On Easter Sunday in 2014, two little girls laughed, sang, and twirled in ballerina dresses—completely unaware that they were spending the last hours of their lives with the man who was supposed to protect them.
Three-year-old Indianna Mihayo and four-year-old Savannah were sisters known for their bright smiles, their love of dress-up, and their innocent belief that adults always had good intentions.
But on April 20, 2014, that belief was shattered in a way too horrific for most people to comprehend.
This is a story of trust betrayed, of a father’s descent into darkness, and of two young lives taken not by accident or impulse, but by a deliberate plan fueled by jealousy, heartbreak, and vengeance.
A story that continues to haunt Australia more than a decade later.
A Family That Began With Hope
Before tragedy became their legacy, the girls’ parents were simply a young couple in love.
Their father, originally from Tanzania, met the woman who would become his wife while living abroad in China. They married, moved to Australia for a better future, and appeared—for a time—to be building a stable life.
But like many relationships built far from home, pressure, cultural differences, and personal struggles tightened around them until something broke.
By 2011, the couple separated.
By 2012, their divorce was finalized.
It was painful, but seemingly not unusual.
They shared two daughters—two little girls who became the only fragile bridge between two adults moving in different directions.
Yet beneath the surface of co-parenting arrangements and polite communication, something toxic had begun to grow.
A Father’s Obsession Turns Dangerous
By early 2014, the girls’ father was struggling.
He felt abandoned.
He felt powerless.
And when he learned that his ex-wife was moving on with her life—possibly with someone new—something inside him darkened.
According to court documents later revealed, he became “highly distressed and emotionally unstable,” unable to accept the idea of his former partner finding happiness without him.
Friends noticed he was no longer himself.
But no one realized just how far his anger would go.
“I Want to See Them One Last Time.”
On April 19, the night before Easter Sunday, he sent a message to his ex-wife—one that would later haunt her for the rest of her life:
“Let me see the girls one last time.”
It was an odd message.
A chilling one, if read in the wrong light.
But parents often say emotionally charged things when they feel left out or insecure.
There was no threat.
No warning.
Nothing that suggested danger.
And so, trying to be cooperative, the girls’ mother allowed the visit.
She had no way of knowing that those seven words were a blueprint for murder.
Easter Sunday: A Perfect Illusion
On the morning of April 20, 2014, the girls’ father purchased new clothes—pretty outfits he said the girls deserved for the holiday. Then he drove to their great-grandmother’s home, where both Indianna and Savannah were staying.
He arrived calm.
Smiling.
Normal.
There was no hint of the plan forming behind his friendly gestures.
The girls ran to him, excited for playtime.
He hugged them with the gentleness of a loving father.
And then he began carefully constructing their final memories.
He asked them to dress in ballerina outfits.
He played music from the movie Frozen—their favorite.
He asked them to sing
“Let It Go” while he filmed.
The video later became evidence.
In it, the girls are giggling, twirling, and singing with unfiltered joy—having no idea their father was documenting their final moments alive.
Witnesses say the recording is almost unbearable to watch.
The Final Game
After filming them, he suggested they play hide-and-seek.
The girls loved the game. They followed him into a bedroom where the door quietly closed behind them.
What happened next was both swift and merciless.
Armed with a pillow, he smothered Savannah first.
Then Indianna.
Prosecutors later said the killings were not spontaneous.
They were deliberate.
Calculated.
Driven by a desire to cause the girls’ mother the deepest pain imaginable.
The father later admitted:
“I wanted her to suffer.”
Both girls died within minutes.
Their last moments were spent confused, terrified, and calling out for the man who was hurting them.
The Ritual After the Murders
What he did after killing them reveals even more chilling intent.
He bathed their bodies,
dressed them in the new clothing he had purchased that morning,
and laid them out carefully, as though preparing them for sleep.
Experts called this behavior ritualistic, almost ceremonial.
A final act of control from a man who believed he had been wronged.
Neighbors reported that the house was unnervingly quiet when police arrived.
There were no signs of struggle.
No chaos.
Just stillness—and two small bodies arranged with disturbing care.
When officers entered the home, the father offered no excuses.
He calmly confessed.
Confession Without Remorse
Investigators recalled that he was eerily composed.
He explained the sequence of events.
He spoke of heartbreak, jealousy, and resentment.
He spoke of his ex-wife’s new relationship as though it were an unforgivable betrayal.
When asked why he murdered his daughters, his answer shocked even experienced homicide detectives:
“To punish her.”
Not because he heard voices.
Not because he lost control.
But because he wanted their mother to feel the pain he believed she had caused him.
It was one of Australia’s most chilling examples of “revenge filicide”—the killing of a child as a means of hurting another adult.
The Courtroom That Could Barely Contain the Grief
When the case reached court months later, details emerged that made the public physically ill.
The judge, seasoned as he was, called the crime:
“Deliberate, merciless, and beyond understanding.”
The father pleaded guilty in September 2014, sparing the surviving family a long trial but offering little comfort.
He was sentenced to life imprisonment with a minimum of 31 years before parole eligibility.
The courtroom was silent.
The girls’ mother wept into her hands.
Members of the public cried openly.
No sentence could ever be enough.
No words could ever make sense of the horror.
A Family Forever Broken
For the girls’ mother, life split into two chapters:
Before April 20
and
After April 20.
Before that day, she had two daughters who loved dressing up, dancing, and singing Disney songs.
After that day, she had silence—and a grief so heavy it shook the entire community.
Friends say she still can’t watch Frozen.
She cannot enter a room with ballerina dresses.
She has never been able to watch the video recorded of their final song.
She lives with the guilt of having allowed the visit.
Even though she had no reason to expect danger—
even though she was trying to co-parent responsibly—
even though the real blame lies solely with the man who planned the crime—
she still carries that guilt like a shadow.
Why This Case Still Haunts Australia
Many homicides are tragic.
Some are shocking.
But few are as haunting as this one.
Why?
Because it dismantles the illusion that parents—with all their flaws—would never harm their own children.
Because it challenges our belief that love protects.
Because it reminds us that danger can hide behind calm voices and gentle smiles.
Because the girls’ final hours were filled with innocence, joy, and trust—while their father’s intentions were already set in stone.
And perhaps the most devastating reason:
Because the crime was preventable…
if only someone had known what he was planning.
But no one did.
No one could.
The Legacy of Indianna and Savannah
Today, more than a decade later, their names continue to surface in conversations about child protection, family violence, and the warning signs society often overlooks.
They are remembered not as victims,
but as two little girls who loved music, dress-up, and the pure joy of childhood.
Their story has been used in training programs for social workers and police.
Their case has been referenced in academic research on revenge-driven violence after separation.
Their mother has quietly urged others to trust their instincts when something feels wrong—even if no one else sees it.
Indianna and Savannah never had the chance to grow up, to dance at school concerts, to fall in love, to graduate, to live.
But their story continues to save lives.
A Question That Still Echoes
At the heart of this tragedy is one haunting question:
How could a father turn his own daughters into instruments of revenge?
There is no satisfying answer.
No explanation that makes the loss easier to bear.
Some say it was jealousy.
Some say it was cultural pressure.
Some say it was mental breakdown.
But the truth is simpler, and darker:
It was a choice.
A choice born from cruelty, selfishness, and an obsession with control.
And because of that choice, two little girls lost everything.
A Story the World Must Not Forget
The murders of Indianna and Savannah were not just another headline.
They were a turning point—a reminder that dangers inside families can be just as lethal as threats from the outside.
Their story is a plea for awareness.
A plea for vigilance.
A plea to take every threat, every unusual message, every instinct seriously.
And above all, their story is a tribute.
A tribute to two little girls who danced, laughed, twirled, and sang “Let It Go” with all the joy in their hearts…
…moments before their lives were stolen by the person who should have loved them most.
Their voices may be silent now—
but their story won’t be.