Cape Town Moulana gunned down outside mosque as Ramadan begins

1. When the Moon Rose, the Guns Spoke

On the first Ramadan night, 18 February, Mitchell’s Plain smelled of rain-soaked asphalt and the faint rose-water mist that clings to every masjid after late prayer. Salamudien Masjid emptied slowly; worshippers lingered on its candy-stripe carpet, trading promises of how many juz’ they would finish before suhūr while children zig-zagged between bumpers. No one paid attention to the white VW Polo parked at the intersection of Candytuft and Protea - engine running, lights off, windows clouded by the breath of unseen occupants.

At 22:55, Moulana Mustaqeem Wanza stepped through the green gate, a vinyl pouch slung over his shoulder. Inside the pouch lay the palm-sized Qur’an his father once recited every Laylatul-Qadr. With him walked Mujaahid Davids, 27, theology finalist, and Ridwaan Abrahams, 24, the mosque’s under-15 soccer coach. Wanza paused to ruffle a teenager’s spiky hair, reminding him to read the three quls before sleep, then headed for his silver Avanza parked at the curb.

The Polo crept forward. Two rear doors snapped open. Hooded figures raised compact automatics and the night exploded. Four 9 mm rounds punched Wanza centre-mass, folding him in mid-stride. Davids spun into the boundary wall clutching a shattered collarbone; Abrahams dragged himself behind wheelie-bins, a bullet lodged in his thigh. The gunmen advanced, firing downward with clinical rhythm - sternum, diaphragm, lung, liver, spleen, humerus, scapula, and the final shot behind the ear. Brass casings glittered like cheap carnival confetti. The killers vanished toward the R300, tyres squealing only when they hit the highway ramp.

2. The Weapon, The Whispers, The Archive

Inside the prayer hall, the imam was still on the minbar when gunfire cracked through the half-open door. The mezzanine erupted in screams; men rushed the exit, colliding with worshippers still in sajdah. Lights cut out, plunging the mosque into blackness. Nineteen-year-old Yaaseen, the teenage muezzin, dialled 10111 from the sound booth, sobbing the address between breaths. Lentegeur SAPS arrived at 23:04; paramedics declared death at 23:12. Davids and Abrahams survived surgery and remain under police guard.

Ballistics experts recovered eight casings - identical firing-pin marks, same extractor scratches - hinting at a single 9 mm CZ Scorpion Evo 3 emptied on full-auto. The compact sub-gun is a favourite of cash-flush gang financiers and hit teams flown in for “clean” jobs. CCTV from a nearby spaza shows magnetic decals masking the Polo’s plates; the car was later found torched in Browns Farm, chassis stripped, engine drenched in diesel.

Within minutes, social media alighted with theories: drug turf, vape-pen vigilantism, a R120 k debt allegedly owed by Wanza’s younger brother. Police file every rumour under “unsubstantiated,” yet the statistics are stubborn: since 2015 eleven clergy - three imams, two pastors, four traditional healers, two rabbis - have been shot within a 30-km radius of the city bowl. Most murders happen between 21:00 and 23:30; most cases stall at six months. Internal SAPS dossiers labelled “Project Halo” record a 2 % conviction rate, fuelling suspicion that syndicates systematically silence moral voices.

While detectives chase shadows, Wanza’s memory hardens into digital relics. WhatsApp groups loop 99-second clips: Surah An-Najm, ayah 43, “He it is who makes to laugh and makes to weep.” Another video, filmed during load-shedding, shows him teaching boys to trill ḍād - “your tongue, a damp leaf trembling in wind” - ending on a collective amīn so resonant the candle flames bend.

3. From Surrey Estate to the World: The Making of a Voice

Wanza’s story follows the classic Cape Flats arc but at double speed. Born in 1992 to a Surrey Estate cashier and a garment-factory machinist, he finished hifz at sixteen under Moulana Ihsaan Hendricks at Darul Arqam. Scholarships shuttled him from Cairo - where he studied qirāʿat Warsh beneath Sheikh Abu Bakr al-Shaatibi - to Madinah’s Institute of Qur’anic Sciences. He placed third in Dubai’s 2015 African qualifiers, turned down lucrative Gulf contracts and came home, rotating among forgotten townships where taraweeh crowds barely top 200 but every child knows the hafiz who once led them.

Friends paint an almost monastic portrait: awake at 03:30 to recite one juz’ before tahajjud, dawn madrassah classes, weekdays behind a Rylands hardware-store till, evenings revising that night’s taraweeh portion while perched on a five-litre paint tin, sipping black coffee from a chipped mug. Unmarried, he lived above the shop, donated every Ramadan honorarium - about R18 000 - to Darul Ulama orphan scholarships and could complete a full khatm in nine hours without repetition, an annual 27th-night marathon he called “khatm-for-the-dead.”

Now the voice belongs to the archive, but the earth still needs scrubbing. At 03:40 the morning after the murder, 62-year-old caretaker Galiem Abrahams arrived with bleach and a hard broom. He washed blood into the storm-drain, laid butcher’s paper over the stains so fajr worshippers would not step on them. By 05:00, 140 people stood on damp carpet, toddlers pointing at rust-coloured blotches seeping through white sheets. That night, 19-year-old Yaaseen - who had dialled emergency services - led taraweeh. When he reached Al-Baqarah 154 - “Do not call those slain in Allah’s path ‘dead’; they are alive, though you perceive not” - his voice cracked for the first time in five years. The dome rained with collective tears.

4. A Province Mourns, Ramadan Marches On

Across the Cape Flats, masaajid inserted a new dua: “O Turner of hearts, steady the hearts of our ulema; O Guardian of souls, return our living and our dead in safety.” Gatesville collected R47 000 for Wanza’s widowed mother in twenty minutes; Stellenbosch Jewish students recited psalms for “the teacher of Qur’an who sang Your words.” Even alleged gang leaders sent messengers to the family home offering to bankroll the janāzah in exchange for “keeping the peace” during the funeral.

Police ministers promise visible patrols; imams request escorts to and from night prayer. Yet the logistical machinery of Ramadan cannot pause. The first taraweeh after the murder ended with Surah An-Nasr, its closing line - “Seek forgiveness, for He is Ever-Relenting” - now reinterpreted as a city-wide plea. Children still chase each other across warm tar, women still trade juz’ tallies, but every cracked voice from the minbar reminds the congregation that martyrdom is not an ancient metaphor; it is a palm-sized Qur’an dropped on a Candytuft sidewalk, pages fluttering in the pre-dawn wind.

The Darul Ulama Association’s statement rings truer each night: “His voice resounded in masaajid throughout the Western Cape and beyond; an inspiration for our youth to walk the Qur’anic path.” Meanwhile, investigators sift through torched chassis and magnetic number plates, and WhatsApp blue-ticks keep the martyred qariʾ alive one audio clip at a time. In Mitchell’s Plain, the Ramadan moon keeps climbing, and the people keep coming - because the prayer must finish, and the page must turn, and the echo of recitation, like blood in the storm-drain, cannot simply be scrubbed away.

1. Who was Hafiz Wanza?

Hafiz Moulana Mustaqeem Wanza was a beloved and highly respected religious leader in Mitchell's Plain, Cape Town. He was known for his exceptional Quranic recitation skills, having studied in Cairo and Madinah, and for his kind heart and dedication to his community. He regularly led prayers, taught children, and donated his earnings to orphan scholarships.

2. What happened to Hafiz Wanza on the first night of Ramadan?

On February 18, 2024, the first night of Ramadan, Hafiz Wanza was tragically assassinated outside Salamudien Masjid in Mitchell's Plain. He was ambushed by gunmen in a white VW Polo who opened fire, killing him and injuring two companions, Mujaahid Davids and Ridwaan Abrahams. The attack occurred shortly after 10:55 PM as he was leaving the mosque.

3. What kind of weapon was used in the assassination?

The assassination was carried out using a 9mm CZ Scorpion Evo 3, a compact sub-machine gun often favored by organized crime syndicates and professional hit teams due to its efficiency and discreet nature. Ballistics experts recovered eight casings from the scene, all matching this specific weapon.

4. What are the broader implications of Wanza's murder?

Wanza's murder has fueled fears that organized crime groups are systematically targeting and silencing moral and religious leaders. This act is part of a disturbing pattern of unsolved clergy killings in the region, with a low conviction rate, suggesting a calculated effort to suppress voices that might speak out against criminal activities or offer guidance to communities.

5. How has the community reacted to Hafiz Wanza's death?

The community has been deeply saddened and affected by Wanza's death. Despite the tragedy, they continue to pray and remember his powerful voice and contributions. There has been an outpouring of support, with donations for his family and interfaith prayers. However, there is also a palpable sense of fear and a demand for increased protection for religious leaders during night prayers.

6. What is the status of the investigation into Wanza's assassination?

Police are investigating the assassination, but details are scarce. The getaway vehicle, a white VW Polo with magnetic decals masking its plates, was later found torched in Browns Farm, stripped of its chassis and engine. While police are sifting through rumors and evidence, the case adds to a growing list of unsolved clergy murders in the region, raising concerns about the effectiveness of law enforcement in these cases.