Sisters are doing it for themselves ....

A few days ago I was visiting some of our sites in rural mountainous Mpumulunga in midst of the Deep Freeze that gripped the whole country ... we ourselves didn't have heating ... the electricity was skittish and the water supply was downright pre-menstrual ... one night Zanele, Bongani and I had to sleep in every item of clothing we had brought along it was so so cold .... so I was a little grumpy when I was asked to drive my colleague to meet with a support group at a nearby squatter camp ... sure to be even more cold, dark and miserable ....

I should explain here that in post-apartheid south africa .... most black people still live in the black townships, most indians live in the indian townships etc and the white people still live in nice houses in the suburbs .... but the older townships are fairly established communities now with cultures and infrastructure of their own .... the really poor people here live in squatter camps or "informal settlements" which are essentially wood and corrugated iron shacks clustered with no water, electricity, roads etc and incredibly high rates of crime ....

Realising that I couldn't get out of it ... i duly left my computer and credit cards in the B&B, took off my earrings, watch and anything else shiny .... keeping only some "mugging cash" on me for emergencies (better to have a few notes to hand over than to deny having anything at all) .... but i was pretty nervous as we navigated the dirt track and stopped at the shack of one of the women who leads an HIV support group that we work with ....

.... and then I heard the sound of music from within .... any of you who have ever lived in SA will know why i mention this ... south africans seem to be born with some natural ability to sing perfect four part harmony at the drop of a hat .... and every meeting or gathering starts and ends with music, singing and dancing ... its the sort of singing that seems to lift your soul with it (think the scene with the opera in the shawshank redemption) .... and makes you feel that somehow life can be beautiful after all ...

These women are poor - i mean properly rags-dirt-shack-beggar poor .... and yet they manage to band together each week and walk to visit all the other people in their community who are also HIV-positive to look after them and check they take their medications properly ... they don't ask for payment or glory ... they just do it out of a hope of something better for the whole community .... and when i walked in they greeted me as if i was one of their own .... and offered me hospitality as though i was the queen of england ....


They then proudly showed me their scheme to raise funds for themselves and ensure that they eat healthily .... a small area of green garden amidst the misery of the shacks .... growing sugar beets and sweet potatoes, spinach and tomatoes, papayas and avocados .... they have to dig with their hands and irrigate using precious water they ferry up in jerry cans ... and they don't let men into the group because they just steal the money and get drunk .... (the chap in the picture is my friend Bongani)

I was overwhelmed by what they have managed to do with no training, education or advice .... I reached into my pocket and found my emergency 500 rand (about $75) - and gave it to them for a wheelbarrow, seeds, a spade and some wire to keep out marauding chickens .... the hijackers and muggers would just have to find someone else to demand cash from today ....