A loving, bright, intelligent, feminist young woman: Clémence Beaulieu-Patry’s relatives paid her a moving tribute on Wednesday during the sentencing of murderer Randy Tshilumba. They all sent a strong message for an end to violence against women.
“That our proudly feminist family should experience such a hate crime against women completely upsets us. We must punish and put an end to the trivialization of violence and abuse against women,” Maude Beaulieu-Craig, Clémence Beaulieu-Patry’s cousin, told the court.
The 20-year-old woman was full of dreams. She had her whole life ahead of her. But her dreams were cut short by a man obsessed with her and her friends. Randy Tshilumba, a former classmate she barely knew, did not accept being dumped by Clémence a few days earlier.
Randy Tshilumba planned and premeditated his crime. He first scouted out Clémence’s workplace. Then, on April 10, 2016, he entered the Maxi supermarket on Papineau Street and walked toward Clémence, armed with a long knife. While Clémence was folding clothes, he stabbed her 14 times in less than 20 seconds. He then hid in a restaurant restroom for hours.
At the end of the second trial, Randy Tshilumba was found guilty by a jury of the first-degree murder of Clémence Beaulieu-Patry. A verdict identical to the one rendered in 2017, but which had been overturned by the Court of Appeal. On Wednesday, Judge Alexandre Bien-Aimé sentenced the murderer to life in prison without the possibility of parole for 25 years.
In a packed courtroom at the Montreal courthouse, Clémence Beaulieu-Patry’s relatives took the stand to pay tribute to the young woman who was “taken from them.”
“We would love to hear your voice, see your smile and your dimples. Hold you in our arms. We miss our laughter so much. The house is so empty without you. It’s as if we lack light, air and love. You were bright, loving, laughing, affectionate, intelligent and lively. You knew how to listen, to help. Your empathy and your pacifism touched us so much,” confided Nathalie Beaulieu, Clémence’s mother.
A “soul so pure.” “The sister I never had.” Tributes and anecdotes followed one after the other during the hearing. Tears too. The theme of the scourge of violence against women came up several times in the testimonies.
“Despite this light, she suffered the shadow that constantly threatens the lives of women. How many of our friends, our sisters, our nieces live in fear of going home alone at night, of being followed, harassed, attacked. Why do we have to live in a society where being a woman means being in constant danger?” asked Isabelle Do, a friend of Clémence.
Her cousin Maude Beaulieu-Craig said she hoped that the violent murder of Clémence, “whom she loved like a sister,” would send a message to society about the scourge of “gendered” violence. “Recognize that even in 2024, all women still fear being attacked, raped, abused,” she said in a letter.
“I don’t want to live in a world where innocent people are attacked. A world where women can’t walk without fear of being attacked,” Myriam Ben Said said.
Clémence’s best friends, like Myriam and Chloé, were also in Randy Tshilumba’s sights. According to the killer’s version, the five young women were plotting to kill him. He was obsessed with them. His defense of not criminally responsible due to mental disorder was, however, dismissed by the jury.
Clemence was nicknamed Bibi Loutre by her friends, her mother said. She loved sea otters so much that she had one tattooed on her. After her death, friends and her father received the same tattoo to honor her.
“You were a unifier, proud and courageous,” her mother whispers. “Your life was stolen from you,” she says.