Raised in fear, imprisoned by fate
Lifelong abuse leads to tragedy
For many women behind bars, their stories reveal a cycle of abuse, silence and neglect that begins in childhood, continues in relationships marked by violence and ultimately erupts into life-changing acts of irreversible harm.
At the Windhoek Female Correctional Facility, two women shared their life stories with Namibian Sun: stories marked not by hardened criminality, but by trauma, survival and the consequences of pain left unaddressed for too long.
Namibian Sun sat down yesterday with Christina Hatzkin (39), who is serving a 22-year sentence for murder.
She has now spent 11 years behind bars. However, her story begins decades earlier, in a childhood she admitted was marked by abandonment and instability.
Born in Keetmanshoop and raised in the small village of Koës, Hatzkin said her biological parents left her behind when she was only four months old. Her great-grandmother – pensioner, caregiver and the only stable figure in her life – raised her with limited resources.
When her grandmother fell ill, she dropped out of school to care for her. Soon after, her life began drifting into a pattern familiar to many vulnerable young women: nights spent in bars, drinking to fit in, using her grandmother’s pension money to keep friendships she feared losing.
Act of pain
At 17, she entered a relationship with Cornelius van der Byl who was nearly twice her age – a relationship she believed was “love”, but which later turned violent, controlling and sexually abusive.
For years, she reportedly stayed out of fear and dependency, describing violence as something she thought “came with being someone’s girlfriend”.
“When I fell pregnant with our first son, things took a turn for the worse. He started cheating on me, physically assaulting me and sometimes even forced himself onto me,” she said from the Windhoek Correctional Facility.
On the night of 19 April 2008, after a drunken confrontation and a desperate attempt to escape further harm, Hatzkin says she stabbed Van der Byl three times in the chest and once in the back during a fight. He later died. He was 30 years old.
“I acted out of fear,” she says quietly. “But that fear does not erase the pain caused – or the fact that my children lost their father and then lost me too.”
Today she speaks openly about accountability, forgiveness and the dangers of alcohol, drugs and silence. She hopes her story will help other young women recognise the early signs of toxic relationships.
She says her sons, now aged 21 and 19, have grown into responsible young men with hopes of successful futures. When asked how they felt about their father’s death, Hatzkin said her eldest son accepted what had happened and asked that they bury the past and focus on rebuilding their lives. “It was hard,” she admitted, “but my sons told me to concentrate on what matters – finishing my sentence and getting life back on track.”
During her time in prison, Hatzkin has taken up gardening and hopes to start a community garden once she has served her time.
'I bottled up so much pain until I broke' – Bianca’s story
Bianca Engelbrecht, 34, has spent 11 years and five months of her 18-year sentence behind bars. Her life echoes Hatzkin’s in haunting ways: childhood violence, emotional abandonment, early motherhood and a string of abusive relationships.
Engelbrecht was raised in Bethanie, where she says she grew up witnessing her stepfather physically abusing her mother, while both adults battled alcohol dependence. She describes her teenage years as lonely and unsupported – made worse by a sexual assault at age 15 that she never disclosed. “I didn’t have anyone to talk to,” she recalls. “Everything I felt, I just carried inside."
By 16, she was pregnant, expelled from home and forced into financial dependency on her boyfriend. The relationship soon turned abusive, and after leaving him, she entered another relationship – one that would ultimately end in tragedy.
According to her account, her second boyfriend, 25-year-old Isak Jossop, was jealous, possessive and violent.
After he repeatedly abused her physically, emotionally and sexually, she tried to leave several times. Each time, he convinced her to return.
In February 2013, a fight erupted at a bar after Engelbrecht saw another woman sitting on his lap. He walked out, and later that night, overwhelmed by anger, trauma and intoxication, she set the house on fire. In her defence, she claimed that she was unaware that he was asleep inside. Jossop died in the blaze.
“That moment changed everything,” she says. “I never meant for anyone to die. But I was broken. I kept all my pain inside until I reached a breaking point.”
Engelbrecht has since completed several rehabilitation programmes, including gender-based violence, faith-based programmes and vocational training. She now hopes to start a small business after release and rebuild a relationship with her daughter, now 17.
Engelbrecht says her daily routine now resembles that of a baker, and once she completes her sentence, she intends to use those skills to start her own business.
- [email protected]
At the Windhoek Female Correctional Facility, two women shared their life stories with Namibian Sun: stories marked not by hardened criminality, but by trauma, survival and the consequences of pain left unaddressed for too long.
Namibian Sun sat down yesterday with Christina Hatzkin (39), who is serving a 22-year sentence for murder.
She has now spent 11 years behind bars. However, her story begins decades earlier, in a childhood she admitted was marked by abandonment and instability.
Born in Keetmanshoop and raised in the small village of Koës, Hatzkin said her biological parents left her behind when she was only four months old. Her great-grandmother – pensioner, caregiver and the only stable figure in her life – raised her with limited resources.
When her grandmother fell ill, she dropped out of school to care for her. Soon after, her life began drifting into a pattern familiar to many vulnerable young women: nights spent in bars, drinking to fit in, using her grandmother’s pension money to keep friendships she feared losing.
Act of pain
At 17, she entered a relationship with Cornelius van der Byl who was nearly twice her age – a relationship she believed was “love”, but which later turned violent, controlling and sexually abusive.
For years, she reportedly stayed out of fear and dependency, describing violence as something she thought “came with being someone’s girlfriend”.
“When I fell pregnant with our first son, things took a turn for the worse. He started cheating on me, physically assaulting me and sometimes even forced himself onto me,” she said from the Windhoek Correctional Facility.
On the night of 19 April 2008, after a drunken confrontation and a desperate attempt to escape further harm, Hatzkin says she stabbed Van der Byl three times in the chest and once in the back during a fight. He later died. He was 30 years old.
“I acted out of fear,” she says quietly. “But that fear does not erase the pain caused – or the fact that my children lost their father and then lost me too.”
Today she speaks openly about accountability, forgiveness and the dangers of alcohol, drugs and silence. She hopes her story will help other young women recognise the early signs of toxic relationships.
She says her sons, now aged 21 and 19, have grown into responsible young men with hopes of successful futures. When asked how they felt about their father’s death, Hatzkin said her eldest son accepted what had happened and asked that they bury the past and focus on rebuilding their lives. “It was hard,” she admitted, “but my sons told me to concentrate on what matters – finishing my sentence and getting life back on track.”
During her time in prison, Hatzkin has taken up gardening and hopes to start a community garden once she has served her time.
'I bottled up so much pain until I broke' – Bianca’s story
Bianca Engelbrecht, 34, has spent 11 years and five months of her 18-year sentence behind bars. Her life echoes Hatzkin’s in haunting ways: childhood violence, emotional abandonment, early motherhood and a string of abusive relationships.
Engelbrecht was raised in Bethanie, where she says she grew up witnessing her stepfather physically abusing her mother, while both adults battled alcohol dependence. She describes her teenage years as lonely and unsupported – made worse by a sexual assault at age 15 that she never disclosed. “I didn’t have anyone to talk to,” she recalls. “Everything I felt, I just carried inside."
By 16, she was pregnant, expelled from home and forced into financial dependency on her boyfriend. The relationship soon turned abusive, and after leaving him, she entered another relationship – one that would ultimately end in tragedy.
According to her account, her second boyfriend, 25-year-old Isak Jossop, was jealous, possessive and violent.
After he repeatedly abused her physically, emotionally and sexually, she tried to leave several times. Each time, he convinced her to return.
In February 2013, a fight erupted at a bar after Engelbrecht saw another woman sitting on his lap. He walked out, and later that night, overwhelmed by anger, trauma and intoxication, she set the house on fire. In her defence, she claimed that she was unaware that he was asleep inside. Jossop died in the blaze.
“That moment changed everything,” she says. “I never meant for anyone to die. But I was broken. I kept all my pain inside until I reached a breaking point.”
Engelbrecht has since completed several rehabilitation programmes, including gender-based violence, faith-based programmes and vocational training. She now hopes to start a small business after release and rebuild a relationship with her daughter, now 17.
Engelbrecht says her daily routine now resembles that of a baker, and once she completes her sentence, she intends to use those skills to start her own business.
- [email protected]
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