Rel­a­tives and neigh­bours of Siparia grand­moth­er Joann Estick, whose sev­ered head was found in a cool­er at the side of the road on Thurs­day, are strug­gling to come to terms with the hor­rif­ic way she met her death.

Her killing was the fourth grue­some mur­der in Siparia in the last sev­en months. Yes­ter­day, as a flock of cor­beaux cir­cled over Quinam Road, Hunters Search and Res­cue car­ried out aer­i­al and ground search­es, hop­ing to bring clo­sure to Estick’s fam­i­ly by find­ing her body.

Po­lice said around 1.15 pm Thurs­day, Cpl Patrice and PC Cum­mings of the South West­ern Di­vi­sion Task Force were pa­trolling when some­one di­rect­ed them to a green bag in a drain at Sen­non Vil­lage.

Up­on ar­rival, of­fi­cers found a fly-cov­ered bag on a con­crete drain on the road­side. In­side, they dis­cov­ered a small white plas­tic cool­er, par­tial­ly opened, con­tain­ing Estick’s sev­ered head.

Homi­cide Bu­reau in­ves­ti­ga­tors were al­so called in.

Estick, 60, was last seen alive around 12.30 pm on Wednes­day, walk­ing through the area. A can­dle now marks the spot where her sev­ered head was found, as res­i­dents grap­ple with the hor­ror of yet an­oth­er bru­tal killing.

In De­cem­ber, 64-year-old Ram­dath Ma­haraj was found hacked to death in a shack along Quinam Road. His face was smashed, his left arm near­ly sev­ered, and his legs cut off above the knees. In No­vem­ber 2024, a hunter dis­cov­ered the de­cap­i­tat­ed body of Jamie Mo­hammed in a bushy area off Mur­ray Trace, near­ly a month af­ter she van­ished. A skull was found near­by, next to a body clad in a leop­ard-print top and shorts.

And in Oc­to­ber, 38-year-old Car­los “Ve­ju” Ma­habir was hacked to death out­side his Mendez Vil­lage home.

Hunters Search and Res­cue Cap­tain Val­lence Ramb­harat said his team al­so checked an aban­doned lot near the Sev­enth-Day Ad­ven­tist Church, where Estick of­ten spent time.

“So far, we have not ruled out the pos­si­bil­i­ty that some­one walked to dis­pose of the head. We are mon­i­tor­ing the cor­beaux, us­ing drones for aer­i­al sur­veil­lance, and speak­ing to peo­ple in the area,” Ramb­harat said.

A vil­lager told Guardian Me­dia that Estick hus­tled odd jobs in the vil­lage, clean­ing yards and wash­ing cars.

He ad­mit­ted she was a drug user but in­sist­ed she was al­ways clean and well-dressed. He re­vealed that Estick called him 12 times on What­sApp ear­ly Tues­day morn­ing.

“I had missed calls be­tween 2.25 am and 3.05 am, but I was asleep. I called back at 3.53 pm—some­one an­swered, but there was si­lence.”

Al­though po­lice de­scribed Estick as a street dweller, rel­a­tives said she had moved in with a man off Quinam Road in De­cem­ber af­ter leav­ing their fam­i­ly home in Ri­toville.

A rel­a­tive, who wished to re­main anony­mous, said af­ter hear­ing about Estick’s mur­der, they went to the man’s house but found it locked up.

Estick’s on­ly daugh­ter lived in the Unit­ed States but died from COVID-19 a few years ago. Estick had three grand­chil­dren. The fam­i­ly said rel­a­tives abroad of­ten sent her care pack­ages to help her get by.

A niece re­called find­ing out about her mur­der on In­sta­gram.

“My neigh­bour was scrolling and asked if Joanne was miss­ing. I thought she was talk­ing about some­one else. Then I saw the pic­tures of her head on so­cial me­dia—I felt sick. I kept think­ing, ‘Who could do this to Joanne?’”

She ad­mit­ted her aunt used drugs but in­sist­ed the fam­i­ly al­ways tried to help her. Re­cent­ly, she heard some­one had threat­ened Estick’s life.

“On Car­ni­val Tues­day, some boys were in­ter­fer­ing with her. She told my mum that some­one gave them $100 to pass on to her, but they did not. She ar­gued with them and went to the sta­tion.”

An­oth­er rel­a­tive, Joan­na Mejias, was trau­ma­tised by the hor­rif­ic na­ture of the crime.

“When I heard the news, my legs shook, and I felt a pain in my chest. I kept ask­ing—what could she have done to de­serve this? If she did some­thing wrong, they could have beat­en her, cut her hand or foot—but not her neck. They are heart­less,” Mejias said.

She be­lieves crime will nev­er stop in this coun­try, and no one knows who will be next.