Last night as I sat with Gcinisizwe, Thabo and Xolisilay my heart was filled with both joy and sorrow. These men are such wonderful people, their hearts are filled with goodness and they would do anything for me, they are my friends and I have so much respect for them. They are also survivors of a war called Apartheid. Thabo tells us a story of his childhood in the late 1980's. He lived in a house in the next community over called Lawaiikamp (La-Vie-Camp) with his adopted mother. Hi birth mother was 17 when he was born and his father he has never known. His father fled because at that time the police arrested all of the black men for no reason at all, and he was running to avoid the abuse and torture that came with this imprisonment. Thabo's young mother had no food, no money and no husband to help her. Faced with this hopeless situation she held her baby in one hand and a knife in the other, better this than have him face a life of suffering. Thabo however was rescued by a neighbour who promised to take care of this boy in exchange for his life.
Thabo lived with his adopted mother at the entrance of Lawaiikamp, in a tiny shack that they built from materials commonly found in Canadian garbage dumps. It is often that the police raid this community, it is a time of war and the police, in their minds, do not need a reason to attack. Being that Thabo and his family lived at the entrance to this community they are exposed to a lot of hardships. When the police raid the community they where Thabo's house sits so they are always in harm's way. He has been drenched with Tear Gas more times then he can remember, but he does remember how the gas burned his eyes and his tender young skin. As a boy he can remember feeling as though he was on fire from the inside because of this painful gas. He is a child of war and sadly his is the story not just of him, but of many people in the Republic of South Africa.
One day as he returned home from school the entire community was gone. He rubbed his eyes, not believing what he was seeing. His house, his neighbours house, everything was gone. The government went to Lawaiikamp in the middle of the day and with no regard for the people or humanity they bulldozed the entire community and took away the lives of these families in the backs of dump trucks. With these houses they bull dozed all of these family's worldly possessions, the furniture inside, the money hidden under the mattress that they hard worked for months to save so that they could return home to visit their families in the Eastern Cape, and sadly even the family pet's that were inside the homes at the time of the bull dozing.
As Thabo told me his story I thought about what I was doing at that time. While he rain with arms out, unable to see due to the burning tear gas in his eyes and on his skin I was riding my bike with my friends Carrie and Shawn, eating candies that we bought at the store, totally unaware that my friend Thabo was crying and praying to God to make his pain stop.
People believe that the war is over, that Apartheid is long gone, a distant memory of the past. These people are sadly mistaken. Although 57% of South Africa's population lives in chronic poverty, a figure higher than the struggling country of Burundi, it has been said that not a day goes by that a white man does not rob the black man. Now this is a very powerful and controversial statement that I have just made, let me explain as well as point out that there are many kind and good people here in George, but also some not so good ones, sadly it is always the bad people that make the news.
I listen to endless stories of my friends and their problems with collecting their pay, pay that they earned through bloody hands and sweat and I realize that this country is far from being reformed. These men who have no food, who live in shacks made from garbage, who have mothers and children and grandparents to feed, they work long hours under grueling conditions and when they go to collect their pay in many cases the boss-man has disappeared, never to be seen again.
Xolisilay has been working all day at it is now time to collect his pay, his boss has left and is nowhere to be found. He waits at the house patiently for his boss to return, hoping that perhaps he went to the store and will be back shortly. Six o'clock comes, then 7, than 8pm. Xolisilay is scared, he cannot go home with no money, his family is already so hungry, going home with nothing is not an option yet it is now dark outside and the public taxi's have stopped running for the night. He finds a discarded mattress under the patio of his bosses house and pulls it out so he can sit. Nine o'clock passes, then 10pm. At midnight he hears the garage door open, he is scared so he jumps up, carefully placing the mattress back where he found it. He is standing in front of the patio door when his boss flips the light on. Xolisilay looks at his boss and holds his hands out, politely asking for his pay. His boss is drunk and stumbles. Shocked to see that Xolisilay is still there waiting he backtracks and says "oh, ummm...yeah, I was going to pay you.." clearing his throat "I was going to pay you on Monday. "But this is Friday sir" Xolisilay says, "and my family has no food, we cannot wait until Monday". Finally after a very long day he receives his pay, 100 South African Rand, a tiny amount which equates to 12 Canadian Dollars for a full day of work and 7 hours of waiting in the dark.
You may think that this story is from 1974, during the Apartheid regime, but sadly this happens every day here in Thembalethu, and many times it results in the poor man being robbed of this pay. These men suffer, just hold one of their hands and ask to see their palms. The pain they have endured is nothing short of slavery, or something you would see in a work camp or maximum security prison. They have no gloves and their hands blister under the pressure of their work, to stop means that their families go hungry. They continue to work, their hands bleeding with a stinging pain. There is no time to heal before resuming work tomorrow, they must return to work, trying to remember that they are the lucky ones who were able to find work. There is an estimated 80% unemployment rate in this community. Failure to comply to even the most degrading of treatment means that there are hundreds of other men who will take your place, so they work, and they cry when nobody is watching. These men have been denied lunch breaks and even pee breaks, something I cannot imagine when working for such long hours.
I notice one day that in addition to the existing railings lining the Thembalethu bridge, there are now men installing razor wire. This bridge which covers the N2 highway is the last stop for many men here in Thembalethu, their hope has left them, they are unable to continue the cycle of starvation and cruelty so they jump. For those who are unable to work, of which there are many, they drown their pain with African Beer, drinking to the point of total disarray and other times drinking battery acid, hoping they will not wake up again.
Although this has been a story of sadness it is important to realize that you and I are making a difference. For those of us who have everything it is now that we must act, we must mobilize ourselves and reach out to out brothers and sisters who are suffering. Life does not have to be this way, and it is in our power to change the lives of many people here in Thembalethu. Not sure how? Just ask me.
On a final note I would like to share with you something that I have found to be astounding. These men and women have endured more than you and I could ever imagine, and even though they live with constant oppression and hunger they surprise me with this one point. They do not want revenge for their suffering, they do not want to retaliate or to wage war on their oppressors. These men want peace, and even when their bodies are aching with the pain of hunger they continue to pray to God that one day this suffering will end. I would have thought that they would want to fight the white man, to teach them a lesson for their wrong doings, but to my surprise they do not, what they want is to be respected, to be treated like equals and to be paid what they are worth. They want peace and friendship. To me that is incredible and it teaches me a valuable lesson about humanity and the power of the human heart.
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