On September 12, 2025, nearly half a century after the tragic death of Steve Biko shook South Africa and the world, a South African court officially reopened the inquest into the anti-apartheid leader’s demise. The move, coming exactly 48 years after Biko died of brain injuries sustained in police custody, has reignited painful memories, fierce debates, and fresh hopes for justice in a nation still wrestling with the ghosts of its apartheid past.
According to TimesLIVE, the Gqeberha high court heard from the prosecution that two persons of interest in the case are still alive, a detail that immediately raised the stakes of the proceedings. The inquest, however, was quickly adjourned to November 12, 2025, for case management, leaving many South Africans on tenterhooks, wondering what revelations might finally come to light.
Steve Biko, founder of the Black Consciousness Movement and a towering figure in the struggle against racial segregation, died on September 12, 1977, at just 30 years old. As reported by eNCA and The Africa Report, Biko was arrested at a roadblock in the Eastern Cape for violating banning orders that restricted his movements. He was then held in police custody in Port Elizabeth (now Gqeberha), where he was kept naked, shackled in leg irons, and subjected to brutal treatment for 24 days.
Medical assistance was finally sought only after police noticed foam around his mouth, but by then it was far too late. Biko was loaded unconscious—still naked and shackled—into the back of a police Land Rover and transported 1,200 kilometers to a prison hospital in Pretoria. He died shortly after arrival, with the official cause of death recorded as extensive brain injury and acute kidney failure.
The apartheid regime’s Special Branch police claimed Biko had injured himself by banging his head against a cell wall during a scuffle, a version accepted by the initial inquest held under apartheid. But as BBC and Associated Press coverage from the era noted, this explanation was met with disbelief and outrage, especially among black South Africans who had long suffered under the regime’s brutality. The 1997 Truth and Reconciliation Commission (TRC), established by President Nelson Mandela and led by Archbishop Desmond Tutu, later found that five former Special Branch members gave contradictory evidence and failed to disclose any political motive for Biko’s death. Their applications for amnesty were denied.
Despite the TRC’s efforts, many families—including Biko’s—were left with more questions than answers. The perpetrators were never prosecuted, their actions effectively shielded by what National Prosecuting Authority (NPA) spokesperson Luxolo Tyali called a “whitewash inquest” by the apartheid government. In a statement this week, Tyali explained that the reopening of the inquest is intended "to address the atrocities of the past and assist in providing closure to the Biko family and society at large." The main goal, he said, is to lay before the court evidence that will enable a finding as to whether Biko’s death "was brought about by any act, or omission, which prima facie involves or amounts to an offence on the part of any person."
For Biko’s family, the renewed attention is both welcome and fraught. His youngest son, Hlumelo Biko—who was born four months after his father’s death—expressed deep skepticism about the process. "I’m actually perplexed by it all," Hlumelo told The Africa Report. "I’m not sure what is the objective." He acknowledged that the basic facts of his father’s death are well-known: "People know the apartheid police were brutal in their interrogation. They used any and every tool they had to try and extract information. And it’s possible that in this case that there was barely an interrogation, but an attempt to harm and kill him, which is what they achieved. So that much is not a mystery."
Yet the younger Biko wonders why the police tried so hard to portray his father’s death as an accident, and whether this was done on higher instruction. He suspects the timing of the inquest—just ahead of local government elections scheduled for late 2026—may have political motives. "If this is part of a political stunt to make it seem like the current government is doing something about the killings, it will add insult to injury," he said. "You’re going to stir up the emotions of the bereaved. You’re going to create a national dialogue about the set of facts, knowing that you’re not really going to achieve any justice out of the process, and that’s really tragic and deceitful."
His older brother, Nkosinathi Biko, echoed these concerns in an interview with the BBC, lamenting the lack of accountability for apartheid-era crimes. "You cannot have the trauma that we had, the flow of blood in the streets orchestrated by a state against a people, and then you emerge with less than a handful of prosecutions ever successfully made," he said. He stressed that confronting these issues is essential for sustaining South Africa’s democracy.
The reopening of Biko’s inquest forms part of a broader movement in South Africa to revisit unresolved atrocities from the apartheid era. In April 2025, President Cyril Ramaphosa authorized an inquiry into whether previous leaders of the African National Congress (ANC) had blocked prosecutions of such crimes. Another high-profile case under review is that of the "Cradock Four," anti-apartheid activists abducted and murdered in 1989, for whom justice has also been elusive.
Legal experts and activists see the Biko inquest as a test of South Africa’s willingness to reckon with its history—warts and all. Tembeka Ngcukaitobi SC, representing the Biko family, told the court that reopening the inquest on the anniversary of Biko’s death was significant, and that the process must be thorough and transparent.
Meanwhile, the country remains divided over how best to achieve justice. Some, like Hlumelo Biko, argue that real justice goes beyond courtrooms and should include acknowledging the social harms wrought by apartheid, such as broken families and enduring economic inequalities. He believes that "true justice would also be in recognizing the social problems that resulted from apartheid, such as the absent fathers who were part of the migrant labour system and the anti-apartheid activists who were killed or went into exile." Others see the reopening of inquests as a necessary step in restoring faith in the rule of law and in the nation’s commitment to never repeat such horrors.
As the inquest stands adjourned and the country waits for November, the words of Steve Biko himself still resonate: "The most potent weapon in the hands of the oppressor is the mind of the oppressed." Whether this new chapter in the search for truth will bring long-awaited closure—or simply reopen old wounds—remains to be seen. But for many, the pursuit of justice for Steve Biko is a measure of South Africa’s progress, and a reminder that history’s darkest chapters must never be forgotten.
