Whispers on the R103 road, South Africa

 Whispers on the R103 road, South Africa.

By T.W. Storom

Based on a true South African legend ghost hitchhiker

The road between Uniondale and Willowmore stretches like a ribbon of secrets, coiling through the Karoo’s dry plains. On most days, it’s quiet. Empty. Forgotten. But ask any old-timer from the area, and they’ll tell you: when the wind howls just right over the R103, it carries more than dust. It carries whispers. And sometimes… footsteps.

Disclaimer:

This story is a work of fiction inspired by real South African folklore. While it draws from the widely known legend of the Uniondale Hitchhiker, many characters, events, and details have been fictionalized for narrative purposes. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or deceased, is purely coincidental. The story is intended to explore what might have happened, not to serve as a factual retelling of historical events.

April 17th, 1976.

Liam van Heerden wasn’t a man who scared easily. Raised in Graaff-Reinet and hardened by military service in Angola, he thought he’d seen all kinds of death. He didn’t believe in ghosts, not until he drove down that cursed stretch of the R103 during Easter week.

He’d left his mother’s farm late—too late—and by 10:47 PM, he was the only car between Uniondale and Willowmore. The moon was hidden behind thick Karoo clouds, and his headlights barely reached beyond the road’s curve.

That’s when he saw her.

A young woman stood by the side of the road. She was barefoot, her white dress glowing faintly in the dark, hair wild around her shoulders like a halo. She didn’t wave. She didn’t even lift her head. But something made Liam pull over.

“You alright, meisie?” he asked, rolling down his window.

She didn’t answer.

He leaned across and pushed open the passenger door. “Need a lift?”

Still silent, she stepped into the car. Her dress brushed against his arm, cold as morning frost. She folded her hands on her lap and looked ahead. Not a word.

They drove in silence. Liam turned down the radio. “I’m headed to Willowmore. Is that alright?”

Nothing.

He glanced sideways. Her face was pale, almost grey. Then she turned her head and looked at him—and Liam felt every hair on his arms rise. Her eyes were empty. Not lifeless. Just… lost.

Before he could speak again, he heard it. A soft knock. Not from the dashboard. Not the engine. No, it came from outside the car. From behind them.

Knock. Knock.

He twisted in his seat. No one.

When he turned back, she was gone.

Not a sound. Not a shift of air. The seat was still indented where she’d sat, but the door was closed. Locked. His hands shook. He pulled over and vomited onto the tar.

Later, in the Willowmore police station, he told his story. The constable, a large man with tired eyes, just nodded.

“Maria Roux,” he said.

“Who?”

“You’re not the first to see her. Doubt you’ll be the last.”

The constable poured Liam a cup of weak coffee, slid it across the chipped wooden desk. His eyes didn’t waver.

“Some say she died quietly in her sleep. Others say her soul never rested. Depends on who you ask,” the man added. “But she’s been riding that stretch of road for years.”

Liam sipped his coffee with trembling hands, the bitter taste grounding him. “You’re saying this… this is normal?”

The constable shrugged. “In Uniondale? As normal as the wind.”

1978 – Hendrik Jacobs, truck driver

It was just past midnight when Hendrik saw her. He’d been driving long-haul from Port Elizabeth, hauling citrus crates bound for Cape Town. Sleep tugged at his eyes like chains, so when he saw the girl in the white dress on the side of the R103, he thought he’d imagined her.

Until she appeared beside him in the passenger seat—without opening the door.

He slammed on the brakes. The crates in the back jolted. The girl didn’t move.

“Jou bliksem!” he’d cursed. “Where the hell did you come from?”

She turned her head. Slowly. Her lips parted like she wanted to speak—but no sound came out. Then she vanished.

But the smell remained.

Lavender and smoke.

1980 – Auntie Saartjie, retired teacher

The old woman was known in Willowmore for her cats, her koeksisters, and her stubborn refusal to leave the house after sundown—ever since her experience.

“I was driving home from Uniondale after visiting my sister,” she told the Dominee. “Saw a girl on the roadside. Thin thing. No shoes. Poor child, I thought.”

The girl raised her thumb. Saartjie, ever the Good Samaritan, stopped.

“She didn’t say a word. Just stared at her feet like she was ashamed.”

But what chilled her was what came next.

As they neared her turnoff, the girl looked up and whispered, “Where’s Michiel?”

Saartjie blinked.

And then the girl was gone.

The car door still closed. No sign she’d ever been there—except for a damp, icy patch on the passenger seat.

 1983 – Peter and Yvette du Preez, newlyweds

The young couple were headed back from their honeymoon in Knysna. They thought the ghost stories were just that—stories. Until they passed through the R103 that autumn evening.

“We were joking about it, actually,” Peter later told a journalist. “I even slowed down when I saw a shape on the roadside. Thought I’d prank Yvette.”

He stopped.

Yvette screamed.

Not because of what they saw—but because of what they heard.

A woman’s laughter, shrill and echoing, filled the car’s cabin. It didn’t come from the radio. It didn’t come from outside.

It came from between them.

Peter turned the car around so fast he nearly hit a dassie. They never spoke of it again.

Back in 1984, after Michiel Pretorius’s death, the reports stopped—almost overnight.

Old-timers in Uniondale say she was finally reunited with him. That her soul, which had wandered lost, had found what it was looking for.

But others aren’t so sure.

1968 – The Origin

Maria (Ria) Roux and her fiancé, Michiel (Giel) Pretorius, had been driving home for Easter weekend to share the good news with parents. They were engaged, young and hopeful, on a road trip to celebrate with her family in Uniondale. They never made it.

Just outside of town, Michiel lost control of the car. The harsh wind blew their Volkswagen Beetle. The vehicle overturned several times. Michiel survived. Maria, who’d been asleep in the back seat flew out the window, never woke up.

Since then the R103 road between Uniondale and Willowmore has never been the same.

1976 – Eight Years Later

The first sightings came from long-haul truckers. Men who’d been driving through the R103 in the dead of night started whispering about a girl in a white dress hitchhiking barefoot. Some said she vanished mid-trip. Others heard eerie laughter in the cab before she disappeared.

One man claimed she opened the passenger door and sat down—only to vanish when he reached the next town.

Another woman swore she saw her face in her rear-view mirror. “Not in the car,” she said, pale with fear. “In the mirror. Smiling. In the back seat. Then gone.”

By 1980, the stories grew. Knocks on windows. Cold air in sealed vehicles. One man claimed his engine died when he refused to stop. Another said she spoke to him. “Where’s Michiel?” she whispered.

The Vanishing

Then in 1984, Michiel Pretorius died in a car crash outside Beaufort West. Locals said he’d been returning from a business trip—alone. His car went off the road in the same way as before.

And just like that, the sightings stopped.

No more knocks. No more laughter. No more Maria.

Some believed she’d finally found him. That her spirit, lost and searching, was now at peace. Others weren’t so sure.

Present Day – 2025

It’s been forty one years since the last confirmed sighting. But stories never die in South Africa. Not on roads like the R103. Ask around in Uniondale, and you’ll hear whispers. The Legend Ghost Hitchhiker still remains in the tongue of many South Africans.

The statue of Maria (Ria) stands as a reminder of the paranormal activities that happened in R103 road. Eight years of sightings that left residents and road users in shock. Some still question reality.

Postscript

“Whispers on the R103” is a fictional account inspired by real events. The legend of the Uniondale Ghost is one of South Africa’s most enduring paranormal stories. Maria Roux, a real young woman, died in a car accident near Uniondale in 1968. Since then, many drivers have reported seeing a barefoot hitchhiker in white, only for her to vanish without a trace.

Though sightings reportedly ceased after 1984, the mystery remains. Was she a ghost? A memory? A restless spirit? Or just a tragic echo trapped in the Karoo wind?

Next time you’re driving the R103, and the wind changes… listen carefully.

You might hear her.

Knock. Knock.

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