Youthful refugees agreed to take part in a Department of Home Affairs imbizo on their stay in South Africa, hoping to improve their lot - only to have the wits frightened out of them when they were taken to Jeppe police station.
Tuesday was the day they were supposed to interact with the department; when they were going to be made to feel that they mattered. It was a day they had been looking forward to since it was announced in the media - that Deputy Minister of Home Affairs, Malusi Gigaba, had organised it specifically to hear about their life in South Africa.
Busloads of refugees left various points around Johannesburg for Pretoria - but unfortunately, four policemen and eight suspected robbers had died in a shootout in Jeppestown a few days previously. Questions had been raised about the nationality of the robbers, apparently leading the driver of the bus from Yeoville to assume that his charges should be taken to the police station.
The refugees were consequently late for Gigaba's imbizo - and when the floor was opened for questions to Gigaba, this was the first complaint he received. And it was not the only one.
Home Affairs has promised that interpreters would be available. But there were no interpreters.
The refugees' complaints ranged from harassment by the police to the inefficiency of Home Affairs offices. The story of Rwandan Claudine Kagorora touched many hearts.
When she was 16 she witnessed her mother being shot during the civil war between the Hutus and Tutsis.
"My father was at work when they came to the house and asked for water. I went to fetch the water, and when I came back they just shot my mother.
"They wanted to kill my brother and me too, but one of them said we were kids and they must leave us alone," said Kagorora.
She said she believed her mother was killed because her father was a musician and had written songs about the Rwandan government.
"I think they were coming for him, and they became angry and just shot my mother because he was not at home," said Kagorora.
The murder of her mother wasn't the only atrocity she witnessed, Kagorora said. She had seen pregnant women have their abdomens cut open and their babies ripped out.
"Sometimes they would just take out a person's eye or cut off an ear," Kagorora said, a tear trailing down her cheek.
Kagorora doesn't want to go back to Rwanda and wishes that her family could be granted permanent residence in this country. But to stay in South Africa, Kagorora and her family have to renew their refugee papers every two years - and revisit their nightmare in Home Affairs interviews.
"I hate doing this because I must relive the experience, and reflect on my mother being shot. and I have nightmares for days afterwards," she said.
"I remember when (the movie) Hotel Rwanda was going to be filmed. We were asked to compose songs but we were not free to write what we wanted to write.
"The organisers wanted us to sing praises about the Rwandese government and we did not want to. They threatened to deport us," she said.
Mishou Mulunga, 28, from the DRC, wants to be recognised as a refugee. She hitchhiked from the DRC to Johannesburg "to live in peace".
"I was forced to leave the DRC because my fiancé was from Rwanda and the war was between the DRC and Rwanda. I didn't want to be killed."
Since arriving in South Africa last year, she hasn't been officially recognised as a refugee, so she lies low in order to avoid arrest - another form of persecution, she believes.
"I can't go anywhere. I am scared that I may be arrested and taken back to the DRC. I don't leave the house."
She has been given a piece of paper by Home Affairs, with a number and a return date of January next year - but it isn't an identity document.