an arm slashing before her eyes.

To her horror, she realised he was slicing her throat. She recounted the terrifying moment when she "could hear the flesh slit."

Subsequently, it was disclosed that her assailants had sliced her throat 16 times, nearly beheading Alison.

The attack came to a sudden halt, and Alison managed to turn onto her belly. She recalled: "I tried to hold my breath but I realised I had no control over my breathing - I moved my hand up to cover my neck - my whole hand disappeared into it, but it seemed to have worked - the sound was silenced."

Feigning death, she listened as one assailant inquired if they thought she was deceased, met with the eerie affirmation "no one can survive that". Amidst her grievous wounds, Alison resolved to ensure her assailants faced justice - she etched their names into the sand coupled with the stirring notation "I love mom."

Commenting on the feeling of her injuries, she reminisced: "It was as if I'd cut moorings. As I hovered there I recognised the person down below - I knew it was me and I felt such a strong connection to that bleeding mangled girl lying on her stomach."

Catching glimpses of light, she discerned she was nearer to the road than previously believed. Gathering every ounce of willpower, she propped herself on her knees, reached for her abdomen, and touched something "tepid, wet and slimy".

Upon lowering her gaze, she was confronted by the gruesome view of her own intestines spilling out from her abdomen.

Recounting the harrowing ordeal, she said "it was horrifying there was just so much of me on the outside. I tried to scoop it all up with my hands but everything just slithered away again."

After being assaulted with over 50 stabs to her abdomen, she utilised a shirt to keep her intestines internal while debris and shattered glass tore at her hands and knees. With half of her thyroid hanging from her neck, she was haunted by the thought of her family's anguish if they ever discovered the gruesome trail she bled in what could've been her dying moments.

She explained: "My head had flopped backwards and almost rested between my shoulder blades. I expected to feel something but was completely taken aback when my hand disappeared inside me almost like I had swallowed myself."

In an astonishing effort to survive, she cradled her head forward with one hand and clutched her intestines with the other, lying across the road to compel drivers to halt. Despite her frantic attempts to attract attention, the first vehicle veered around her.

Finally, at 2.45 am, rescue came heralded by a woman's screams and the assistance of a young man, an hour and a half after her nightmarish experience began.

Tiaan Eilerd, a vet out with friends, stumbled upon Alison and immediately attended to her critical condition, securing her thyroid back into place - an action which turned out to be life-saving. Alison later acknowledged him as her "lifeline".

Tiaan was utterly astounded to find Alison still clinging to life, likening her frightful appearance to a "creature straight out of a Dickens novel" due to the ghastly wound that gaped across her neck "almost ear to ear".

The violence inflicted upon Alison was unspeakable; she had suffered repeated stab wounds to her intestines and her abdominal muscles were in ruin. She later divulged that during the assault, one of her attackers conveyed their intent to grotesquely damage her reproductive system.

In spite of enduring this nightmarish attack, she defied all odds by later giving birth to two children.

After fighting for survival through extensive surgical procedures, Alison was placed in the intensive care unit. As news of the brutal attack made waves, it came to light that her assailants were already under investigation for rape, out on bail at the time.

Both individuals identified as Satanists and admitted to charges of abduction, sexual assault, and attempted murder. Du Toit confessed to another rape but claimed the compulsion to kill his victim abated post-assault.

In 1995, the pair were handed down life sentences with no chance of parole.

With talks circulating about potential amendments to the law in 2012, Alison voiced her trepidation: "can you imagine if just 100 lifers were reintroduced to society without rehabilitation."

Her relentless advocacy ensured the perpetrators remained incarcerated.

Tragically, on 4 July 2023, Du Toit and Krugeras were paroled after serving just 28 years of their life sentence, a decision made without notifying Alison Botha. Devastated by the news, Alison shared her feelings on Facebook, stating, "The day I hoped and prayed would never come. When I was asked 'How will you feel if they ever get parole?' - my immediate answer was always - 'I'm hoping I'll never find out.'".

Her harrowing experience has been chronicled in her book "I Have Life" and is now reaching broader audiences through the film "Alison" which premiered in August this year. Botha's courage has also led her to speak to hundreds, sharing motivational insights about how attitude, belief, and choice powered her survival.

Alison has been honoured with the prestigious Rotarian Paul Harris Award for 'Courage Beyond the Norm', as well as being named Femina magazine's inaugural 'Woman of Courage' and Port Elizabeth's Citizen of the Year.

Reflecting on the release of the movie, Alison said: "'I have always hoped that by sharing my own journey with others, it would give them hope and courage for their own. To have my story and ultimate triumph shared on screen, would mean that so many more people would see the power of choice that we each have; and might also choose to triumph over life's hardships".

Alison, a devoted single mother to two sons, considers motherhood her most crucial role. In honour of her relentless dedication to assisting others in overcoming hardships and transcending their situations, Nelson Mandela Metropolitan University is delighted to bestow upon Alison Botha the esteemed Council Prestige Award.