“A real friend is one who walks in when the rest of the world walks out.”– Walter Winchell
Thank you for joining me on our journey again this year!Many of you may have followed along last year and learned about why Kurt and I travel to South Africa (annually since 2014).However, some of you may be reading this blog for the first time.So let me start by reposting our story of how we got here from the blog The Journey Begins…
Baby Isiphili
“Why are you in South Africa?”, you may ask. Well it is a story only God could write…
For many years, I would always joke with people saying that when Kurt retires, he will probably “drag” me to some 3rd World country to be in ministry. Fast forward, here we are in Knysna, South Africa. It isn’t 3rd World, but it is definitely 2nd World.
So how did we get here? After Kurt retired in January 2014, he began to meet with the University of Virginia to learn about their water purification “system” (local potters make porous pots lined with silver), in Limpopo, South Africa. After meeting with those involved with this project a couple of times, they recommended he go visit the site in order to understand the site work that needed to be designed. Since he and I decided I would go with him, we thought we would make a vacation out of the trip down (as it would probably be the ONLY time we would ever come to Africa).
One problem, we knew nothing about Africa. I certainly did not realize how big the continent is compared to North America. Africa is bigger than China, India, the contiguous U.S. and most of Europe—combined! So, how do I begin to plan a trip? I would tap into my resources or as many would call, FRIENDS.
I happened to know only one couple that had ever been to Africa and their trip was to Kenya, not South Africa. But as God would have it, this couple had just recently met a man who was born and raised in South Africa, but now lives in Augusta, Georgia. My friend recommended I email his friend to see if he could help me plan an itinerary. After several emails back and forth with this man I had never met, Kurt decided that this project with UVA was not a good fit. Wow, disappointment. This man in Georgia has spent so much of his time helping me plan a vacation and now I needed to tell him we were not going to go. I felt bad to have wasted his time.
God had other plans! It was now August or so and instead of my new email friend saying oh well, so sorry for you; he said that he was taking a mission team to Knysna, South Africa at the beginning of November and invited us to come with him. I promptly said “Thank you” but “No Thank You”, we have already allocated that money to be used for something else… that may or may not have been completely true.
My new friend did not take “no” for an answer. Instead he told me to talk to Kurt and pray about it. Ugh, why did he have to bring God into this? I know that if I pray about it, I may have to say “yes”. Dilemma, do I tell Kurt we’ve been invited?
Yes, I did. And after much prayer, we decided to join the team.
Now, it is January 2019 and we have returned to Knysna 6 times over the past 5 years. We love the people here and have made forever friends.
Last year, we were able to transition the program I launched in 2016 called Girls Talk into the ministry of the local Youth for Christ.This was a dream come true.I knew from the start that the program would not be sustainable unless a local organization could oversee it and provide the necessary resources. At the same time, this provided a full-time professional job for my friend Thokozile, God-size Dreams.
Kurt spent his time teaching basic carpentry skills to young men who did not complete the 9th grade.To learn about their final project, please read Opening Their Hearts and Home ).He will do this again this year with a new group of guys.
So, with all of that said, and just arriving back here 2 days ago, I am not sure what this trip will bring. Kurt and I made a trip up to the township this morning to meet with some friends. We both left a little discouraged to see the circumstances of some of their households.
Makazi (Aunt) Babalwa
I hope to spend time getting to know the stories of more people here again.I plan to share them with you and give you updates on those you met last year.
As you have seen in the past, however sad or tragic these stories can be, many are so inspirational. Through it all, our God remains faithful.~Tracy Cooper
“It’s not the size of your house that makes a home… It’s the size of your heart.” ~Jane Lee Logan
In June 2017, Maria and her husband Freddy opened their hearts and home, doubling the size of their family overnight.They have six children of their own. Yet in June, they agreed to take in six of Maria’s cousin’s children who became orphaned.
The orphaned siblings with Maria and Ella. Frederick, the oldest did not move to Knysna.
Maria grew up in the Eastern Cape of South Africa.At the age of 20 years old, she had her first daughter with a man to whom she was not married.Then 3 years later, she had her second daughter.Maria is a strong woman and began raising these girls on her own.
At the age of 26, she met Freddy, the man of her dreams.They fell in love and were married.They just celebrated their 26th wedding anniversary! Freddy is a good man.He has always worked hard to take care of Maria and their children. For years, the only work he could find was in Knysna, two hours away from his family.He moved there to work and traveled home when he could to see his family. This is so typical of families. If the father is still involved with the family, he may have to live in another town to work, only seeing his family on occasion.
While he worked in Knysna, Freddy stayed with Maria’s sister.She lived in an area of the township that was very underdeveloped at the time.No roads.No concrete block homes.No water.No electricity.This was now Freddy’s home away from home.He would work all day long and often help neighbors at night and on the weekends.He is a handy man.Someone who can fix almost anything.And he is always willing to help.One neighbor took notice of his kindness to the community.She starting talking with him about his work, his family and his plans.She wanted to know if he planned to move his family to Knysna.
Of course Freddy would love to do that, but where would they live?He and his wife had six children!The woman was full of compassion.She told Freddy that she wanted to give her land to him so that he could move his family to Knysna. A piece of land full of brush and vegetation. No buildings. So much potential. Wow.
Freddy couldn’t wait to tell Maria. But she held back her excitement. She had concerns. She didn’t know this woman. What if they accepted the offer, built a home on the property, and then the woman turned around and took the land back. Valid concern.
Freddy returned to Knysna a few days later and addressed Maria’s concern with the woman.She so wanted to give them this gift.She insisted Freddy go with her to the magistrate where she signed the land over to him.It was now legal.No strings attached.A priceless gift. Maria and I both agree… a true blessing from God.
Freddy got to work building his family a wooden house. Actually one that feels large inside because he designed it with high ceilings. When it was finished, the 8 of them moved in. The home had a kitchen and two bedrooms.No bathroom.
Maria standing in front of the Wooden home Freddy built 13 years ago. The blue RDP house is in the back.
Life was good.Not easy.But good.They were surrounded by bush. No roads.No running water.No electricity. No sanitation. But they were all together again!Within a couple of years, that part of the township (Dam Se Bos) began to develop. The government brought roads, water lines, sanitation and electricity to that area. RDP homes (Reconstruction and Development Programme) were being built. A few years ago, Maria and Freddy qualified for their small government home (2 bedrooms / 1 bathroom). This now stands directly behind the wooden house.
Side note: The RDP program was initiated by the ANC Party under the leadership of Nelson Mandela. Poverty is the single greatest burden of South Africa’s people, and is the direct result of the apartheid. As part of this program, people in poverty have the opportunity to receive a free home. Those eligible must meet these qualifications: Must be a South African citizen; over the age of 21; married or living with a partner OR single with dependants; earn less than R3,500 ($295 U.S.) per household per month. The problem is that it can take years before your home is built. I know some people that have been waiting 15-20 years.
This brings us to June 2017.Maria got a call from family members telling her that her cousin had been murdered. She was stabbed in front of her home, in front of her children.She was an alcoholic and apparently got into an altercation with another woman, leading to her death. Six children were now orphaned. Their mother was dead and their alcoholic father had been murdered (stabbed) a year earlier. It is so hard to imagine what these children went through in that household.
Maria, who didn’t really even know the children, was begged by relatives to take them in. If Maria did not take them, they would be separated and put into foster care. She did what came naturally. She prayed.
Maria felt God tugging on her heart.She must give these orphans a chance.So off she and Freddy went to pick up 6 more children to join their family.
The youngest sisters recently orphaned.
Maria’s two oldest daughters had already moved away.One lives in Capetown and one lives in Johannesburg.However, they each have one child a 4-year old girl and a 2-year old boy that live with Maria and Freddy.
If you are trying to keep a head count, here it is… In the household resides: Freddy, Maria, 4 of their children (3 in high school and a 25-year old who just had a baby), 3 grandchildren and 6 of her cousin’s children.A total of 15 people.4 bedrooms.1 bathroom. Yes, 1 bathroom. Things are a little crowded, to say the least.
Maria and her newest grandson, Favian.
Maria’s grandson, Davian.
Not only that, the financial struggle is very real.Freddy has a maintenance job (actually in the neighborhood where we rent a house).He works hard all week long and then pastors a church in his community on Sundays.I don’t know Freddy’s salary, but it would be typical for him to make around $17 U.S. per day.He is the only bread-winner in the home.
Praise God my friends Penny and Ella (Emzini Tours), who I mentioned in the blog posts “Unprotected-Part 1” and “Unprotected – Part 2”, have partnered with Freddy and Maria to help provide for the orphans.They pay for school uniforms, transport to school, school fees and some food expenses.It is a necessary blessing for the family.
To help Maria and Freddy with space, Kurt and our friend Don have been teaching a group of 8 guys basic carpentry skills.These boys did not complete high school, some cannot read.This was an opportunity to teach them some basic skills to hopefully make them a little bit more employable.Their final project was to build a 12 X 12 sleeping room onto Freddy and Maria’s home.This gives the family space to move 4 -6 of the children into a room of bunk beds.
The finished sleeping room.
The project was amazing.Not only did it give Maria’s family more sleeping space, it was such an exciting accomplishment for the young boys in the class.
New sleeping room.
Freddy and Maria are Christians.Maria praises our Savior all day long.It gives me such joy to visit and see her love for our Lord.Together this couple teaches their children kindness, compassion, love, grace and mercy.They instill in them the importance of an education. Maria told me that in her house, nobody is allowed to drop out of school. They are raising these children to be good productive members of society.
Because Freddy and Maria opened their hearts and their home, six children have a new lease on life.I am thankful that they obeyed God’s call on their lives. Well done good and faithful servants! ~Tracy Cooper
“Justice delayed, is justice denied.” ~ William E. Gladstone
If I had to write the mantra of a vigilante, I believe it would be, “Justice delayed, is justice denied.”
Vigilante: A member of a self-appointed group of citizens who undertake law enforcement in their community without legal authority, typically because the legal agencies are thought to be inadequate.
** Just a warning… the photos at the very end of the article may be disturbing.
This begs the question, “When is Vigilante Justice acceptable?”Ever? Should community citizens take justice into their own hands if they feel overlooked by the local police department?
If I didn’t know the boys involved in Monday’s incident, I may have said, “Well they shouldn’t have put themselves in that situation. ” Or maybe, “They got what they deserved. If they weren’t guilty this time, they probably did plenty of things in the past that have gone unpunished.” But I know these boys. And yes, they have a list of unpunished crimes. Probably a long list. But does that justify what occurred on Monday night?
A “Community Group” (vigilante group) in the township took matters into their own hands Monday night when they hunted down and severely beat four boys (Angel, Gerald, Danville and Danville’s uncle).Two of the boys I know.They are boys I have come to love.Boys that have a past, but are making strides to change their lives for the better.I told Gerald’s story in the blog post “Gang to Grace” and I hope to tell Angel’s story soon.Danville I don’t know as well.Kurt knows him better.He too comes from a troubled background that we will never fully understand. And Danville’s uncle I have never met.
The story I know that led to Monday night’s horrific incident is this… Danville stole a phone at knife-point from a girl in the township earlier in the day. Angel and another boy were said to have been with him. It is unclear truly when it happened. Angel swears he was not there. And if the theft did happen earlier on Monday (and not over the weekend), I know for a fact Angel was at work. None-the-less, at some point a phone was stolen and the community was ready to take action.
Stealing phones is commonplace.Stealing at knife-point is too.This is a poverty-stricken, knife-ridden community.Stealing is a mode of survival for many.People steal to feed themselves food.Others steal to feed themselves drugs and alcohol.In Danville’s case, it is both.But over the last year, he has become so addicted to ‘Tik’ (crystal meth) that the only way to feed his addiction is to steal.
So in a community where theft is commonplace and the police are scarce, what do you do? In the township, they form vigilante groups or as they call them “Community Groups”.These groups have risen up across the townships in South Africa to fill the gap for needed justice. Each area creates their own group which consist of businessmen to taxi drivers. They take care of the things that the under-resourced police department cannot.They often are the first responders to take action.They recover and return stolen items that would otherwise sit in a police station for months until trial. Some believe they are the heroes of the community.The ones who serve the well-deserved justice. Others fear them. Community Groups use anything from humiliation to extreme violence. Sometimes even murder.
OK… I admit I may have read an article or two in the past where a vigilante took down the “bad guy” and I thought “Way to go.Justice is served!”I didn’t need to know anything about the people involved.Just that the “bad guy” received due justice.
On Monday night however, my friends were at the receiving end of Vigilante Justice.And it is quite frightening.
The victim got word to the “Community Group” that she was robbed of her phone. She identified our friend Angel, an 18-year old boy living on his own, as the thief.A case of mistaken identity? I think so. But because of Angel’s past, the group had no problem believing her.With that, the group headed out to find him.They showed up at his house and dragged him out to the street.They threatened to take him to a metal shipping container in the bush and ‘beat every piece of skin off of him’.I say threatened because Angel was in and out of conscientiousness during the beating.He has no idea where the beating took place.As he was struck with metal pipes and sticks, he remembers opening his eyes and seeing so many people surrounding him.He thought the whole township was watching.Lastly they burned his clothes and piled tires around his house.They told him if he did not get the phone back, they would burn him in his house. Angel was terrified.
He had a good idea who had the phone.Danville had been traveling down this criminal path for over a year now.He is so addicted to “Tik” that he needs money to feed his habit.And with no job and no income comes no conscious.He steals.And he steals often.So to save his own life, Angel told them about Danville.
Danville was next.The mob headed to Danville’s house and dragged him into the street.They beat him and broke his arm.They threatened to cut off his hands, but before they could, his uncle intervened (so I was told).Danville’s uncle was just released from prison last week.This gave the group reason to turn and beat him next.Danville’s uncle was so severely beaten that he is still in ICU in the hospital.
Finally, there was someone in the “Community Group” that had a debt to settle with our friend Gerald.This had nothing to do with the stolen phone. It is actually an old financial debt that Gerald owes to a drug dealer. The group made Danville lead them to Gerald’s shack.Unsuspecting, Gerald was dragged out of the shack and beaten with the same metal pipes and sticks used on the other boys.His swollen face was split open under his eye.Gerald only remembers scanning the group once while he was being beaten.That is when he recognized one face in the crowd.The drug dealer. How it becomes justice to beat a man that owes money to a drug dealer is beyond me!
All of the victims ended up in the hospital.Bruised and bloody.Frightened and fragile.Angel, the youngest of them all, checked himself out before the doctors returned. He was in such fear of his life.He went straight to YFC (Youth for Christ) to look for protection.He was exhausted.He was afraid.He was crying.He cannot go back in the township right now.He cannot get on a taxi (the drivers make up the vigilante group).Kurt drove him out of town to a family member this morning.There he will recuperate.
Gerald needed stitches in his face.He was split open on his cheekbone just under his eye. He is furious. He wants to bring charges against this “Community Group”. Just three weeks ago they killed someone during a beating and nothing has been done about it. The sad thing is, that was not the group’s only murder. I don’t know whether or not Gerald will file charges. It may be too dangerous to do so.
So what do you think? In a community so frustrated with the lack of police presence, is there room for Vigilante Justice?
Do the boys stop stealing for fear of being beat? No. They are hungry and they are addicted. Stealing is the only way to feed themselves.
And in Gerald’s case, what justice is being served if the group helps a known drug dealer get revenge?
I wonder. What purpose do these groups really serve? ~Tracy Cooper
Gerald Immediately after the beating.
Gerald with a swollen face and lips. Stitches on his cheekbone.
“Therefore if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creature; the old things passed away; behold, new things have come.” ~ 2 Corinithians 5:17
Gerald Johnson was born in the Joodsekamp area of the Knysna township in October of 1990.This was just a couple of months before our second son was born.Had we been living in the same part of the world at the time, Gerald could have grown up with my boys.I imagine they could have thrown the baseball around or played video games together.
Instead, my boys grew up with a very different childhood than Gerald.Upper middle class.Taking so many things for granted… a home, food, transportation, education, family, sports, and endless opportunities.
For Gerald, life was much different.He was the son of a Xhosa father and a coloured mother in a poverty stricken township.The child of a marriage not accepted by his Xhosa grandparents.To make matters worse, when Gerald was only 2-years old, his father died in a work accident (he worked with a tree feller).
Gerald and Kurt
This set Gerald’s life trajectory in motion.His dad’s parents decided to start selling off everything Gerald’s father owned… including his home.They said his mother had no claim to any of it, as she was “just” a coloured woman.A nothing.And within the next couple of years they even managed to take her children from her (Gerald and his half-sister), pushing her out of their lives.
This was hard for Gerald.He loved his mom.He needed his mom.But he had no choice in the matter.He was just a small boy.
Gerald doesn’t complain about the years with his grandparents.They kept food in his stomach and a roof over his head.And although his grandfather was strict, he cared for him well.It wasn’t enough for Gerald.This young boy missed his mom terribly.So at the age of 9, he ran away to find her.
From that time on, Gerald found himself in and out of the foster care system.Sometimes he was placed with families, other times in the government orphanage.He even had a short stay with his mom.But she is an alcoholic and could not care for him.He always landed right back in foster care.
Dorothy Broster Orphanage where Gerald lived at one time.
By the age of 13, Gerald took off running.Running from the system.Running from the pain.Running from Knysna.He ended up in a town called Sedgefield about a 30 minute drive from Knysna.There he came across some boys he knew from the orphanage and joined them sleeping on the streets.Their only means of survival was to steal.Mostly food.They just needed to eat.It was a horrible life.But it was his life now.Then Gerald made the mistake of robbing the wrong man one day.A man who was known for beating kids to death if they stole from him.When Gerald realized this, he ran.He ran all the way back to Knysna in fear of his life.
Some of his story gets a little foggy.I say this because Gerald’s coping mechanism was to escape his life by smoking marijuana and mandrax.He does know that in 2004 he somehow ended up in a school for wayward boys.And sometime in 2005 he was back living on the streets in Knysna.A 15-year old boy, sleeping in a cardboard box in the taxi rank in town.It breaks my heart when I stop here and remember what my boys were doing at 15… attending a good high school, playing on sports teams, working a part-time job, learning to drive, and much more.Certainly not sleeping in a cardboard box and wondering whether or not they will have food to eat.
One day while hanging out in the taxi rank, a coloured woman (Blanche) recognized him from when he lived in the orphanage.She was a Christian woman and used to lead Bible Studies there.She opened up her home to Gerald and he lived with her family for about 1-1/2 years.He was back in school, had a roof over his head and food in his stomach.Yet, because he couldn’t understand the love this family was offering to him, he ran.
He traveled all the way to Capetown this time (a 5-hour drive away).There he slept on the streets.He was a beggar and a thief.He started to learn about prison number gangs, the 26s, 27s and 28s.He soon aspired to be part of one.
Meanwhile, back home in Knysna, Blanche had different plans for Gerald’s life.She tracked him down in Capetown and brought him back to live with her family in Knysna again.It didn’t last.Gerald soon ran back to the streets.
Gerald working with Kurt at YFC.
“Why?” I asked Gerald.“Why would you throw such a great opportunity away?A bed, food, education, a family?”He tried to explain it to me.What he came up with is that he didn’t understand nor could he accept their love.He wasn’t worthy of it.And he feared disappointing them.
If it was possible, this time on the streets was rougher.Gerald met people that had been in the Numbers Gangs in prison and he so wanted to belong to the group with them.This required certain things.One of which was to steal for them.Well, that was no big deal.He has stolen many times before.But this time was different.It wasn’t for food.It wasn’t for survival.It was for acceptance.Acceptance into a gang.And there just seemed to be a danger about it this time that he couldn’t shake.He did it anyway.And he was right.The police showed up and he and his cousin/brother ran.Both went different directions.Gerald picked the wrong way.He was caught and put into the police car.As the police drove him around to the other side of the house, Gerald was horrified.There he saw his cousin/brother.Hanging on the spiked fence.Dead.It appeared that he slipped when climbing the fence and was pierced in through his rib cage and out through his neck.A tragic, horrific site Gerald will never forget.
And so it began.At age 16, Gerald was sentenced to 5 years at a juvenile detention center.Not a place of rehabilitation.Not even close.This was the place he learned more about gangs.More about crime.More about drugs.When he was released, he continued on a path of crime.
Gerald didn’t share all of his criminal activity with me, but I know he landed himself right back in prison for robbery.Prison this time.Not juvenile detention.Prison, home of the Numbers Gangs!
In South Africa, numbers gangs control the prison populations.Once prisoners are sentenced by the South African Department of Corrections (DOC), they are classified into 3 different categories. These categories are either economic offense, sexual offence or a crime of violence. This determines what gang they will join upon arrival. The 26s are thieves, responsible for gambling, smuggling and accruing wealth in general. The 27s are the guardians of gang law, murderers.And the 28s are the most senior gang, the warriors.They accrue wifies within the prison population by raping new prisoners.They are also in charge of the flow of food supply.There isn’t a prison in South Africa without numbers gangs.It is a nationwide brotherhood.New prisoners are recruited upon entrance.
Gerald worked his way up the ranks of the 26s, eventually becoming a Judge.This is a high ranking officer who decides the fate of those that break the rules. Consequences can range from beatings, to rape, to death.Even though Gerald was willing to tell me his rank in the 26s, he would not disclose what it took to move up in rank.Nor would he share the many secrets held by each gang.Members that betray the gang and share the secrets are not safe in any South African prison (or outside). The secretive nature of the gang makes their system of communicating to other prisons unknown. This is what makes them the most dangerous prison gang in the world.
The stars on Gerald’s shoulders show that he is a Judge in the 26s.
A thug.A gangster.Gerald was released from prison in April of 2017 (now 27-years old).People in the township knew who he was and “feared” him.He was a high ranking officer in the 26s.Non-ranking members of the 28s in the township feared he would steal their recruits because of his rank.This led to an attempt on Gerald’s life.In November 2017, a “soldier” of the 28s stabbed Gerald with a knife.Left him to die.And he should have.It was plunged 2 inches deep into his heart.
God had other plans for our friend.Gerald spent weeks in the hospital trying to survive and then recuperate.Doctors convened trying to decide if his body could handle heart surgery.They decided it couldn’t.Instead, they inserted a drain andafter a month’s stay, Gerald was sent home.
Still bandaged up, he went back to his old way of life.A thief.This time, this theft, changed his life forever…
Gerald stole a phone from a younger boy (Danville) in the township. What do you know?It was the wrong boy to steal from.After the robbery, Danville was riding in the car with our friend Chris (a missionary now living in Knysna) and discretely pointed Gerald out to him.Much to Danville’s horror,Chris stopped the car to confront Gerald.This was Gerald.Judge of the 26s.I’m guessing Danville slid down in his seat, out of site.Well, funny thing.. not only did Chris get the phone back, but he took time to share something with Gerald that would change his life forever.He shared Christ.
Hungry to hear more, Gerald met with Chris the following day. He heard that his life matters.He is highly valued.God loves him so much, that he sent his son to die on the cross for him.Gerald’s heart was finally healed, spiritually.He accepted Jesus Christ as his Lord and Savior.And in February, Kurt and I had the privilege of watching Gerald publicly profess Christ at his baptism.
Gerald’s baptism.
I wish I could say Gerald’s life is easier now.It isn’t.He still lives in a run down shack that costs about $25 U.S. per month to rent.His long time girlfriend broke up with him.His mother is still an alcoholic and losing her eye site to cataracts.
What I can say is that his life is better.He focuses on what he does have.He has a brand new job at a glass company (his very first job ever).He has a new family in Christ.He has joy.Most of all he has Christ!
“Patience is not the ability to wait, but the ability to keep a good attitude while waiting.” ~ Joyce Meyer
I spent a day in a South African hospital last month, with my new friend Siphewe. I had the opportunity to meet her when I arrived this year.
Siphewe was involved in a car accident in the Bongani area of the Township on December 24.Christmas Eve.She had put herself in a compromising situation that unfortunately left her with painful consequences.With 6 people crammed into a car, no seatbelt and a driver under the influence, the car in which she was traveling struck a concrete wall.Siphewe was thrown around and broke her back.She was the only one injured.
Afraid he would be in trouble with the law, the driver and the other passengers removed Siphewe from the car, called an ambulance and left her on the side of the road.These people were her friends.Or so she thought.The police were not called.No report was made.
Siphewe woke up in the Kynsna Hospital with no recollection of what had happened.Her friends tried to convince her that she fell down a flight of stairs. They did not want their secret revealed. And although Siphewe lay there on a hospital bed with a broken back, her friends continued to cover for the driver. She eventually started remembering the events that took place before the accident and was able to put the pieces together.
Siphewe – still in pain, 10 weeks following the accident.
I met Siphewe in January, because her family had been struggling to have enough food to eat.She is a 30-something year old woman with her elderly mom, an 18-year old daughter, 18-year old nephew and his pregnant girlfriend, and 21-year old niece all living together in a 2-bedroom concrete home with a shack in the back.Because of her broken back, Siphewe was unable to work. Therefore, shy on money. I was asked to deliver some food to her family.
The day I met Siphewe, I liked her. She is very sweet.Quiet. Kind.I could tell she was in pain as she sat on the couch with a back brace, softly talking with me. She had just been released from the hospital the week prior to our meeting.As we talked, she mentioned that she was scheduled for a follow up appointment at the Hospital in George (1-hour away).I told her that when the time came, I would be happy to drive her.I couldn’t imagine her riding in a packed taxi with a broken back. (A taxi is a 15-passenger van)
Well… my experience in the South African Public Hospital was a true lesson in patience!
Here in South Africa, 84% of the population (45 million) poor, mainly black women, men, and children rely on government health care.People pay for services based on income.These state facilities are often over-burdened and under-resourced. The remaining (9 million) people are medical scheme members (those with medical insurance).These people have access to good but very expensive private hospitals.These centers are more efficiently run and less busy.The quality of care in this two-tier system varies drastically.
I experienced the first.A government run hospital.And it was like nothing I have ever seen.
Siphewe had a scheduled appointment with a doctor at the hospital for 8:30 a.m.I picked her up at 7:00 a.m and we drove a little over an hour to the hospital in George.
I parked the car and we walked in to the main lobby before 8:30. We were on time. But it didn’t really matter. It was packed!At least a hundred people or more were already waiting.Then I noticed the strangest thing.Everyone that was seated would get up together and move to the next seat. Over and over again. It was a huge queue of chairs.So, we got in line.Sitting, standing and moving over to the next seat at the appropriate time with everyone else.
First queue to pick up her file.
After 1-1/2 hours, it was finally our turn to go up to the desk.We made it!Little did I know that this line was just to pick up her file.Next, we were to go upstairs to see the doctor.Ok.Good.Let’s go.
As we got off of the elevator, there was a line of people in wheelchairs down the hall (in the wheelchair waiting area).We walked past them to enter the waiting room full of dozens of people again!I looked at Siphewe, I could tell she was hurting.After all, she has a broken back!!We found seats and sat there quietly as did everyone else.Waiting our turn.Waiting our turn a little longer. Waiting our turn even longer.Then her name was called… 4 hours later.Yes, 4-hours after getting upstairs to where the doctor’s office was located, her name was finally called.Woohoo, here we go.Siphewe walked into the office, closed the door behind her and was back out within 2 minutes.What?How can she be finished already? We waited 5-1/2 hours for a 2 minute exam?
Sit, Stand, Move over a seat.
Haha. No. “We must go downstairs to get an x-ray”, she told me in her quiet voice. Well of course. I figured she would need one. This was, after all, a follow-up for a broken back.Really?They couldn’t have sent us to x-ray first? It took, at this point, a 5-1/2 hour wait for a doctor to tell us to go get an x-ray.
While I was trying to be patient, Siphewe was patient. This is how things are done here.Nothing out of the ordinary. Go from this line to that. Sit, stand, move over.
Downstairs to x-ray we go. You guessed it. Another line.This one was only 1-hour though!
My patience was really running thin when I found out that our next step was to go back upstairs to see the doctor that we had waited so long to see earlier. He needed to look at the x-ray and determine what to do next. What if we have to wait another 4-hours for him? Fortunately he only kept us waiting for about 30 minutes this time.He prescribed some pain medication for Siphewe and basically told her it would just continue to heal on its own.To keep wearing the back brace and return in another 6-weeks.Wow, all that time for the doctor to say, keep doing what you’re doing and come back and repeat this process again soon.
More than ready to leave, I escorted Siphewe back downstairs to the main lobby.Before we got to the front door, she said we needed to stop at the pharmacy in the hospital to get her medicine.I bet you can guess what I saw when we got there.Yes… another line!One more hour of waiting.
8-hours for a scheduled appointment.
As I sat there agitated and frustrated with this ridiculous process… Siphewe, the one with a broken back and in so much pain,exhibited patience and grace. She had received care. That is what mattered.
Sitting, standing and moving over a seat.Never complaining. ~Tracy Cooper
Gingersnaps 