Salesian Life Choices - Cape Town Youth Book 2017 by Elrie Visser

Copyright © Salesian Life Choices, 2017 First published in 2017 by Salesian Life Choices, Cape Town All rights reserved No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the copyright holder Editor: Sofia Neves Writers: Nurahn Ryklief and Sofia Neves Design and production: Elrie Visser and Hannelie Booyens from Kreativmedia Hub Photography: Peter Harper Cover artwork: Diek Grobler Biographical information about the artists who collaborated on this book was collected by journalism students doing their honours degree at Stellenbosch University’s Journalism Department. A big thank you to the Class of 2017 and their lecturer, André Gouws, who helped to coordinate the effort Every attempt has been made to ensure that the information in this book is accurate and up-to-date. However, information may change s ubsequent to the publication of the book Printed in South Africa

ISBN 978-1-64008-587-9

9 781640 085879

90000

Youth Cape Town

From Victim to Victor

A creative celebration of Cape Town Youth published by Salesian Life Choices

Salesian Life Choices

ILLUSTRATION: JUDY CONWAY

Table of Contents Foreword

Choosing Beauty

10 12

Holding on to a Dream 16 Stopping a Cycle of Violence

Finding Solutions

I Am Who I Am 28 Adapting to Lifeâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s Challenges

Longing for Acceptance 36 Hard Work Gives You an Edge 40 Positive Lessons from Negatives

Choosing to be a Superhero

Mother of All

Breaking Barriers 56 Always Help When You Can 60 Determination Leads to Success 64 A Guiding Hand

Be a Mentor

Education Will Set Me Free 76 Believing in Who You Truly Are 80 Raising Children Differently

A Lesson in Love 88 Artists Biographies

Foreword Salesian Life Choices is a Cape Town-based youth development organisation that believes in shaping the future of the country by investing in youth. We give youth in the Cape Flats choices, not charity. We promote dignity, not dependency.

In 2014 we realised that South Africans perceived youth in a negative light. Stereotypes included that young people are lazy, that they have no vision, that they’re involved with all the wrong things and troublemakers. South Africans were talking about youth or talking to youth but there was little opportunity for young people to have a voice and talk about their lives, their struggles and how they overcome them. At Salesian Life Choices, youth is the reason we exist. We are inspired by their resilience and determination to do good despite their circumstances. We decided to highlight some of the youths who are not letting their situations determine their future. These youth represent thousands who are succeeding and striving for a better life, despite challenges.

For the past three years, we have celebrated South frica’s national Youth Month with a ‘30 Stories in 30 A Days’ campaign. Our annual campaign is aimed at creating awareness of the realities that youth face today, as well as inspiring people to believe in youth. We share one inspirational story per day during the month of June, honouring young people who have risen to the challenges of their lives and grown from victims to victors. Some of the stories are about unimaginable suffering and hardships, but the golden thread that runs through each one is resilience and the power of the youth. We decided to publish this book to celebrate youth. The book is a compilation of the first three years’ most inspi-

rational stories, with portraits by local photographer Peter Harper and illustrations by 21 South African artists. Each artist was given a story and requested to interpret it before meeting the story’s hero or heroine. In this book you will meet young people who have overcome abuse, loss, violence and neglect but have stayed on course to fulfil their potential. Many of them are making a difference in their communities and helping others to also achieve success. These stories showcase the reason WHY Salesian Life Choices believes in the potential of youth and works with them every day. We believe people are born into the world as assets, it is the way we treat them, that make them liabilities. We hope this book inspires you to see every young person you come across as an asset.

SOFIA NEVES

ILLUSTRATION: JILL TRAPPLER

MANAGING DIRECTOR, SALESIAN LIFE CHOICES

ILLUSTRATION: JILL TRAPPLER

Apoline Tchikumba

Choosing Beauty Apoline Tchikumba (17) has travelled a journey of a thousand miles as a victim of war crimes in the Democratic Republic of Congo (DRC). She has overcome many challenges that she says has opened her eyes to the ugliness of the world – but despite all the cruelty, she chooses to be hopeful and to see beauty.

“I was born in the DRC and for the first years we were a happy family and I always felt loved and cared for. We lived with my grandmother in a village on the outskirts of town. “One evening when I was eleven years old, I was sitting with my mom and dad, grandfather and three brothers (then five, seven and twelve) in the dining room of our house. We always had our meals together. My grandfather entertained us kids with jokes and stories of his youth. “As far as I can remember, we were having dinner when we heard people shuffling around outside. My dad went outside to see what was happening, but then he disappeared. Everything happened very quickly from that point onwards. Shortly after, we heard people screaming and the sound of gunshots. At first, I didn’t know what the sound was and thought it was firecrackers. “The rebels forced their way into our house. There were many of them and they pushed everyone outside. We were surrounded by them and they started shooting in the air and in all directions. They looked at the boys and the girls in the family, seeing their size and looking at what they could be used for. They took the boys to become soldiers and the girls to become sexual slaves. “The men made us stand outside our house when they began grabbing at my mother. My grandfather fought with them shouting ‘let her go, let my child go,’ but they

pushed him to the ground. They wanted to show him who was in charge, so they took my mother and raped her in front of us. We were held captive by the other men, and I remember my younger brothers looking to me for protection as they took my eldest brother away. “My grandfather was shoving, hitting, kicking, fighting, but they held him. After they had finished with my mom, they pushed my grandfather back and cut his head off with a weapon – I don’t know what it was. We all just stood there, and I don’t remember much after that. It was just after sunset so it was getting darker. I was looking for my father but I couldn’t find him anywhere. I thought he had been killed too. I couldn’t make sense of what was happening, I think I just ‘switched off’ – until I heard gunfire in the distance. “I remember waking up and seeing the men pushing my mother away and letting go of me and my brothers. Some of them were shooting and they ran off. My mother stood up and grabbed us. She called my eldest brother who had managed to free himself. We couldn’t use the roads, so we ran into the forest with six other families. We spent two nights in the forest. We found dead bodies along the way and I remember thinking we were all going to end up like that. We had to be quiet, so we couldn’t cry or talk. We just walked in silence. “I don’t remember eating anything. It was very hot and I had a pink dress on which made me itch, but I remember I was too scared to say anything. My mom’s feet were swelling up because she was barefoot. The forest

was very deep and its sounds scared me. It had the kind of sound that tells you there was trouble. We would sometimes hear voices, and at other times we would hear animals. We couldn’t sleep because we were too scared that a creature would eat us, or worse still, the rebels would find us. “I think our determination kept us going. At some point, we knew we would get help, and that we weren’t alone. When we complained to my mom about being hungry and tired, she would tell us things to help us take our minds off the situation. She would sing soft hymns to us when we were trying to go to sleep. “After two days of walking, we reached the next town. Nothing could prepare us for what we saw there. We ran into the town and immediately noticed the devastation. It looked the same as where we had come from. There were broken plates on the ground, and you could see that people had been about to eat. There were bodies lying everywhere, their skin was grey in colour. We found a young girl about two years old who was sitting next to a body. We took her with us because she was alone. We also took food and drinks that were left behind. “One of the men who was walking with us said that we were close to Tanzania, that there was a harbour close by and that he knew that we could get a boat there. We arrived at the harbour during the day, and there was no one else there. There were some nice boats, so we spent the next three days on the water.

We arrived at the harbour during the day, and there was no one else there. There were some nice boats, so we all got into one boat and spent the next three days on the water. It was my first boat ride ever so I was curious, but I kept having flashbacks of my grandfather’s death. There were mostly women in the boat so we felt secure with each other.

“It was my first boat ride ever so I was curious, but I kept having flashbacks of my grandfather’s death. There were mostly women in the boat so we felt secure with each other. When we reached Tanzania, my mom told us that the authorities wanted papers from them, but we didn’t have any. “We were arrested because we didn’t have any papers. Women, children and men were all separated from each other. We spent one night there, with one mattress in a cell which we all shared. In the morning my mom told us that the Tanzanian government was going to send us to Malawi, so we went there by bus. I was convinced that when we got off the bus our lives would go back to the way they were but I was surprised and shocked by what happened next. “When we got there we were registered as refugees. They spoke mostly English in Malawi and we couldn’t speak English so it was all very confusing. My mother would always tell me what was happening but she didn’t always understand. “We were given a room to stay in. We would fetch water and food, but there wasn’t always food. It became clear that in order to survive in the camp you needed to give something in return - mainly sexual favours. My mom would leave the camp and try to get food, sometimes staying away for a few days. There was no one with us, just me and my brothers. “There were people trying to teach the kids in the camp, but not in French, only in English. I made friends from other countries like Somalia and Ethiopia. No part of me enjoyed being there, but I tried to make the best of it. I would think about school, and what it was going to be like when we went back. I always hoped that we were going back home.

“After staying in Malawi for about a year, we were transferred to Zimbabwe. We were taken to another camp, where we received food, blankets and clothes. We stayed there for a few weeks, but then the people who were living in the site before us became angry about sharing resources with us. It was very difficult because we felt like there was nothing we could do. “Another problem was that people would disappear. I remember a whole family disappearing and my mom telling me that she thought they were trafficking people, so we needed to leave soon. “The refugee camp was wide open, so we left very early one morning and for the first time it was just us, we didn’t know where we were going, we just walked on the side of the road. Then late in the afternoon on the first day, a white woman drove past and stopped her car. She asked where we were going, but we couldn’t really understand what she was saying. “I remember showing her our tummies to say we were hungry, and she mentioned something about us not being safe in Messina. She sounded like a good woman even though we didn’t know her. She pointed to the car, inviting us to come with her. It’s weird, but I felt safe when we got into her car. My mom helped because she kept telling us that we were going to be okay. “We drove for about two days until we arrived in Cape Town. The woman took us to Home Affairs, where there were other people speaking French and Swahili - our home language! It was the first time I felt like someone really understood us. We waited in the office and we got papers saying that we could stay here for six months. Next, the lady gave us someone’s number and took us to a house in Heideveld. It was a one-room house and she gave us a key and told my mom we could stay there.

“The lady couldn’t speak our language so she got a translator. I heard her telling my mom that she needed to find us a school, so she drove us around to different schools. A few weeks later, my brothers and I were enrolled in school. “The only school that accepted us was an Afrikaans school. I was happy, even though I didn’t understand the language. My brothers and I were the only students from another country. On the first day I was happy, but as soon as the learners understood I couldn’t speak the language, they became mean and unpleasant. They made me feel different. I felt like an outsider who they would treat like a fool at any opportunity. But I wanted to prove to them that I wasn’t stupid. So I would sit where there were lots of kids and I would ask them how to speak Afrikaans. That year, despite not understanding the language I passed. In the process, we all learnt to speak Afrikaans fluently. “This year I’m in Grade 12. I speak fluent English and Afrikaans and I’m doing very well at school. I like helping other kids in any way I can with the subjects I’m good at such as maths, science and accounting. “In your darkest moments, keep moving forward. Never lose hope that things will get better. I have seen cruelty in people but I have also seen real beauty and strength, like in my mom. I choose to hold the beauty of the human spirit close to my heart because this is the only choice that can keep me hopeful for the rest of my life.”

Apoline is a Leaders’ Quest participant.

ILLUSTRATION: DIEK GROBLER

Sinethemba Dyasi

Holding on to a Dream Sinethemba Dyasi (18) has passion and a lust for life. These qualities are almost in contrast to his childhood of growing up in extreme poverty with teenage parents. But he is testimony that your background does not need to determine who you become.

“I was born from a teenage relationship; my mom was 16 and my dad was 17. They both attended the same school in Crossroads near Cape Town and were dating for a few months when she found out she was pregnant. When my father heard about the pregnancy he rejected my mother and me. “I was raised by my maternal grandparents, and I thought my mom was my sister. When I was five, I realised who my mother was through her peers. Some of her friends visited our home on their way from school when one of them pointed at me and said, ‘so is this your child? He is growing fast.’ The truth was that it did not change our relationship; we stayed as distant as before. “Eight people lived in our one-room shack: my grandparents, my mom, her two sisters, her two brothers and myself. Around this time, my grandparents separated, but every two weeks, my grandfather would

come home drunk and started shouting for food. My grandmother asked each of her kids to go out to the neighbours to ask for something. Someone would bring a potato, another would bring some mealie meal (maize meal) and so on. The few things gathered made up the family meal, but for my grandfather, it was never enough. Evenings when he was drunk would end with him beating up my grandmother causing all their children to retaliate and beat him. I still remember how our neighbours sat outside on their beer crates to enjoy the show. “When my grandfather finally left, my grandmother took care of the family by working as a domestic worker, a maximum of two days a week. On Saturdays she borrowed a train ticket from a neighbour and went to a Bonteheuwel slaughterhouse where she collected the bones that were thrown away. Those bones, plus the packet of mealie meal that she was able to afford with her little salary, became our food for the month. In our home we only had one meal a day, supper.

“What kept me motivated at this young age, was the closeness with my aunty. She was only three years older than me and even though we did not have food, we still had a small, old TV. The programmes we watched inspired us and after each show, we imitated everything we saw. We always fought about who was going to be the presenter for the night. Each day, we’d bet who one day would first appear on TV; this bet kept us motivated. We fell asleep on the small mattress we shared with smiles on our faces, thinking about the future. “All the time, my paternal grandmother was observing from a distance. When she finally realised that I looked like her son, she started inviting me to visit during holidays. When I was 11, I asked her if she could ‘borrow’ me from my other family; I knew I wanted to live with her. She was sweet and lived in a real house. I was so surprised when she said yes.

The programmes we watched inspired us and after each show, we imitated everything we saw. We always fought about who was going to be the presenter for the night. Each day, we would bet who one day would first appear on TV; this bet kept us motivated. We fell asleep on the small mattress we shared with smiles on our faces, thinking about the future.

“I felt my life was moving forward but this transition was not an easy one. My biological father was also living there and wasn’t happy about this decision. He made sure I paid for my presence, so he beat me with a belt or a sjambok (leather or plastic whip) every day. I started wandering the streets and spent more time at school so that I would arrive home around 18:30 when my grandmother was back from work. I avoided being alone with him. My relief came each time my father was sent to prison. In my teen years, he was in and out of prison for robbery and house break-ins. “The extra time I spent at school made me a class favourite and I was invited to write a newsletter for an exchange programme with an Irish school. I never used a computer before and suddenly I was having Skype conversations with my peers in Ireland.

“I learnt so much and in addition, I was introduced to Google. One day I wrote an email to a youth TV show just saying: ‘I am 12 years old and I want to be a TV presenter.’

“I am now in matric, working hard to further my education in media studies next year. My positive thinking has always pulled me forward. Believe in yourself and dream - it will help you to succeed.”

“The next day, I received an email inviting me to be the guest presenter for a day. I can’t describe how I felt. I was a star for a day and when I went back to school, I was famous. My aunty couldn’t believe she had lost the bet. This experience once again confirmed my passion for media and motivated me so much I sent the same email to dozens of media contacts I found in Google. A few days later I got another reply, this time from an agent that offered to represent me. For the next two years, I was invited to many auditions and appeared in publicity campaigns of retailers like Edgars, PEP and Ackermans.

Sinethemba is a Leaders’ Quest alumnus and a third-year BA degree student at the University of the Western Cape. He has made it to the Dean’s merit list in the past academic year. Sinethemba is planning to do an honours degree in education next year. He is funded by a bursary from the Department of Arts and Culture as well the National Skills Fund. His aunt has enrolled for a management course at Northlink College. Sinethemba chats weekly to his mom via WhatsApp.

ILLUSTRATION: ANWAR DAVIDS

Chevario Swanepoel

Stopping a Cycle of Violence Like thousands of young people in South Africa, Chevario Swanepoel (19) from Manenberg was caught in a vicious cycle of addiction and family violence. But she found solace in her schoolwork and came to break the cycle of abuse.

“For as long as I can remember, my parents had a terrible relationship, so when they finally divorced when I was 13, I felt relieved. I thought that was the best thing they could do, seeing that they did not love each other anymore. My father argued in court that my mom drank often and that she had an extramarital affair. He was granted custody of me and my nine-year-old brother so we moved in with him and our new stepmother. “I was disappointed that both my parents decided to remarry immediately. Just a few months after the divorce, they were both living with their new partners. I struggled to get on with my stepmother. She was cold towards me and my father became distant. He started taking her side. My stepmother had a problem with the way I dressed. Once she said, ‘I will never walk on the street with you because I feel ashamed.’ I was extremely hurt by her words and by the fact that my dad did not support me. After two months, I told him that I wanted to go back to live with my mother. “My brother stayed with my dad. As soon as I moved to my mom’s house, I realised that things were not going

to be easy, but I couldn’t go back. My mom and stepfather fought often, my mom was drinking more and more and my stepfather was using mandrax and tik (crystal methamphetamine). He denied it, but several times we found his drug tools in the bathroom. “My stepfather is seven years younger than my mom and does not have a stable job. For a few years, mom worked in a factory while he sold fruit at the traffic lights. Financially things were bad at home but when my mom got pregnant she lost her job so things got worse. After having the baby she needed to take care of him and could not work in the factory. She became a hawker as well, selling fruit on the streets with my baby brother. Life was tough and often it was only with my dad’s assistance that we survived. “Things continued to deteriorate at home. My stepfather became physically abusive towards my mom but when I was 14, I started to fight back. Sometimes it got ugly; I would punch and kick him until I was thrown out of the house for a few hours. I would sit somewhere and cry, feeling guilty for what I had done. One night when I was

in bed, both of them were screaming, but this time my mom sounded different. I went to look and saw he had stabbed her in the arm. There was blood everywhere. I took her to the nearest hospital and we spent almost all night there. When I got home from school the next day, my stepfather was there, behaving as if nothing had happened. “I failed Grade 9 and became withdrawn. Now that I know better, I think I might have been depressed. During the third term, I stopped attending school and slept all day. I just wished I was not in that situation. “My dad moved me to a different school, away from Manenberg, where I repeated Grade 9. I found the overall environment uplifting and also made new friends who were more supportive. I still lived with my mom and realised that if I did not stand up for myself I would end up in the same situation as she. I started studying harder. Each night I waited for them to stop arguing and then I studied from 22:00 to 02:00, got up at 06:00, go to school and sleep for two hours in the afternoon to recover before they got home.

Then I understood that my mother was repeating the same cycle as my grandmother. I also started to see that in my extended family I was the only one who did not drink or use drugs. Everyone my age or older was addicted to a substance.

“In Grade 10, I found out that my ‘father’ was not my real father. One day I came upon my stepfather smoking drugs in a corner with another man. He screamed at me, ‘Have you met your father?’ I thought he was high but his words bothered me. This man was a neighbour and I realised I looked like him, so one day I confronted my mother. She confirmed that it was true. The neighbour was my biological father. He had refused responsibility when she became pregnant, so my dad then offered to marry her and take care of us when she was three months pregnant with me. “I felt overwhelmed again. The only person who had really cared for me was not my biological father. I was disappointed in my mother but I felt a deeper love for the man who had raised me as his own. I knew he would always be my dad. I have never talked to my biological father about this matter and I’m not planning to. I love my dad and knowing the truth has not changed our relationship. “At the end of Grade 11, due to increasing school

demands, I went to live with my grandmother in order to study in peace. I knew my grandmother was not in a very good place either, but I didn’t understand how bad things really were. She was married to a man 20 years younger who became physically abusive when they drank. Once, he pushed her down a staircase and she spent three days in a coma. Despite that, they got back together afterwards. “Then I understood that my mother was repeating the same cycle as my grandmother. I also started to see that in my extended family I was the only one who did not drink or use drugs. Everyone my age or older was addicted to a substance. In my matric year I worked hard to keep my place in the top 10 of my grade. My dream is to further my education and study law to become a state prosecutor and one day a constitutional judge. “At school we were tasked to do an assignment about rights violations so I chose to do research on domestic violence. I wanted to understand why women allow

men to abuse them and why they stay in such relationships. I feel I am now better equipped to understand my mom and grandmother. “My younger siblings are my motivation. I want to be a positive role model for them. Maybe one day when I am financially stable, I can help them to further their dreams? I believe God does not place us in a situation that we cannot handle. That is why I keep going.”

Chevario is a Leaders’ Quest alumna. After matric she was accepted to study law at the University of the Western Cape. She received financial aid and for six months she travelled between the campus and her home. She was forced to use the financial aid to buy food for her younger siblings and she dropped out of university. For the next two years, she worked hard to start an NPO in her community. She plans to return to university in 2018.

ILLUSTRATION: LARISSA MWANYAMA

Aviwe Songelwa

Finding Solutions Dedicated to passing his university degree Aviwe Songelwa (19) has overcome a challenging family life, language barriers and slept in the library to attain his dreams. He has the resilience to tackle challenges and find alternatives that will help him achieve his goals.

“My early years were difficult. My father was an alcoholic who drove a wedge between the family members. I grew up in Khayelitsha outside Cape Town as the second born. I was two when my younger twin siblings were born and a few years later my youngest sibling came. Us five children were supported by my father who was a wheel alignment technician and by my mother who was a domestic worker. “My father would drink over weekends and he would argue and fight with my mother. I would always tell myself that I didn’t want to be like him – I wanted to be a better person. Being a ‘better person’ meant being educated, improving my life, having a proper house and being able to take care of my family and treat them with respect. Growing up I was always reminded of that whenever I saw the way my father treated my mom. “My father’s behaviour caused the family to split up and two of my brothers were sent to live with relatives. I can’t remember much, but I do recall going with my family to the Eastern Cape to visit my aunty. When my parents were leaving they just told us that we couldn’t return with them and that we were going to live there. I remember feeling angry and confused. “My brother and I lived with my aunt for two years. The time I spent with my aunt was good, but I missed my mom. I came back to Cape Town when I started primary school. I was excited to return home to my family despite not knowing if my father had changed

his ways and my brother staying behind in the Eastern Cape. “The best part of returning home was going to school. I loved every minute of learning and discovering new things. Teachers would often give me responsibilities, such as fetching things from other teachers - I was like a teacher’s aide. When I was around teachers I felt like they cared for me. Money was tight at home and sometimes I would go to school hungry. Many times my teachers would share their lunches with me. My home life didn’t improve. I guess I found solace at school. “Sometimes arguments at home would start because of really insignificant incidents. I would feel frustrated and hurt, but my mom always tried to make things better. She would take me to church – this helped me to see good people trying to do good deeds. “Beginning high school my mom sent me to a school outside Khayelitsha as she believed the educational standards would be better. My primary school was a Xhosa-speaking school and all our lessons were taught in Xhosa, so I didn’t speak any other language. But when I started high school it was an English-medium school and we didn’t even have Xhosa classes. We only had Afrikaans and English - two languages I didn’t speak. “I remember failing my first March exam because of my

difficulty with the language. My mom encouraged me, saying that if I worked hard I would do better, so I took her advice. It was a difficult time because I felt like an outcast, academically and socially. “Kids would make fun of me when I pronounced words wrong. My behaviour was also different, for example in primary school they would teach us to stand and ask questions and when I did that in high school I was laughed at. I thought that I won’t let this get me down - I taught myself to converse in English. I would hear a word on television and would look it up in the dictionary as nobody at home could assist me. I passed Grade 8 that year and felt so good and proud of myself. “The rest of high school I was dedicated to my work and did well. I enjoyed Life Sciences so much, learning about the human body and what was happening internally - and my teachers made it so interesting. It sparked my interest in becoming a doctor. “In Grade 12 a mentor was assigned to me. We spoke about my ambition to become a doctor, but after some conversation about what I’m really passionate about, my mentor suggested that I also look at pharmacy as another option. I had never thought about it, but I researched it and the idea grew on me. I still wanted to study medicine but decided to apply to study pharmacy as well. I got accepted to study pharmacy at the University of the Western Cape (UWC), but sadly was not accepted for medicine.

Even though I didn’t plan to sleep in the library I realised it was an option that could work for me. What began on that first night continued for many nights thereafter. Although it wasn’t comfortable and I was getting less sleep than at home, I was able to get my work done. I would tell my mom and she was worried about me, but she then began packing extra sandwiches because she knew I would sleep in the library.

“Even though I didn’t get accepted to study medicine, I knew pharmacy was a good alternative. I applied for a bursary and was granted enough to cover my studies, but not the cost of my residence. UWC does not grant students residency that lives within a 60km radius. “My first year was exciting but also overwhelming. Living at home and not on campus was difficult. I needed to leave home by 06:00 to get to a class that started at 08:30. It was not safe to travel home to Khayelitsha very late, so I had to leave varsity by at least 17:30. I travel an hour and 30 minutes each way, so I spent three hours of my day on public transport. Sometimes, when I wrote tests I’d get home after 22:00. It also proved challenging when we had to do practicals because they would mainly begin after our lectures and I would not be able to make them because I needed to travel home before dark. I am lucky enough that I have an old computer at home, but no internet or printer, so all my research needed to be done at university. One night I was so immersed in my studies that I slept at the library because it was my only option. “Even though I didn’t plan to sleep in the library I realised it was an option that could work for me. What began on that first night continued for many nights thereafter. Although it wasn’t comfortable and I was getting less

sleep than at home, I was able to get my work done. I would tell my mom and she was worried about me, but she then began packing extra sandwiches because she knew I would sleep in the library. “I had no blankets, I would put my head on my hands and just sleep for as long as I could – it was never long enough though. It was not comfortable, but it was necessary. I would have a towel and a toothbrush in my bag and freshen up in the bathroom before my lectures. “I did it because I had to if I wanted to finish my studies. I preferred to be in the library than at home, as it was easier to study. Some days I would feel tired and hungry, but I knew I would eat the following day when I got home. “During that year I met others who were also sleeping in the library because they needed to study. Not getting residency on campus is one of the greatest challenges, because there is so much work to do. Students stay in the library for different reasons - their home environment is not conducive to study; they don’t own computers; they don’t have transport money; they live too far or it takes too long to travel in an unsafe environment after classes.

“I felt so proud when I passed my first year. That experience taught me that if there was anything you really wanted in life, you needed to put in the effort. I didn’t mind sacrificing sleep, eating, and comfort, in order to achieve a university degree. “There are many youth like me, who find themselves filled with euphoria as they begin their journey at university, but who are faced with challenges that they are ill-prepared for. I would like for them to keep focused and to not forget that to be at university is a privilege. In South Africa, few learners from the townships manage to finish their studies. When given this opportunity, grab it with both hands, no matter how much you need to sacrifice. I am convinced that the sweet taste of achievement, in the end, will erase any bitter taste along the way.”

Aviwe is a Leaders’ Quest alumnus and currently in his third year, studying pharmacy at the University of the Western Cape. Although not living in a student residence, he rents a room in Belhar, just 15 minutes’ walk from campus, that he can afford thanks to financial aid.

ILLUSTRATION: PJAY MOTUBATSI

Unathi Maqhula

I Am Who I Am Living with a mentally unstable mother who would often disappear from their lives, Unathi Maqhula (16) learnt to care for her siblings and saw that we have a choice in how we deal with life.

“I grew up in Cape Town, raised by my mother. I knew my father because he visited us from time to time, but he had a drinking problem. My mom and I moved often because of financial reasons but she would provide for us with the income she earned from odd jobs. When I turned six, we found stability when my mom got a fulltime job working as a waitress at a hotel. “She worked mostly night shifts, so during the first year of her working at the hotel I stayed with my aunt, but I would see my mom often, almost every day. When I started school, my mom hired a nanny so I could stay at home with her.” “My mom had a good job, so I had everything that I needed. She also gave birth to my sister when I was seven years old. My mom was a loving parent and she would always spend time with my sister and me when she was at home. “After my sister’s birth, we moved twice. My aunt’s place felt like home but we stayed in a shack in her backyard. Unfortunately, my mom would get into arguments with her so we had to move again. I don’t know what they would fight about, but my mom’s behaviour started changing slowly. She would suddenly get angry with people around her and it would be difficult to talk to her. Our relatives turned on us because of the way my mom was acting. “When I turned 10, my mom gave birth to my baby brother and things got even tougher at home. We moved often after that, mostly because of financial problems and my mom’s behaviour. She lost her job

at the hotel - I am not sure why, so we moved to New Rest. The house had no electricity and often there was no food. I would go to school after having a bath in cold water, it was difficult but we made it. “During that time, my mom’s behaviour became worse, and she would often get furious with me. Even something small like when I would go to the loo before doing the dishes would make her really angry. She became aggressive and would sometimes just slap me out of the blue. “I changed my behaviour. I would be on edge when she was around, I avoided asking her any questions or doing anything I thought would disturb her. It was difficult, I was unable to be myself around her. “My mom’s behaviour became erratic and unrecognisable; she would say the strangest things to people. It was like all the crazy things people would think in their minds, but she would just verbalise them. She upset everyone around her, including people in our church. Everyone distanced themselves from us because we were her children. It was difficult to see how people judged my mom and how they rejected my siblings and I. People would say we were no longer welcome in their homes. “My mom would also do the strangest things. I remember being so confused with what was going on. One Sunday, she woke us up early and told us to get ready for church. We left home and got into a taxi. When we arrived at the church, she told us we are going home, so we turned around and went back home.

“I remember the day my mom disappeared. I was 12 and, being the eldest, cared for my siblings in the best way I could. I was at home alone with them and it was getting dark but my mom did not come home. I ended up falling asleep, but when I woke up my mom was still not home. I was wondering where she was – it was very abnormal – I kept thinking that she would never do that to us. “I couldn’t go to school because there was no one to look after my brother and sister. I was really worried that something had happened to her. I couldn’t fully explain the depth of sadness I was feeling. My brother started crying, I checked in the cupboards but I didn’t have anything to give him. I found some sugar so I gave him sugar water. I was just expecting my mom to come home so I told myself that she would be home soon. “She was gone for three days - it was very difficult. I didn’t know any of the neighbours and I was too scared to tell anyone because I thought my mom would get into trouble. The first night was really hard, my sister and brother were crying and the only thing I had to give them was sugar water. “The next day, I walked to my aunt who lived in Gugulethu and I told her that I didn’t know where my mom was. She said that she wasn’t working and couldn’t help us, but she gave us some mielie-meal. When I got home I fed it to my siblings. “I couldn’t sleep at night and it was really hard. I would pray and ask God to please bring my mom back. People told me that they had seen my mom in the

I couldn’t sleep at night and it was really hard. I would pray and ask God to please bring my mom back. People told me that they had seen my mom in the neighbourhood and she was shouting at everyone. I was really worried about her and I was confused by what I heard.

neighbourhood and she was shouting at everyone. I was really worried about her and I was confused by what I heard. “After three days she came back. When she walked in, she was bleeding. She looked terrible and locked herself in her room. She didn’t say anything and I was afraid to ask her where she had been because I didn’t want her to leave again. “For a few weeks after that my mom’s behavior remained erratic. She would shout at me about anything; nothing was good enough for her. She didn’t leave again but it was difficult having her around. “People in the community told me what had happened during the time my mom had disappeared. It seems that my mom was walking around in the community half-naked, wearing a bra and shouting at everyone. When people would ask her why she was naked, she would answer them by saying, ‘don’t people on the beach walk around like this, so what is your problem?’ The day she came back home, two teenagers had stoned her because they felt she was too rude or indecent. “The hardest part is that people would tell me these things and they would be laughing and making fun of my mom. They would tell me it was like watching a movie. It was painful to hear what they had to say; after

all, she was still my mom and I loved her. “After a few months, my mother’s behaviour began to improve and she began acting in the same way as she did when I was younger. She began to change; she would not shout as much and she spent more time with us. “Things at home are still difficult but I learnt to adapt and be thankful for the little I have. My mom has never been able to hold down a full-time job, so she spends her days trying to do things to survive. She is always trying to do her best and many days I don’t even see her. “I have developed a routine in my life and irrespective of what is going on around me, I just stick to it. Every day I wake up and go to school. It takes me 45 minutes to walk to school. I know education is the only thing that can assist me to liberate myself from poverty. “I eat at the school feeding scheme because I know it might be my only meal for the day. After school, I always walk to the library where I study with my best friend until the library closes at 18.00. We both know we need to study extra hard if we want to compensate for our absent teachers and be able to make it to university. “After the library closes I walk home and wait. On some days, no one joins me then I go to bed and the next day I just start my routine again. For a few days a week my

mom comes home and those are the happiest days of all. “Sometimes my mom still loses it with me, but I am fortunate enough that she apologises afterwards. She always says ‘a princess like you should not be treated like that’. I choose to hold her loving words close to my heart and dismiss her behaviour. I love my mom and I know I am blessed to have her in my life. “I am a true believer that poverty can’t take your dignity away. No one at school or in my neighbourhood knows about my situation. Even though I wear old clothes, I am always clean and I constantly have a smile on my face. “I am telling my story for the first time not because I want people to feel sorry for me, but I wish for people to connect with me, see themselves in parts of my story and see me as an equal. We all are what we are because of who we have been. The interesting part is that no matter what your background is, in essence we all have a need for the same basic things. We all have a choice in how we deal with the life we are given.”

Unathi is a Leaders’ Quest participant.

ILLUSTRATION: FRANK LUNAR

Darryn August

Adapting to Life’s Challenges Since a young age Darryn August (27) helped others in his community. When he was viciously attacked while trying to help victims of a mugging on a train, Darryn was faced with the most difficult challenge of personal healing - forgiveness.

“I grew up in Athlone on the Cape Flats as one of four children in a modest home with a loving mom and dad. My parents were actively involved in our church and as a result I became a community activist. From when I can remember I had a desire to assist others. Since I was young, I always felt an obligation to help, whether it’s to carry someone’s groceries or assisting someone with a project. “My first community involvement was in a youth programme at our church but when I was in Grade 10 in high school I got further involved in community initiatives when I joined an organisation as a peer educator. This interaction really broadened my horizons as I was introduced to new people from different backgrounds. I saw how the exposure to leadership training could help people make good decisions in their lives and I knew I had found my calling. “When I finished high school I decided to pursue the calling of helping others and became a facilitator with an organisation nearby in Somerset West that works with homeless children. But one day, while on the train travelling to work my moral compass was challenged.

“I sat in a carriage opposite three ladies when two guys entered, smoking marijuana. As soon as I noticed them I got a gut feeling that something was going to happen. I immediately hid my cell phone in my sock and I whispered to the ladies in front of me to do the same. The two guys approached and began to rob them. Instinctively, I stood up and punched one of them - growing up I did some boxing and thought I could handle it - but the other guy grabbed me around my throat and stabbed me. At that moment I didn’t feel anything, adrenalin was pumping, I just swung around and punched him at the top of his nose. “By now five other guys joined the fight. I was grossly outnumbered but kept fighting. At this point, the women ran away as I pleaded with them to call for help. None of the other passengers stepped up to help; all fled the carriage. I got badly beaten up by these guys; they hit me with a baseball bat, punched, kicked and stabbed me and then threw me out of the speeding train. The force knocked me unconscious. “I woke up when I heard a voice asking if I was okay, but I couldn’t speak, so I tried to communicate through hand gestures. It was a maintenance worker who found

me in the bushes next to the railway line. He phoned for help. The impact had broken my spine and I also suffered two collapsed lungs but fortunately escaped without any brain damage. “I underwent a three-hour spinal surgery for a T7 spinal cord injury, but my chances to walk again unaided were slim. After the surgery, I had to spend the next three months in a rehabilitation centre. Going through the rehabilitation process was one of the biggest challenges I had faced. It was like my body couldn’t obey my mind. I would push myself so hard that the pain was unbearable. But I did not mind the pain because there was hope - a doctor saw movement in my toes. I was relentless while in rehabilitation. For other patients, the day ended at 14:00 but I pushed myself until 16:00. I needed to keep moving, it helped me to stay motivated and extended my healing beyond the physical aspect of my injuries. “I think it was my belief that I would walk again coupled with hard work, that helped me to complete my treatment in two months. I also regained movements in my hands which were also affected by the impact of the fall.

My family and friends urged me to press charges, but I wanted to give them a second chance. I believe people are naturally good and when given a second chance they may be able to turn their lives around. To forgive them was also important for my own healing.

“While in rehabilitation, my story spread across South Africa and abroad. I received messages of support and love as what I did seemed to have inspired people all over. Apparently, I was a hero and my name became a household name. “My cousin and a friend set up a crowdfunding campaign, ‘Everest for August’, to raise money to cover the high cost of my ongoing recovery. It was to assist the ‘train hero’ as I have been called by the media. They had set an initial target of R50 000 but proving the power of community, the fundraiser made over R500 000! “I don’t know most of these people, but they have donated unselfishly and have made me even stronger in the process. It was humbling and made me emotional to know that so many people cared.

“While focusing on strengthening my body and adap– ting to life outside the rehabilitation centre, I continued my work in the NGO sector. I guess resilience and determination motivate people. I went back to work with homeless kids and to my volunteer management role in a community organic vegetable garden in Athlone. My physical condition has changed but my passion is unwavering, my determination assisted me to get back to life as before. “Deep down I knew that I had to complete the cycle before I could fully move on with my life. I hired a private investigator to find my attackers. They were found and brought to the police station where I had a long conversation with them. I asked them many questions about their lives and choices. “We spent three hours talking. I remember feeling deeply

moved when I realised that their pasts were similar to the children I worked with every day. “My family and friends urged me to press charges, but I wanted to give them a second chance. I believe people are naturally good and when given a second chance they may be able to turn their lives around. To forgive them was also important for my own healing. “Challenges will come my way, but I do not allow them to deter me from my calling, I will keep adapting. There are no regrets when you follow your gut to do good, even when the results seem unfair. I chose not to dwell on the past but to trust that things alway happen for a reason.”

Darryn was a Life Choices Peer Educator.

ILLUSTRATION: CLINT WHITE AND SCOTT WILLIAMS

Shaun Jefferies

Longing For Acceptance Being raised by an alcoholic father that physically abuses you is a difficult journey. Shaun Jeffries (30) also had to deal with accepting his sexuality in a hostile environment before he could make peace with his traumatic childhood experiences.

“I started my life in my grandmother’s house in Cape Town. I was two years old when my mother married my father and left the house to live with him. They moved together with all my siblings and they left me behind with my “Ma”. I started forgetting my parents and life continued as normal. My aunt, her husband and their four children also stayed in the house, so I grew up thinking they were my family.’ “When I was seven years old, the youngest son of my aunt fell terminally ill and the family decided that they couldn’t care for all the children at the same time. One day I arrived from school and my “Ma” told me that I was going to my biological parents. I remember being dropped at their house with my small brown case and that I was left in a completely strange environment. I did not know my parents, not even my siblings. I felt confused, thinking that I might just be visiting for the weekend and soon my cousin would come back to pick me up. “When I realised that the move was permanent, I knew my worse nightmare had just begun. I had been raised in a Muslim environment (no pork, no alcohol and high moral standards) and in less than one day, I was forced to eat pork and I was witnessing my father getting drunk in front of me. “After a few days, when my father became violent with me for the first time, I ran away and only stopped when I reached my grandmother’s house. My parents lived in

Delft, I remember running non-stop through the main roads. I did not know where Athlone was exactly but I knew that it was near the mountain so I kept walking and walking. After a few hours, I asked a lady that was selling fruit on the street where Athlone was, she told me that I was in Bonteheuwel. She was kind enough to pay for a taxi and to direct me to Athlone. “When I arrived at my grandmother’s house, I just lay down in my bed and cried myself to sleep. After some time, my granny asked me who dropped me and I responded by pleading to not go back to “those people.” The next day, my mom came to collect me and took me back to Delft.’ “Abuse started the minute I arrived home. My father shouted and swore at me. Soon after he started physically abusing my siblings and me. He used to slap, kick and knock us against the wall. For years, I lived in fear, I thought my father would kill me if I asked for help. “When I was nine years old, I gathered all the courage I had and walked to the nearest police station. I waited for almost an hour before I got anyone to assist me. I told them that my father was abusing us at home. They told me to go back home and that they would send a police patrol to talk to him. I walked home and I sat in the corner of the street and waited for many hours. Finally, the police arrived at 20:30. They called my dad out and told him that it had been reported that he was abusive towards his children. My father

answered, “they are my children and I will raise them as I please. I am teaching them how to be strong.” The police warned him and they left. “I was left behind once again and the abuse continued. The only peaceful time in my life was when I was at school and visited the library. I remember one occasion when I had just arrived home and I was undressing my school uniform. My father entered the room and started beating me non-stop. I managed to escape in my underwear and my white shirt full of blood. I stopped running when I arrived at school. This time a teacher assisted me and brought me home. “At 15 I started experimenting with drugs and my friends gave me crystal meth (tik). I felt hyperactive, I couldn’t sleep, my heart was beating very fast and I couldn’t taste anything anymore. I couldn’t keep still, I kept myself busy with many things. I now know that what I was really doing was trying to keep myself away from feeling anything. I used tik for the next three years. My schoolwork dropped, I lost interest in studying and I often bunked school. I used to sit with friends, partying and drinking with them. When I finally needed to go home, I would smoke dagga to calm me down. I dropped out of school after repeating Grade 10. I was 17 years old. “When my father discovered I had left school, he threw me out of the house onto the streets. But my mom gave me access to the house when he was not around.

I initially thought there was something wrong with me. I asked my cousins about gay people I saw in the community. My cousins told me that to mix with that kind of people was bad luck. So I felt ashamed and I kept my secret for many years.

Between my friends and sneaking into my house, I survived for a while. “I had lost a lot of weight and one day my mom asked me if I was using drugs. I felt so embarrassed that the same day I left my house and went to live with my cousin in Mitchell’s Plain. With the change of environment and with the support of my cousin my addiction for drugs faded away. She gave me some tips and a notebook. She told me to start smoking cigarettes and to write down all the feelings that would emerge. She kept encouraging me and she was the first person that I could openly talk to. I stayed with her, her husband and her child in one-bedroom house for the next six months. After that, I decided to go back home. “At 18 I stopped using drugs. I knew drugs were not good for me. I thought my problems had disappeared but they were there and with time they were getting worse. “I found a job and became more independent. For the first time, I was exposed to an environment that allowed me to confront all my past demons. I felt different since the age of six. I did not like the same things as the other boys did. I used to like modelling and not playing with

cars or jumping roofs and all the other stuff boys did. I used to spend my time with girls and that was when I felt most comfortable. I was 10 years old when I started noticing that I was attracted to boys. “I initially thought there was something wrong with me. I asked my cousins about gay people I saw in the community. My cousins told me that to mix with that kind of people was bad luck. So I felt ashamed and I kept my secret for many years. “I only started dealing with this issue when I was 19 and someone at work referred me to an organisation where I could freely talk about my feelings. To come out of my lie was difficult but once I got the courage to openly be gay, I felt lighter and joyful. “However, hearing all the negative comments from people on the street was painful. It took me a long time to learn to stop responding. Every time people hurt me I wanted to hurt them back. But afterwards, I always felt bad. I started to understand that people are afraid of what they don’t understand. I know deep inside I am a good person and that is what matters to me. “My father threw me out of our house again. However

this time, it was easier to stand on my feet because I was working. I had always longed for acceptance and my colleagues and my real friends showed genuine respect and cared for me. My relationship with God was very important to me, so the fact that my congregation accepted me was the final boost I needed. I started to heal and I learnt to love myself. “My father stopped abusing me physically when I was 23. I told him that I would no longer tolerate his behaviour and if he would lay a hand on me again, I would make sure he would go to jail. I have learnt to be more assertive and to step back when he is drunk and tension is building up. “I am not sure I will be able to forgive my father soon. Looking back it saddens me that his three sons ended up using drugs. Two of us stopped, but my younger brother is still using and living on the streets. I know the forgiveness journey is one I want to embrace in my life, but I am certain it is a journey that will take some time. However, I know that one day, I will master it.”

Shaun worked at Salesian Life Choices until 2017.

ILLUSTRATION: SIKELELA DAMANE

Keaton Harris

Hard Work Gives You an Edge Determination means different things to people. For Keaton Harris (22) his drive to succeed academically proved to be his life’s motivation. He shares his story of persistence.

“My family moved from South Africa to Scotland shortly after my birth. I remember life being comfortable, my dad was a manager in the retail industry and my mom had her own beauty therapy business. We would still visit South Africa to see my mom’s family. “My brother is three years older than me, and we were opposites. He liked playing sport and being outdoors, and I was quiet, preferring reading and spending time indoors. Because of this, I grew closer to my mother and my brother to my dad. “I wanted a relationship like the one my father had with my brother. I would try and be more like my brother by changing what I enjoyed. One of the things I worked hard at was sport. Though I did not love soccer I played because I knew my dad did. “My mom and dad weren’t getting along and I remember them arguing often. But I was only seven and not sure what they were arguing about. During that time my parents separated. I woke up one morning and asked where my dad was because he normally gave us breakfast. My mom told me that he was gone. I didn’t know what she meant but I could see that she was upset so I never questioned. “My world was rocked again a few months after my father left when my brother, who was nine at the time, also went away to live with my dad. My mom and I were alone in South Africa now. We moved in with relatives.

“We didn’t have a bed where we were staying so we slept on a blow-up mattress. I was used to having my own room so it was a bit tough, but I would always hear my mom’s voice saying that we were going to be okay. “School also proved to be a challenge, I did a test and the teacher told me that I should skip Grade 2 and go straight to Grade 3. I was the youngest in the grade which made it difficult because it amplified the fact that I was different to the other kids. I wanted to be accepted so I worked hard on my school work and I achieved good marks. This helped because the other kids would ask me for assistance. I think my love for learning started here. “Times became tough. My mom worked as a beauty therapist and money was not enough so we moved a few times. Initially we were staying with my aunt so that my mom could save for a place. Then we moved to a flat in Gordon’s Bay. “I developed a new strategy to fit in at school. I went through a stage where I would lie about what I had, so that the kids would be friends with me. I would say that we owned a really big house and drive fancy cars. I thought that it would make them want to be friends with me. “When I was 11, my mom was struggling to make ends meet and we moved to Sea Point.

“My mom started dating a guy that lived in Sea Point, so she wanted to be closer to him. I wasn’t really mad because it gave me a fresh start; my peers were starting to ask me about my lies. I liked living in Sea Point, which is a nice area, however our financial problems continued. I was either in Grade 8 or 9 and I remember being called to the office often, where they would tell me that my mom needed to pay my fees. I was scared that other kids would find out and make fun of me. “Home was also difficult, we were eating food that my mom had scraped coins together for us to get – with the occasional meal coming from the neighbours. One week there was no food from those around us and all we had to eat was a packet of Nik Naks (crisps) for a few days. “I began feeling sad and looking at what others had compared to us. I would ask myself a lot of questions. Why we did not have money? Why did I not have my father or brother around? But, the admiration and love for my mom, would lift my spirit and counteract my despair. “I joined a Scout group along with my friends. The scouts helped me feel better about myself, we learnt many skills including first aid training. The training came in handy one day when I was at Somerset Hospital after having an asthma attack. During the evening the guy next to me had a seizure. I remember not panicking, thinking about what we had learned in the training

I didn’t have money to eat and I knew my mom had sacrificed so much for me, so I didn’t want to burden her with what was going on. Luckily the UWC residential services gave students care packages that included tinned food, samp and beans along with hygiene products. and putting him in the recovery position. After a few minutes, the doctor came in the room and changed the trajectory of my life. He came towards me, sat next to me and said that I should become a doctor because not everyone could do what I did. I remember feeling so good because I had helped someone. I had never felt so much purpose before. “I was so focused on becoming a doctor that nothing else mattered. I believed firmly that if I worked really hard at school I would get good grades and be accepted at university. I would place notes all over my wall and spend every moment studying. “The best part about that time is that it showed me that I enjoyed learning new things. It was a place I belonged where I was in full control. Studying became my escape. “I occasionally featured in the top ten over my high school career. During this time, my mom’s financial situation improved, so it was a positive time in my life. We would have money to cover application fees to universities. “I set my sights on studying medicine at Stellenbosch University or at the University of Cape Town. Unfortunately, I was rejected by both institutions. “I felt heartbroken because so much had happened in my life that I thought life owed me this. I worked hard for those marks. I felt hurt and crushed. But I knew I was still meant to study, I didn’t want to take a gap year and stand the chance of not studying. My friend Graham got accepted to study pharmacy at the University of the Western Cape (UWC). He told me they were still accepting applications. I applied in October and was provisionally accepted within a few minutes. But I found it hard to believe because they just sent an SMS. I was happy, not excited because I still wanted to study medicine but I saw it as a stepping stone to becoming a doctor one day. “Life did not improve from there. My first year of studying amounted to R50 000, an amount my mom could not afford. I had to apply for financial aid, the staff were surprised to see a white student who lived in Sea Point

applying for financial aid and residence. They were shocked. But for me it was simple, it was the only way I could reach my goal. “I was approved for financial aid, but then the next curve ball came. I was told that I still needed to pay a registration fee of R4 400. My mom sold all her furniture – couch, television, everything, to raise the money. I felt guilty because I was taking things from her that she had worked so hard for. She also decided to move back to Gordon’s Bay to save money on rent and be able to help me. “I studied harder than in high school, I made copious amounts of notes; my room was filled with them. While others in my residence would go out weekends, I stayed in my room. All I did was study. My mom would say that she wanted me to balance my life and enjoy some free time, but studying became my best friend. I enjoyed learning and my goal of becoming a doctor was always in my mind as a motivation. I achieved an 81.4% average in my first year, my highest mark was a 94% for maths. “I felt good about my achievement and I was confident I would continue receiving financial aid. But the second year began and I was financially excluded. Basically, they weren’t going to pay my studies for that year. Once again, I felt punched in the gut because I had worked so hard. However, I was fortunate because I had made it onto the Dean’s merit list. My mom told me to speak to the Dean about my situation. “During a dinner that celebrated top science faculty achievers, I went to speak to him and explained my situation. I told him that if I didn’t get the funding I wouldn’t be able to continue studying. He spoke to the head of financial aid and they agreed to cover my study fees at a later stage. I could continue studying under historical debt. “The stress about money began affecting my studies. Part of the financial aid you receive is a food stipend, which I relied on. I didn’t have money to eat and I knew my mom had sacrificed so much for me, so I didn’t want to burden her with what was going on. Luckily the

UWC residential services gave students care packages that included tinned food, samp and beans along with hygiene products. I survived on these packages for about a year before getting financial assistance again. “I became close with my classmate Robin and I told her what I was going through. Robin and I would push each other to achieve our best, studying together until early hours of the morning. She became like a sister to me. She lived close to campus and I would spend time there often. Her family offered me stability and I grew close to them. Her father acted as a father figure. My glasses broke one day and the next day both him and his wife told me they were going to get a new pair. It felt good to be accepted. I felt really loved by their family… my family. “I ran for Vice President of the University of Western Cape Association of Pharmacy students and was voted in by my peers. I was subsequently voted President for the following year. All the while remaining in the top five percent of my class. “I was awarded the Abe Bailey Travel Bursary - the youngest recipient of it in the past fifty years. This allowed me to meet other top students in London and discuss the future of South Africa. I used this opportunity to reach out to my father and brother, I wanted to show them everything I had achieved. We met and it was fine. It made me realise that he still cared. It felt good and it was the closure I needed. “I graduated and accumulated 24 distinctions over my university career. I was awarded one of two summa cum laude awards and named valedictorian. I’m applying to go to medical school with the goal of studying cardiothoracic surgery. “I basically sacrificed years of my life in order to separate myself from the crowd. I would go to every class and put in extra hours of studying when others were sleeping. I knew what I wanted and I was determined to make my dreams a reality. I believe anyone can do this. We all have untapped potential. The secret is to keep believing that we are bigger than our circumstances and behave accordingly.”

ILLUSTRATION: FRANK LUNAR

Theo Booysen

Positive Lessons from Negatives Violently assaulted by his father when he was eight, Theo Booysen (18) spent time in foster care, where he learned not to give up. By becoming a role model to his younger brother, Theo grew to understand that his value as a human is more than what he learned from his father.

“My mother is from Manenberg on the Cape Flats and my father is from Cameroon. I can’t remember much about my early years but a move to Johannesburg changed my life. I was five when we moved and I was really excited to explore a new place. Unfortunately, my two older siblings that my mom had before she married my dad, stayed with my grandmother in Cape Town. My mom was struggling to find work after we moved to Johannesburg so I remember my parents being happy when she got a job in London in the telecommunications industry. They thought that it was a good financial opportunity so they decided that I would stay with my father while my mother worked in London. I remember feeling sad when they told me that I would stay behind with my dad. “I had toys and anything I really wanted, but my dad was cold and we would never spend time playing together. I remember clearly my father being a perfectionist. He wanted everything in its place and would shout and hit me if anything wasn’t the way he liked it. “I never felt free at home, I was always scared I would do something that would upset him. I could not touch anything at home without permission from my father. Things like taking an apple from the kitchen or playing with a toy that he bought me would end up in a hiding. That made me miss my mom so much.

“Even though my mom would visit at least once a year and called often, I never felt I could tell her what was happening. I wanted to, but I couldn’t. I don’t know if I was scared to say something that would create an argument between my parents, but I was afraid that my dad could hurt her. “When I was eight, my father beat me so badly that I was taken into foster care for nine months. We lived in a block of flats and my best friend Brandon lived a few doors away from us. We often played together, mostly inside. On that day he was at my house and my father asked us if we wanted to watch TV or play on the PlayStation. We said we would watch some movies and then he left. After an hour we changed our minds and tried to connect the PlayStation with the AV plugs. I remember thinking that my dad would be angry, but at that time he was beating me every day, so I didn’t care. “When my dad returned after a few hours, he noticed that the plugs had been switched. He asked me what happened to the plugs and I lied for the first time - I was too scared to tell the truth. After he raised his voice I told him the truth; that we had swapped the red and white plug. I remember him looking at me and I knew what was going to happen. He sent Brandon home and locked the door. As soon as the door was closed, I ran and tried to hide. But he caught me and just started beating me, first with his hands, which were triple the

size of mine, and then with the buckle of his belt, hitting me again and again on my back, arms and legs. “After the beating, my dad left the flat and locked me inside. Brandon came back, but I couldn’t open the door, so he sat outside the door talking to me. He kept asking me if I was okay and saying that he was going to call someone but I kept telling him no. After a few hours, I told him to go home. “I was struggling to stand, I kept falling and was feeling very sick but I could stand by the bathroom window looking for someone. I saw one of the neighbours and asked her to call the lady who looked after the flats - I would talk to her often so she knew who I was. When she got there, she opened the door and took me to the lift. I remember my white Orlando Pirates soccer T-shirt had turned red from the blood. I remember this because it was my favourite top. “We went to the police station to tell them what happened and then to a doctor who treated my wounds. They arrested my father and I was taken into foster care. I remember driving for a long time before arriving at a foster home for boys. There were 20 boys also living there and I felt overwhelmed. “There were hard times. I was bullied - the older boys would push me around, steal my food and make fun

We went to the police station to tell them what happened and then to a doctor who treated my wounds. They arrested my father and I was taken into foster care. I remember driving for a long time before arriving at a foster home for boys. There were 20 boys also living there and I felt overwhelmed.

of me. But I was forced to learn how to handle difficult situations and I know now that foster care prepared me for life. It gave me the chance to meet so many people and learn from them. I saw kids who had it worse than me; like Charles, a boy that had been abused and ended up in a wheelchair. He would tell me almost every day that I must be grateful – I remember that until today. I can’t explain why but I know that place taught me that I must not give up. “Before foster care, I would think nothing of myself, because my dad made me feel like I was always wrong. In the home, I started helping the other kids with things like soccer, dancing or even school work and this made me believe I was worth something. I spent nine months in the foster home before they returned me to my father, but three days later my mother returned from London. I learned afterward that my father told her that he had sent me to boarding school as the reason why she couldn’t talk to me when she called. She came back

because she didn’t trust my father anymore. After she found out what had really happened we moved to Manenberg to live with my grandmother and my older siblings, leaving my father in Johannesburg. “Manenberg was a completely different environment to what I knew. Living among high levels of crime and poverty was challenging but the lessons from my past kept me on the straight path. I kept thinking that there is no way I went through all that hell with my father to end up as a gangster or to drop out of school. My younger brother (8) also motivates me to not fall into the trap of what is going on in my community. “He is totally different to me and I want to teach him to be bigger than what he sees in the area. He doesn’t know his father, so I’ve taken that role in his life. I talk to him often about how different his life can be. I am always with him – I take him to school, fetch him after school and take him to play soccer. I want to protect

him but also teach him how to look after himself. “I have learned we are not defined by our parents. In my role as a father figure to my younger brother, I choose to be active in his life and love him regardless of what he does. I can break the cycle by choosing not to follow in the footsteps of my father, by learning from his wrongs and deciding to behave differently.”

Theo is a Leaders’ Quest alumnus and studying at the Athlone campus of the College of Cape Town. He is busy with his N2 National Certificate in mechanical engineering. His brother is in Grade 4 and prospering, while his relationship with his mom is very good. His father has since apologised for what had happened in the past, but the two have not yet made amends.

ILLUSTRATION: XOLANNIE SIVUNDA

Lindokuhle Moshani

Choosing to be a Superhero Lindokuhle Moshani (19) is living his dream of studying medicine at Stellenbosch University. Born to a teen mom and being in a gang at school, Lindokhule chose to walk away from being a ‘villian’ to become a ‘superhero’.

“I was born in Lower Crossroads to a teen mom who was in Grade 11 when she fell pregnant. My father refused to acknowledge that I was his child, leaving my mom to raise me on her own. She would always tell me that she dropped out of school to take care of me and that I must take education seriously because she had to end her education at a young age. “I don’t have many memories of my childhood but do remember an incident that happened when I was four years old. I had never met my father but one day when I was at home with my uncle (16) and younger cousin (9), a man came to our house. I was playing outside when he picked me up, put me in his taxi and took me to his house. I remember that it was not too far from where we were staying. “My mother came with the police to fetch me. This was the first and last time I saw my father. Shortly after, my mom got a restraining order to protect us from him. When I was older my mom told me that my father committed suicide two months after the incident. I never knew him so I didn’t feel sad when I heard that he had died. I felt bad for him because of the pain he must have felt at the time that caused him to make such a decision. But I did not feel anything from the perspective of losing a parent because he was never my father. “Not having a father was never an issue because of the relationship I have with my mother. I’m not sure if it’s

because she was young when she had me, but sometimes I felt like she was like a close sister. My mom is very loud and funny, she would make jokes even when something is serious. She has always been there for me, I really felt like I wasn’t without a father because she was both parents to me. When I turned five, she had another baby and I assumed the role of an older brother. I was really excited when I saw my brother, I felt like I needed to look after him. I know I was young, but I always felt responsible for him. “My mom married when I was eight and a life of moving began. We moved into a *hoekie - all four of us lived in one room, it was very cramped. Before she married, my mother worked, but my stepfather was a security guard and my mother chose to stay at home and look after us. Money was tight though, but I guess my mom had her reasons to stop working. “School was great and easy, I remember my friends would struggle with certain things and I would help them with their work. I enjoyed it, so it wasn’t a big deal for me. My mother would always joke that she was clever at school and that I got my cleverness from her. “My mom had two more babies - I loved my sisters but I also had a really good relationship with my stepfather - I call him my father. He always made time to talk to me and find out how I’m doing. I also felt like he trusted me, especially when he taught me to drive. While I was in

primary school, we moved four more times. Sometimes I got tired of the moving, but a few places we stayed in were better and I’m very happy that I could always stay in the same school. “Towards the end of primary school I started mixing with the wrong crowd. The kids in the school and neighbourhood were divided into different gangs - the kids from Lower Crossroads would be a gang and the kids from the other part would form their gang. Today I laugh about how silly it was but back then we were very serious about it. I was in the gang for a year until I was in Grade 7. We took knives to school and fought a lot with the other gangs in the area. “One day one of our members was not at school so we went looking for him. We found him sitting on a wall, playing with a fancy knife. He showed it to us and while I was playing with it I accidentally stabbed him in the head. I saw there was blood, but to this day I don’t know how deep the cut was. I was shocked and scared that I really hurt him and also terrified that my mom would find out. I tried to help him, but he ran home. The next day at school my friend’s mother told a teacher what had happened so she called my mother. “My mother came to school and she shouted at me saying that she couldn’t believe I would do something like that. She kept saying ‘I raised you better than this’ and ‘you could have really hurt your friend’ so she took

This was the end of my short gang life. Afterwards I kept thinking that it could have been much worse. The thought that I could have hurt someone badly, really shook me and showed me the seriousness of what we were involved with. When I was younger I wanted to be a superhero and now I was close to becoming the villain.

me to my friend’s house and made me apologise to him. “This was the end of my short gang life. Afterwards I kept thinking that it could have been much worse. The thought that I could have hurt someone badly, really shook me and showed me the seriousness of what we were involved with. When I was younger I wanted to be a superhero and now I was close to becoming the villain. “In high school my attitude changed and for the rest of my school career I stayed away from fights. This was also when I became interested in medicine. I can’t remember which grade it was but I watched a movie set during apartheid about a boy who needed a new heart. “The movie focused on the story of the boy and his family during that time but the part that stuck with me was that his heart was going to be replaced. I was

fascinated how doctors could take a heart and replace it with another. “From that point, I kept thinking about how it was done. I was talking about it all the time and asking people how did they think doctors did it. Nobody was able to give answers to my questions. From then I just knew that I wanted to be a cardiologist. I was also excited about the idea of saving lives. Growing up I always wanted to be a superhero, so I thought being a doctor is the closest I could get to that. “When I was accepted to study medicine at Stellenbosch University I was thrilled, but the moment that meant the most to me was when my mother told me that she was proud of me. I love university life. The only downside is that I miss being around my younger siblings to protect and guide them, but everything else is wonderful.

“Many of us were once naughty, but I made a choice to change. I’ve been called ‘soft’ because I was always the one to walk away from a fight, but I’m okay with that. I learned that being strong is having the courage to walk away, even when your peers are calling you a coward for not doing what they want you to do. I really encourage all those who are in school to walk away from situations that are going to harm them and others. After all, it is much better to be the superhero than the villain.”

Lindokuhle is a Leaders’ Quest Alumnus and a thirdyear student in medicine. He lives on the Tygerberg campus of the Stellenbosch University. Although he was initially interested in cardiology, he is now considering specialising in surgery or anesthetics. In his free time, he assists as a tutor in chemistry.

*Hoekie is an Afrikaans word for ‘corner’ used on the Cape Flats to indicate a very small living space.

ILLUSTRATION: ANDREW MOKGATLA

Cabangile Mdluli

Mother of All For Cabangile Mdluli (18) life has been hard. Caring for a large family when she was only nine years old, Cabangile has grown up to be a ‘parent’ to her brothers and head girl of her school. “I was born in KwaZulu-Natal as the second child of the family, but when I was three years old my family relocated to Phillipi in Cape Town. I know I was very young but I still remember our first night in Cape Town - we arrived on a winter’s day in terrible wind and rain. We were in a small shack and during that night the wind got worse, blowing the corrugated roof away; soon we were all wet. My parents gathered as many things as they could and in the middle of the night we walked to get shelter in my uncle’s home.

“I don’t remember my mom being at home often during the day but she would always come back in the evenings. As far as I can remember, my brother who was three years older, looked after me during the day. My mom had a third child and when he was one year old, I became his main caregiver for certain periods of time. I was six years old then and besides caring for my younger brother I would also run the family *spaza shop at home. My mom would bring the stock and I would sell it.

“My dad worked as a fisherman, so he would be away for six months at a time. He would visit from time to time, but instead of being happy times it was awful to have him around. Each day he would get drunk and violent. Some days the arguments would start around the topic that we were not his children and other days he would just point to things in the house, scream that everything belongs to him and then start breaking things.

“I remember when the shop opened I also started going to school. I loved school; it was the only place where I could be free and be a child. So, I kept going to school each day without any guidance from an adult.

“Whatever it was that started the fight, things would always end the same way; he would beat my mom while my brother and I would try to stop him. However, he would turn on us and beat us as well. Every night would end with crying and bruises. “Luckily he would only stay for one week or so at a time. As soon as he had spent his money on drinking, he would leave and only returned after a few months. My mom struggled to sustain the family. She had not finished school because her parents did not value education, so this made it difficult for her to find employment. She would also stay away for long periods of time, apparently looking for jobs.

“When I was seven, I finally realised how my mom made a living; my brother told me that my mom had been arrested for shoplifting. He knew all along that this is how we survived because he had occasionally gone with her. I remember not judging her because I was too afraid she would never come back. My mom was released two weeks later. In the meantime, we survived by eating the food that remained in the shop. “When my mom came back she told me that shoplifting was the family business, that she would always make a plan for us to eat and that I should not worry. From that time on, she often disappeared for longer periods of time, sometimes for a full month but we knew she would always come back. “Due to my father’s physical abuse that got worse at his rare visits and my mother’s absence from home, she decided that we should live with her parents in rural KwaZulu-Natal. I was nine and at that time we were five

siblings aged eleven, nine, six, one and six months. My mom accompanied us and stayed for one week to help us settle in. I never saw my father again. “The living situation was an improvement, but the household was already caring for many children. My grandparents lived in a hut with two rooms next to it. We were 19 people living there: my grandparents, four of their children and 13 grandchildren. I had never lived in a home with so many people. My mom kept sending money but life was not easy. “With the exception of my younger sister (1), a cousin (10) and my grandmother, everyone else in the household was male, so according to traditional culture, my cousin and I became the main carers in the household. We would wake up at 05:00 to collect buckets of water from an outside tap about 30 minutes’ walk away. Then we would boil water, prepare breakfast - we would not normally eat - clean up after everyone and then go to school but my cousin and I always arrived late at school. “After school, we would go to the communal garden where my grandparents had two plots of land. We would work for two hours, go home, cook dinner and clean the house. We would be the last to go to bed. Weekends were no better; we would wash everyone’s clothes, clean and cook. “One good thing about those years was that I grew very close to my cousin. We did everything together and supported each other. My brothers’ lives were not easier than mine; they would take care of the cattle. If a cow went missing they would be sent to go look for it and told not to return if they didn’t find it. After four years living like this, we lost my sister (4). It was the last

I had no contact with my mother since last year. The last time I saw her she visited us for the day. She looked homeless. I asked her to let me wash her clothes and the next day she left. I am worried about her, but deep inside I know she always comes back.

day of school in June and my sister started coughing. We took her to the hospital but two weeks later she passed away. I couldn’t believe she was dead, she was like a child to me. I felt guilty, my mom entrusted her to me and I let her die. I thought I could have done something about it. I still dream about her, even today. “A year later my grandfather died with similar symptoms. He coughed for weeks, lost a lot of weight, had night sweats and screamed at night. Even though no one told us the cause of my sister and grandfather’s deaths, I suspect it might have been tuberculosis. “After my grandfather passed away, my uncles told us that we did not belong in that household and that we should go. So I was 13 when we moved back to Cape Town to stay with my mom for only six months. She finally found a job in the construction field and had to move often as she worked around the country. She sent money when we needed it and life was good. We easily adapted to being by ourselves again and it was much easier for me to take care of only two young siblings. My mom would visit once every two months but we called her once a week if we had airtime. “When I was 15 my mom stopped sending money but she received three child grants from the government.

The money was deposited in an account that she gave me access to. I felt the R840 was plenty of money as I managed to buy food, electricity and some school materials for the month. “When I turned 18 the financial situation at home got worse as I did not realize we were going to loose one of the grants. In the month of my 18th birthday, I went to the bank and saw we received less money. It was difficult to adapt to this new situation - less money and more expenses. We now received only R620 per month and my older brother had started university. I would send him R200 per month which left me with R420 for me and my two brothers. It was hard at the end of the month not having food to give them but we got used to the situation and we kept going. We have survived and we will continue surviving. “I had no contact with my mother since last year. The last time I saw her she visited us for the day. She looked homeless. I asked her to let me wash her clothes and the next day she left. I am worried about her, but deep inside I know she always comes back. “I am in matric now and students selected me to be head girl at school. I did not expect them to vote for me. I was glad for the recognition, but it has been compli-

cated as it gave me more work in addition to my home life and academics. But I am glad I am giving my best and leaving a legacy at school. I am a top student in my grade and plan to study BCom Accounting. My wish is to have a career that gives me a decent salary as I want to buy a house for my mom. “I live my life according to two principles. The first one is to always forgive. If you don’t forgive you become bitter and you stop living. So, forgive and move on. My second principle is to be grateful, no matter what. I never forget that there are people out there in worse situations than I am. So always make the best of your situation no matter how hard it is.”

Cabangile is a Leaders’ Quest alumna. She is a second year student at the University of Cape Town where she studies social work, saying that “this is what I was made for”. She lives in a student residence and is funded by a bursary and the National Skills Fund. Her brothers are doing well; one is at college, the other in Grade 12 and the third is with family in KwaZulu-Natal. Her mother lives in Vredenburg, a coastal town about 150km away, and has part-time work.

*A spaza shop is an informal convenience shop usually run from home selling small household items.

ILLUSTRATION: SAMANTHA RALL

Suleila Dreyer

Breaking Barriers At the age of 17, Suleila Dreyer has received over 22 awards for rowing but the greatest gift the sport has given her is not a medal but a better understanding of people from other cultures.

“I was born in Retreat to a family of combined religions. My mother was Muslim and my father was Christian but I didn’t notice anything different about our family. I would celebrate Christmas with my dad’s family and Eid with my mother’s family. Growing up, I felt accepted by everyone. “We lived in a Wendy house* in the backyard of my grandmother’s house but moved to live in a small house in Lotus River when I was three. Growing up I would always be running, playing soccer, just being active. I really enjoyed doing anything physical. When I’m playing and I win, it gives me the best feeling in the world. “I find it easy to make friends as I am an outgoing and outspoken person. My friends were all from our neighbourhood so we had things in common - we liked the same music and we had the same beliefs so it was easy being around them. “In high school, a teacher was looking for people interested in rowing – a sport predominantly practiced in rich areas by white people. I was interested, signed up and really enjoyed it. I loved how free I felt when I was on the water. In the beginning, it was tough because I had no idea of what to do but we had good coaches who showed us the technique. It was a completely new experience and I think I fell in love with it from the beginning. In Grade 8 a few weeks after I joined I was chosen to join the Western Cape Rowing Club.

“I was really happy when I joined the club and my parents were very proud of me too. The training was hard because we would train every Tuesday and Friday, while nearer to the race day we would train every day. I looked forward to practice because when I was rowing it felt like all problems would be gone – stress at school or at home would no longer matter. It was just me and the boat. “My teammates and I would train on Zeekoevlei lake and on special occasions we would practice on rowing equipment at the University of Cape Town. My coach was merciless, she pushed us very hard. I was the youngest in our team but that didn’t matter to her. I feel like that really gave me a lesson for life because even when I’m tired at school I push through and try my best. I received my first medal - bronze - when I was 13. “I loved the open space and the strength required when rowing. I really enjoyed pushing through the pain and challenging myself but I remember a race in Grade 10 where I learned one of my greatest life lessons. “A regatta (rowing race day) was taking place on Zeekoevlei and I attended with my club. There weren’t enough girls in the team to make up a squad so the organisers entered a mixed team for a 200m race with members of all competing clubs. I remember not feeling that great about rowing with girls from other clubs because I didn’t know them. We were also from different parts of Cape Town and different racial backgrounds, so I

thought we would have nothing to talk about. I just preferred to row and be with the people from my neighbourhood but I really wanted to take part in the regatta so I joined the mixed team. “One member of the team was a girl named Pier; we had seen each other at a previous regatta. We had competed and her team, PGC (Peninsula Girls Club), came third while we came fourth. After the race the organisers found out that they didn’t weigh their boat, so they were disqualified and we received their medals. We went over to them to apologise for what happened but they just ignored us. “When we saw each other before the race, we greeted, but only started talking after our team won the mixed race. She told me that she had a shoulder injury and that her team and coach had written her off so she wasn’t able to attend the SA champs (South African championships) in Johannesburg. I told her that I’m not attending the championships either because our team didn’t have enough experienced female rowers for the competition. I was surprised that we had something in common. “After the race, I was walking home when this big van pulled up - it was Pier and her father. Her dad asked me if I wanted to be Pier’s doubles partner at the champs. I remember at first I wasn’t sure because we were complete opposites and spoke for the first time only 30 minutes before but I really wanted to go to the champs,

We won the race and the feeling was indescribable. We felt great because we came together from opposite worlds through our love and passion for rowing and we proved our talent. Through a common passion and a common goal, all barriers disappeared.

so I agreed. We exchanged numbers and just as I was telling my mommy about it, Pier’s dad called. He told my mommy that they would take care of all the finances and that they think I would be a great partner for Pier. My mom spoke to my dad and they agreed that it was a great opportunity for me. “I spoke to Pier on the phone and we agreed to train from 06:30 to 07:30 every morning as we only had a week to train before the race day. They would fetch me from home each day, but on the first day they were late because they didn’t know where Lotus River was. They lived in Constantia and I guess it was because they weren’t familiar with this side and were afraid to get lost. “Training was gruelling, we didn’t have a coach so we trained by ourselves. We realised that we really complemented each other’s rowing technique. She was more technical while I was passionate and had more strength – so we made a good team. “I travelled to Johannesburg with Pier and her mother on the Monday before the race, because her family believed that we needed time to acclimatise. We stayed at a lodge, where we had the top storey and her mother stayed on the bottom floor. They were strict about eating at the same time and having pasta for supper every night before the race. “At home, before a race, I would eat whatever there was as I didn’t want to add to my parents’ stress by asking specifically for certain foods. I remember Pier was obsessed with Bioplus (an energy and vitamin tonic). She said that it will help us race faster and perform

better. I would laugh and kept telling her that nothing but God would help us in the race. She was not religious and we would often talk about why she chose not to believe in God. I couldn’t understand why she didn’t believe, but I did learn that I can’t push my beliefs onto someone else. We would never argue about it, but would have long discussions about it. “Living with Pier’s family for those few days before the race, I saw many differences between my reality back home and Pier’s. From spending time to acclimatise and special food to having a shower - everything was different. At home, we have a bath but no geyser, so if we want warm water we need to boil water in the kettle. It’s such a nuisance that most times I just prefer washing in a bucket. Another difference was that whenever they needed something they would just go to the shop without worrying if there was enough money to buy what they needed. At home, money is tight but we always make a plan. “Even though I enjoyed the luxuries while in Johannesburg, I missed home. During the time I was there, Pier and I found out that we had some things in common and I learnt from her, especially regarding good nutrition for rowing. But I would think about what my family was doing at home. “On the race day, we were both nervous and excited. I prayed for us to win and have a good time while she insisted we drink Bioplus. In the race we competed as an independent pair against two PGC teams. I think Pier was happy to see that we were racing against PGC because she was dropped from the team that went to

Johannesburg. She wanted to show them what she could do and that she was good enough. “We won the race and the feeling was indescribable. We felt great because we came together from opposite worlds through our love and passion for rowing, and we proved our talent. Through a common passion and a common goal, all barriers disappeared. “This experience has shown me that I was quick to judge people in the past. I would look at the other competitors and assume that their lives were perfect based on where they came from. After spending time with Pier I learnt that even though our lives were different, it did not make her better. I would have never admitted this before, but deep down I thought white people were better. Now I know we are just the same. “I stopped comparing myself to others. Today I don’t assume anything or judge people by what they look like or where they come from. I know now that we are all different but in the most fundamental things we are all the same. I am ready to get to know people just for who they really are.”

Suleila is a Leaders’ Quest alumna and currently a first-year student at the University of Cape Town studying towards a BA degree in social work. She won three awards for best sportswoman of the year in matric as well as academic achievements, but has since stopped rowing due to other commitments.

*A Wendy house is a small wooden house often used as a tool shed or storage room.

ILLUSTRATION: RAMONA SOGA

Mongezi Mabena

Always Help When You Can Transformed from a neglected and abused child, Mongezi Mabena (20) understands the real meaning of success through helping others.

“Both of my parents are from the Eastern Cape but they moved to Durban for work. This is where I was born. My parents had children from previous relationships; my mom had two girls and my dad two boys, but only the girls stayed with them. Together they had two more boys and I was the youngest of everyone. “When I was two, my parent separated. My dad stayed in Durban while my mom moved all of us siblings to the Eastern Cape nearer to her family. As I was the youngest, she took me to live with her in the Western Cape. I suppose she moved to Cape Town because working opportunities were better, so we stayed together in Gugulethu. “The arrangement with my dad was that my brother and I would visit him in December every two years. I don’t recall those years very well because I was too young, but I remember that my mother would be absent for long periods of time and I would stay with a nanny. The few times I visited my dad were also strange. We hardly knew each other and we did not have a lot in common. “When I was seven, I was sent to stay with his siblings in the Eastern Cape - no one explained why. I had just started school and remember feeling as if I had done something wrong and I was being punished. After a year, my mom moved me back to Cape Town and I finally understood the reason for my move; she had just had a new baby boy. “I was then in Grade 2, eight years old and I decided that I did not like school. I felt it was boring and it did not stimulate me in any way. I started missing a lot of school days because I did not have a lot of supervision

at home – mainly a nanny. I would leave home as if I was going to school but I would spend my days in Montana, Bonteheuwel, Rylands and Pinelands with friends.

combination of my sibling’s supervision and the Grade 5 curriculum that I found more challenging. I finally felt I was learning something.

“We would ask for money and food on the street or we would go door to door. We would also steal chocolates at Shoprite. With the money we made, we would buy fish and chips and play machine games the rest of the day.

“Life continued as normal, but now I was mainly cared for by my elder siblings instead of a nanny. My mom continued being absent for long periods of time and our relationship was almost non-existent. The few times she was at home, she was cold and bossing everyone around. If you did not do what she wanted she would beat you up. So, we preferred to live alone.

“I only went to school to write tests. I had a neighbour that would tell me when we would write and I made sure on that day I would be at school. The teacher would always be furious because she couldn’t comprehend how I could perform well at school. To me, the scores kept reinforcing my belief that school was for idiots. In Grade 3 I was the top achiever in school. “When I reached Grade 4, my mom brought my two sisters and one brother to live with us in Gugulethu. My brother joined my school. He was older than me and he noticed my absenteeism patterns so he told my mom. I remember my mom visiting my school. She confronted the principal and they called me to his office. She commanded the principal to give me a hiding; he beat me heavily. “My mom’s words to him, ‘I will not visit this school again. It is your responsibility to keep my child here. If you beat him every day, so be it’ will stay with me always. “I tried to resist the rules for a while but in Grade 5 started attending school regularly. I think it was a

“In the same year, my father passed away. I did not know the guy, so I didn’t feel anything. However, when I heard that a few weeks before his death he asked to see my brother and me, and my mom had refused, I did get upset with her. “In Grade 6 I had a strict teacher for the first time in my life. Mr. Madubedube was very strict with us, so I feared him and I became even more committed to my studies. At the same time, I joined an organisation in my community that taught me life skills, exposed me to youth with positive dreams and had facilitators who believed in me. This made me understand that I had not received any education at home and that I had just been given free will. This was the year I decided I wanted something better for myself. I guess the support from my teacher and the community organisation, helped me to cope with the deterioration of my fragile family life. “My brother – the one that brought me back to school – dropped out of school in Grade 7 and started using drugs. My mom forced him to move to the Eastern Cape.

A year later my older brother in the Eastern Cape broke into a shop to maintain his drug addiction. He was beaten to death. I remember hearing the news on a Saturday morning. I was getting ready to go for a tutoring session and my mom called to tell me. “We missed him, so during the summer school holidays, all of the siblings visited him in the Eastern Cape. We were all small and my older sister, 15, was the one who took care of us. During the holiday, my sister disappeared for few days to visit her boyfriend and the rest of us stayed without supervision and food. We called my mom and told her. “I will never forget the day we returned to Cape Town. My mom was waiting for all of us. She confronted my sister about what had happened and beat her up badly, even breaking my sister’s finger. My sister went to the clinic and reported my mother to the authorities. She was in Grade 10 at the time and she had been learning about children’s rights.

on my back. “I still remember the pain of the water entering my skin. I ran out, took my T-shirt off and tried to clean myself with cold water. The pain was so intense that I took a *taxi and went to the nearest clinic by myself. The clinic staff asked me about the incident and encouraged me to report it, but I knew that if I did it, I would be without a home in no time. So I refused. “Since that incident, I tried to keep some distance from my mother every time she returned home. The only times I spoke to her was when she was targeting my younger brother. I felt responsible for him and every time she was abusive towards him, I would intervene.

“The police came to our house and arrested my mom. She screamed at the police that if they thought they could tell her how to raise her children, they should take my sister and raise her themselves. She screamed at my sister that she would be out of the house as soon as she was released. Deep inside I knew my mother was not joking.

“When I reached Grade 10, I was 16 then, my only sister remaining at home got married and moved out. I was left in charge of my 11-year-old brother. My sister would visit once every two weeks to bring groceries so I didn’t feel I had such a big responsibility. We were always taught to be self-sufficient and it was much better to be alone than have my mom around.

“My mother fulfilled her promise. She kicked my sister out. I heard that my sister lived with friends for some time but later on moved in with an older man and fell pregnant. I started hating my mom for being such a bully. Every time I made a mistake, I would make sure to make it worse. I knew I was going to get a big hiding anyway so I wanted to give her a good reason for it.

“By that time I was a top student at my school and my brother was also very dedicated to his studies. So, we would go to school and keep each other company afterwards. I don’t feel I really took care of him, I think we both supported each other.

“The scars on my body kept accumulating but none was so bad as what I got when I was 15. The previous day, we had an African ritual at home. As per tradition, there was a lot of alcohol, I drank and got tipsy. The following day, my mom confronted me. We were in the kitchen and she started screaming, I told her that I just drank at home and only the drinks she had bought. I turned to walk away and she poured a kettle with boiling water

“A year later my older brother in the Eastern Cape broke into a shop to maintain his drug addiction. He was beaten to death. I remember hearing the news on a Saturday morning. I was getting ready to go for a tutoring session and my mom called to tell me. For the first few hours, I was emotionless, I got dressed and went to tutoring. “I am not sure I was very present in the session but when I returned home, it hit me. My dear brother was dead

and I did not have the chance to help him to free himself from this horrific end. Even today, when I think about him, I feel guilty. I feel it was my responsibility to keep him safe after what he had done for me. “As a result, I was determined to become a success, so I dedicated myself to my school work and was accepted to study BCom Accounting at the University of the Western Cape. “In my first year at university, I did well academically but also started an organisation on campus to help others. ‘Barefoot Thursday For Africa’ is an initiative that collects shoes to give to those who don’t have any. Through my teens, I was motivated by the desire for my own success. I wanted to have a job that would pay me a good salary, so that I could have all the freedom and power to make decisions over my life. “As I get older, I have come to realise that real success is not an individual journey. I am now working hard to get a job that provides me with a decent salary so I have time to help others. “I was lucky enough to understand at a young age that there was more to life than what I saw at home. As soon as I committed to succeeding and I set up a clear goal for myself, there was nothing that could deter me from my goal. But the real lesson was when I realised that my personal success would mean nothing unless I use it to assist others to succeed as well.”

Mongezi is a Leaders’ Quest alumnus. He began studying for a BCom degree at the University of the Western Cape. He dropped out in his second year because his girlfriend fell pregnant. He decided to find a job and support his child for a few years before returning to university to finish his degree.

*Taxi – A minibus that carries passengers.

ILLUSTRATION: LIZANNE SMIT

Mvuyisi Ngaleka

Determination Leads to Success Delayed for years in starting school, Mvuyisi Ngaleka (21) is a man of theories, formulas and a love for numbers. Poverty and education difficulties when growing up has moulded him into the determined person he is today, working towards a career in accountancy.

“I had a rough start in life. My parents were struggling to support our family of four. I was not fully aware of the troubles, but when I was six and my parents got divorced, I soon realised that our situation was not good. We moved with my mother to Khayelitsha where we shared a small shack with my grandparents, aunt, uncle and three cousins. “I remember it being very crowded and the adults all struggled to get work. My mom became the breadwinner supporting the family with the money she earned with part-time work as a domestic worker. I realised how bad it was when my sister and I did not go to school like our neighborhood friends. “I asked my mom why we weren’t going to school and she told me that there was no money for it. I remember just sitting on the cold floor, crying. My older sister, who was eight, was with me and really helped me by playing

with me, especially in the morning when we watched all the other kids go to school. “I wanted to go with them badly, I would always imagine what it would be like to go to school. I thought by waking up early like they did I was doing something similar to my friends who were on their way to school. I clearly remember church on Sundays when I heard the other children pray to pass their subjects, so I would pray to pass too. I laugh about it today because it makes no sense now, but I guess at that time it made sense to me. “It was only when my aunt came to Cape Town to fetch me and my sister to return with her to the Eastern Cape that we started school – on the same day we arrived. I was nine when I started Grade 1. I realised now that I have learnt so much during those hard years - my attitude towards school was formed at that time. When

I started school the teacher said I need to do Grade 1 for two to three years to adapt to a system that was foreign to me. “I remember telling myself that there was no way I was going to stay behind any longer. So I worked hard and after a year the teacher said I was ready for the next grade. “From then on I would stay at the top of my class and could help my classmates. My dad had a full-time job working at a fruit and veg shop, so life was easier in the Eastern Cape. I stayed with my father until I completed Grade 8. My parents then decided to send me to school in Cape Town, because they believed Cape Town’s level of education was better. “When I returned to Khayelitsha I noticed that many of the kids whom I watched going to school had dropped

I tried for weeks, going from one office to another, explaining my situation to people and asking them for a chance to study. My family and friends kept telling me to give up, to go back to the Eastern Cape and find a job. But after a few months of persisting, I was informed that I had finally been accepted to substitute a student that had just dropped out.

out and turned into thugs. This really made me think and, surprisingly, be thankful for the hard times I experienced. I realised the value of education without anyone telling me.

my plans and in my last year of high school, I applied to several universities with my first career choice. All universities rejected me and I found myself with nothing to do in the year post matric.

“I made sure I dedicated myself to my studies in order to achieve my dream of becoming an economist. So when I received my first career guidance session from an organisation in my community in Grade 11, I was crushed. I had the wrong subjects for my choice of career. No one had ever explained to me that taking *maths literacy instead of pure maths would make such a difference to my future. To realise that no university would accept me to study economics was heart-breaking.

“I had heard that the Cape Peninsula University of Cape Town (CPUT) offered a National Higher Education Certificate in Accountancy that did not require pure maths. So, in the same manner that as a child I prayed to pass school when I was not even studying, I went to CPUT and queued with the students who had been accepted and were registering for the year.

“I was determined. Despite advice to change my career option and a faulty education system, nothing was going to hold me back from my dream. I continued with

“I tried for weeks, going from one office to another, explaining my situation to people and asking them for a chance to study. My family and friends kept telling me to give up, to go back to the Eastern Cape and find a job. But after a few months of persisting, I was informed that I had finally been accepted to substitute

a student who had just dropped out. I couldn’t believe that my determination had paid off. I was delayed by three months but it did not make any difference; from the first day at university I dedicated myself to work extra hard and quickly caught up with everything I had missed. “My key to success is determination. My biggest asset is believing that my dreams are a reality. I behave as if my dreams have already been achieved. The belief that I am an accountant makes me behave like an accountant even though I am only in my first year.”

Mvuyisi is a Leaders’ Quest alumnus. He is still studying and has become a qualified tutor to over 200 students.

* Two mathematical subjects are offered in South African schools: pure maths and mathematical literacy. Mathematical literacy is a subject that uses mathematical concepts and applies them to everyday situations but it is not regarded as a proper mathematical subject.

ILLUSTRATION: ORLI SETTON

Noxolo Magengenene

A Guiding Hand Raised by visually impaired parents, Noxolo Magengenene (17) has never viewed herself as less loved or cared for. While she admits that her life is different, caring for blind parents have taught her to overcome impediments.

“I was raised in the Cape Town township of Nyanga, as an only child of two loving parents. We are an average township family, but the only thing that stands out is that both my parents are blind. They lost their sight at different times in their lives: My mother’s blindness was caused by diabetes when I was five and my dad went blind when I was twelve. It was caused by an accident at his work. “My earliest memory of my mother’s blindness was when I was six years old and when I told my father that I would go with my mom to the clinic. My dad always took my mom to the clinic and he was always exhausted between work and taking care of her, so I wanted to give him a break. I told him that this time I would go with her. We travelled to the clinic with a taxi; my mom knew the way so it wasn’t that bad. When we got to the clinic the nurses told me that my mother needed to take insulin for her health and that I must

help her because my dad was too scared to do it. The nurse at the clinic showed me how to inject my mom and how to check her sugar levels. She needed to take it every day between 18:00 and 19:00 pm. “I didn’t get nervous; to me it was exciting. I would imagine that I was a doctor or a nurse. The nurses also motivated me and said that I must keep my mom safe and pray to God to help her. This I did for years, helping my mom with her medication. I did not mind it and felt inspired by my mom’s determination. “My mom is a real inspiration. She did not let her blindness keep her from experiencing life. She joined the Light & Healing Centre in Tokai, where she was trained as a masseuse and this is where she now works. “When I was 12, my dad had an accident at work that left him blind as well. He was working in a wood factory

when a nail that was in chemicals shot into his eye and became infected. I heard my parents speaking about the accident; the doctor told them that if my dad doesn’t have laser surgery to remove what was in his eye, he would go blind. But my father did not have the surgery, as he was too scared and over time he lost sight in both eyes. “My father would do things around the house but then it became my responsibility. Home life became challenging because I was becoming like a parent now. We live in a one-room house with one bathtub, so to get everyone ready on time and for me to get to school I have to wake up at 04:00. “The first person to wash is my mom - I need to help her when she gets up so that she doesn’t hurt herself. I then pack a lunch box for her and iron her clothes. Every morning a shuttle that transports people with

I miss school sometimes because I need to accompany my parents to the clinic or to get their grants. We survive thanks to my mom’s work and the government assistance we receive. Many people feel sorry for us, but I feel proud of my parents. They have overcome many challenges in their lives.

disabilities takes her to her job as a masseuse. After that I take care of my dad, he remains in the house because he does not work. “After getting everything ready, I pack my bag and leave for school. I need to walk for about thirty minutes as we don’t have much money so taking a taxi is not an option. At school, I sometimes can’t concentrate because I am thinking about my situation at home. I also think of my mom because there are times when she gets really sick because her sugar is too high. “When I go back home, I take care of the house and prepare food for us. Only when I have finished all my responsibilities I start with my homework. Sometimes I am so tired that I just go to bed. “It feels good being able to help my parents, but sometimes I get tired, especially on nights when my mom needs me more. We have an outs ide toilet, so if my mom or dad needs to use it they wake me up so that I can walk with them.

“It doesn’t feel that safe because there are thieves in the area. “I miss school sometimes because I need to accompany my parents to the clinic or to get their grants. We survive thanks to my mom’s work and the government assistance we receive. Many people feel sorry for us, but I feel proud of my parents. They have overcome many challenges in their lives. Although my father does not work, he never just sits around but always tries to be busy doing things. My mother is working and makes a difference because she is showing people that having a disability doesn’t mean that you can’t have an active life. “Neither of them was born blind; they have had to adapt to a world that has gone dark. I guess I also needed to adapt to my new circumstances. I think our lives would dramatically change if we had better housing, but we always believed in making the best of our situation. “I am a happy person who enjoys using art when I feel

down - which is not often. Art helps me to overcome my negative thoughts. I enjoy singing and writing poems I’ve written poems about my life and it really helps me. It makes me feel brave. I recently performed one of my poems at school and it felt good to finally be seen! “Despite my situation, I am managing at school. I have learned so much about diabetes, health and how to take care of people. My experience with my parents has given me a good idea of what I want to do after high school. I definitely want to study for a degree in the field of human health. “I am convinced that in the darkest moments of your life you can still find the light. The light represents the lessons you learn about not giving up and taking control of the situation you are in. My life and my parents’ lives have taught me this.”

Noxolo is a Leaders’ Quest participant.

ILLUSTRATION: ROBYN PRETORIUS

Steven Arangies

Be a Mentor For Steven Arangies (28) growing up was difficult, violent and a fight for survival. He suffered abuse at the hands of his father and lost his mother due to the actions of the same man before a mentor changed his life.

“We lived in a council house in Brooklyn - my mother, father and four siblings. Money was always tight as my dad was unemployed; I was about six when I realised that my mom was the one who provided for us. She didn’t have a job but she always made a way. She would stand outside a local shop and try to sell pots, sweets or anything to make money. The little she earned was used to care for our big family. My mom had a daughter before marrying my father and she lived with us. My parents had two other children after me: my youngest brother is four years younger and my sister is eleven years my junior. As the eldest, I felt quite protective of my younger siblings. “Growing up, life at home was rough. My dad would hit my mom and us for any reason, and even though I was concerned to leave my siblings behind when I started school, I was happy because I could get out of the house. “Over the weekends my parents would always end up arguing. They used to drink brandy and braai (barbecue). By the end of the evening, my father would pick a fight about anything. He would punch my mom; we felt powerless. I wanted to help and I would try to pull him away, but he would just shove and hit me. “From a young age, I knew that something strange was going on between my father and my half-sister (15) but I was too young to understand what was happening.

Often when I came home from school, my father would be watching naked people on television. He would tell me to take my brother outside, regardless of the weather and only come back when my mom came home. Only my half-sister would be allowed to stay inside. If I asked why he was treating her in a special way, he would throw something at me. “He would also come into our room in the evenings and lay on the top bunk with my half-sister. There would be a lot of movement. I didn’t know what was going on, but my father would show with his finger across his mouth that we must be quiet.

ter was and I said I think she went to the bathroom. Then she looked for my father and couldn’t find him. I remember she went to the bathroom and knocked on the door, asking who was in the bathroom. My dad answered and she shouted that he must open the door but he didn’t. So she forced the door open with the help of someone at the party and inside were my father and my half-sister, both naked.

“I was really young when I was trying to tell my mom that something was happening but I did not know how to explain it. When she would talk to my father to try and understand what I was trying to say, he would hit her.

“My mom freaked out, screaming and crying and everyone left in shock. My brother and I just watched as my mom went to the phone. She said she was calling the police. We had a cordless phone and my father kept telling her to put the phone down. She didn’t, so he smacked her. She fell and bashed her head on the edge of a step and just lay there before my dad put her on their bed. The police came later, but my dad spoke to them and they left.

“Things continued this way for the next few years. When I was 12, my mother turned 30 and we decided to have a party at home. There were fairy lights that made everything look really nice. My mom made platters and put them outside for her friends who came to celebrate with her. My brother and little sister were in a blue plastic pool and I was playing on the ground with some toys.

“The following morning I didn’t see my mom in the kitchen where she would normally be, so I went to the room to look for her. She was lying face down. She felt cold, but I just thought she didn’t sleep with blankets on. I remember looking at her face and knowing that she looked like she was crying. I called her to wake up but she never moved so I went to my brother and told him that mom was not moving.

“My mom had a drink in her hand and she was laughing, enjoying her birthday. She asked me where my half-sis-

“My dad was sitting and crying in the lounge, so I knew something was wrong. I wanted to go back to the room

Shortly after that, the paramedics pulled up. They tried to resuscitate my mom, but she just lay there. I heard them saying that she had died in the early hours of the morning. When the paramedics left, my dad’s friend told us not to tell the cops anything, because if we did my father would go to jail and we would go to an orphanage. My mom lay in her bed for the rest of the day until the mortuary came to fetch her.

to see my mom, but one of my dad’s friends who was a policeman arrived and told me that my mom was asleep and that I should not go to her. “They both went to my mom and when they came out they asked us who knew what had happened the night before. I said I knew but he told me not to tell anyone. Shortly after that, the paramedics pulled up. They tried to resuscitate my mom, but she just lay there. I heard them saying that she had died in the early hours of the morning. When the paramedics left, my dad’s friend told us not to tell the cops anything, because if we did my father would go to jail and we would go to an orphanage. My mom lay in her bed for the rest of the day until the mortuary came to fetch her. “In the time before my mom’s cremation, my dad took us to see his friend at the police station every night. He would ask us the same questions again and again, about what happened to my mom before she died. Whenever I told him that my dad had hit my mom, he would tell me that I couldn’t say that because my dad didn’t do anything and that I was confused. “With my mother gone it was difficult; my father was forced to work so he collected scrap. One day he told us that he was going to work, but he never came back. It was two weeks after my mother died. So it was just me and my two younger siblings at home as my step-sister went to live with my maternal grandmother who was a pensioner. “My baby sister was six months old, I was twelve and my brother was eight. For the first few days we waited

for my dad, we did not go to school. We were eating whatever we had at home until there were only rice and peas, so we ate that too. By the second week, the aunty next door gave us food. She knew what was going on, but said all she could do was give us food. My sister cried all the time and I was crying too because I didn’t know what to do when she cried. It was hectic. Luckily when my mom was alive she showed me how to make my sister’s milk, so I would make her some. “One day, two ladies (social workers) came to our house. They asked me where my dad was and we said we didn’t know. They had a tin of peanuts that they shared with us and put us in a car and drove to my grandmother’s house to fetch my half-sister. It was a long drive, I had never been this far away from home. We first dropped my sisters somewhere and then took my brother and me to a place of safety in Wellington. “I was English-speaking and we needed to write and speak in Afrikaans, so it was very difficult at first. Because we were different ages, my brother and I were split up and put into different parts of the centre. We slept on double bunks and I remember one boy would wet the bed and his pee would drip on my bed. The three years there was difficult, but we had food, nobody hit us and we were looked after so it was better than being at home. My father never came to see us and we only saw my mom’s sister once a month. “My aunt took us in, first me and my brother, then later my baby sister as well. We stayed with her, her husband and their three kids. We were similar in age, so there were fights sometimes but we were treated fairly.

While we lived with them I completed high school but because of my past experiences I became a troubled kid and got involved in some bad stuff. After school my aunt told me to go and work with my uncle at a company in the mechanical lift industry. “While I was working at this company, I became an apprentice to a guy. His name was Mac McKenley and he was working as a sub-contractor. I was his helper and he trained me. He was hard on me but taught me everything about the industry and to a certain extent about the concept of working hard. The greatest thing about our relationship is that he motivated me to ask questions. He made such a difference because he was my first positive male role model. I became interested in developing and growing as a person, so I would use any opportunity the company offered me. When I joined the company I was just a labourer but since then I have been promoted and now manage almost 7 000 lifts within the Western Cape. “My life path has not been smooth; it has had its challenges and still does, but the turning point in my life was when I began working with my mentor. He provided structure and motivated me. One caring adult can make all the difference in the life of a youth. Look out for your mentor and once your life is transformed, you can become a mentor to others.”

Steven is a friend of Salesian Life Choices.

ILLUSTRATION: WILLEM SAMUEL

Siphokazi Saayman

Education Will Set Me Free Of the top 50 most violent urban areas on the planet, Cape Town’s townships Gugulethu and Mitchell’s Plain on the Cape Flats are the worst. Siphokazi Saayman (16) was raised in poverty and lives in this unsafe community but believes education is her path to freedom.

“My dad worked in construction, my mom was a casual domestic worker and when I was five, my sister was born. We lived in a squatter camp in a shack, but I remember having everything I wanted. We were a happy family. “I would often see my father smoking with friends and afterwards all of them would fall asleep. I couldn’t understand, it was only when I grew up I realised they would pass out because of the drugs they were using. “A year after my father stopped using drugs, he became sick and had terrible headaches. He would scream that he couldn’t stand the heat in his head. He would go outside to cool down but would cry like a woman and I would cry with him. “My mom came home from work one day and realised that this couldn’t continue so she took my dad to the hospital. After many, many hours of waiting and time

spent in three health centers - first the local clinic, then the local hospital and lastly the main hospital – my dad was diagnosed with meningitis and stayed in the hospital for the next month. “When my father returned home, things changed. The first time he had a seizure, I was about nine and was alone at home with my dad. I thought he was dying so I ran to call the neighbours. After that, seizures became common; he would have one every time he was hot about once a week. I learned to take off his shoes and put a towel on his mouth when he had a seizure. Each time it happened, I would take care of him but missed school. “My dad has to use prescription medication for the rest of his life, but due to the side-effects sometimes stops taking it - he has strong hallucinations and becomes paranoid. Once he had dreamt that people were trying to shoot me and kept warning me to be careful. When

I was young I almost believed him because he was my father. Another time, he lost his memory and did not recognize any of us. My mom asked him why he had a knife in his pocket and he said it was to kill both of us, so we ran out of the house and called the police. “Over the years, things got worse. My dad is unable to work and the little money he gets from the grant he drinks away. The government gave my mom and dad each a house, so a few years ago my parents decided to stay in separate homes. “My sister and I stay with our mom. My mom’s first child who is 23 - she had him before meeting my dad - came to live with us as well. He was from the Eastern Cape and wanted to study in Cape Town. So there are four of us in the house and my dad visits often to get food. It is difficult for my mom to sustain us with her casual work and it is hard to see her struggling.

Most days we have only bread, sugar and water. When we get mealie meal from my mom’s friends, we mix it with yeast and lemon to make it sour - it is called amageu. We let it ferment for one day and then drink a glass with some sugar. This is our staple food at home; it is our breakfast and often our dinner.

“Most days we have only bread, sugar and water. When we get mealie meal (maize meal) from my mom’s friends we mix it with yeast and lemon to make it sour - it is called amageu. We let it ferment for one day and then drink a glass with some sugar. This is our staple food at home; it is our breakfast and often our dinner. “After one year of studying, my half-brother had to drop out as my mom couldn’t afford it. She told him he needed to stop his studies and find work to assist us. This situation scared me because education is important and I was afraid that I might also not be able to further my studies. I was determined not to have obstacles in my way of getting an education. I have decided that I will not let fear stop me from pursuing my dream to become a pharmacist. Besides pushing myself not to allow my situation at home to overwhelm me, I would also have to overcome the challenges of my surroundings.

“My mom was lucky to be given a house by the government, but we live in a very unsafe area. Crime is all around us, we don’t feel safe even inside our house. Since we have moved to this area, I have seen many dead bodies on the street when walking to school in the mornings. The first time, I saw two bodies of people who had been burned alive. People suspected that they were criminals so they burned them. The last time I saw a dead body it was a guy who was only seventeen. He was bluish but I recognized him. I would see him often walking around in our neighborhood. He died after someone had shot him in the head. “Apart from the murders, we hear the stories about house robberies, and we count the days until it is going to happen to us. In the house or on the street you do not feel safe, they even steal your shoes. They come to you with a gun or knife and ask you if they can borrow your shoes and if you are lucky, they don’t hurt you and you walk home barefoot.

“I have a routine that is important for my safety. I leave home at 07:45 – by this time the streets are busy and there is some light. I run to school as fast as I can because my school starts at 08:00. When I leave school, I always walk back with a group of friends. We try to walk in groups and when we are alone, we walk home fast. Every time I arrive home, I stay inside. When my mom gets back, we lock ourselves in and pray to be safe for the night. “I am determined to overcome challenges and to keep studying. I know education is the only thing that will give me the option to be free, education is the way to change my reality. Choose your way and keep striving, regardless of what comes your way. My motto is to never to give up. Where there is a will, there is a way.”

Siphokazi is a Leaders’ Quest participant.

ILLUSTRATION: HARRIET REMMETTS

Natasha Chigamba

Believing in Who You Truly Are With witchcraft still common in some rural areas in Zimbabwe, thousands of children are beaten, burnt, imprisoned and subjected to exorcism rituals each year. Natasha Chigamba (17) suffered under people who believed she was possessed by demons.

“I was born and raised in Zimbabwe by my mom. We were a close-knit family, living with my maternal uncle and his wife. But my life changed when my mom became ill - I was just seven years old.

“In the morning my aunt said we were going back to my uncle’s house. She didn’t say why we just drove. I wanted to ask what was going on, but I was nervous because she intimidated me.

nice house in the suburbs so it was very different to where I had been staying. Although there were empty rooms, I slept in a small storeroom, on a mattress on the floor. The other rooms were for guests.

“She got sick and lost a lot of weight. I remember her mouth was very dry and she couldn’t move, so she spent most of her time in bed. My uncle and his wife took care of her and I helped as well. I would support her for walks outside when she had energy. I would do anything to make her comfortable. I felt very sad during that time because it wasn’t easy seeing my mother so ill.

“I was looking forward to seeing my mom. When we got to the house my aunt just dropped me off. I saw the furniture outside and my mom’s sister-in-law crying. Nobody told me that my mom had died, they just surrounded me and said that they would support me. It didn’t feel real, it all felt like a dream.

“They were very strict and cold towards me and we didn’t even eat together - very different to the kind of closeness we had had at my uncle’s house. My aunty was a teacher at the primary school I was attending, but I would walk to school while she drove. I was too scared to ask for anything and was grateful to attend school so I didn’t complain.

“My family was poor and they wanted me to live with my grandmother and aunt. I didn’t want to go, but everybody was telling me they had money and that they would send me to school. I wasn’t going to school at home because we couldn’t afford the fees, so the idea of going to school was exciting. “The day that my aunt fetched me was the first time that I met her, so I was nervous and a bit scared. She just took me without saying anything. Just before we left I spoke to my mom. She was in bed. She told me to be a good girl - I didn’t think that it was the last conversation I would have with my mom. A week after we left, my mom passed away.

“Three days later, my mom was buried. I remember we went to view her body and I didn’t recognise her. Her face was different and there was something weird about her skin. I remember one of the people telling me: ‘Whatever God gives you, you should accept it’. “At the burial, my aunt made a speech. She said that my mom must not look back because she was going to take care of me. Hearing her say this made me feel good. Knowing I would have someone to look up to as a mother figure, made the situation easier and I went to live with her. “There were only three of us staying in the house; my aunt, my grandmother (father’s mom) and me. They hardly spoke to me, so I felt like an outsider. It was a

“I was nine the first time my aunt beat me because of my socks. One evening, I washed my school socks but I didn’t hang them up properly, so during the night they fell off the washing line and in the morning they were full of mud stains. I picked them up and shook them off and wore them like that. My aunt asked me why they didn’t look clean, told me to take them off and then beat me with a long rubber tube (sjambok). “Anything became an excuse for my aunt or grandmother to beat me. One day, I accepted a lift to school from one of our neighbours and I was beaten for accepting the lift. It was painful, I felt unworthy and unloved. I had friends but I would distance myself from them because I didn’t want anyone to know what was

When we got to the bottom of the mountain, the church’s prophet had made a red garment for me. It looked like a sack and he told me to sleep in it. I hated wearing it but if I didn’t my aunt would beat me. She said I must wear it to cast out the demons. I was so afraid because I didn’t know why they thought I was a demon child. I did not believe that I had demons in me. I believed that they were making it up.

happening to me at home. I would sit alone looking at the trees and the sky. This helped me feel better during this time, but it could not prepare me for what happened next.

said I must wear it to cast out the demons. I was so afraid because I didn’t know why they thought I was a demon child. I did not believe that I had demons in me. I believed that they were making it up.

“I don’t remember how it started, but one day my aunt and grandmother started talking about my mom saying that she was a gold digger, a snake and that she used witchcraft to kill my father. All I knew about my dad’s death was that he was killed when I was six months old. My mom told me that he was robbed and killed on his way back home from church one night. I loved my mom very much, so hearing that about her broke my heart but I was too scared to tell them to stop.

“One day, my mom’s youngest sister came from South Africa to visit and my life began changing. She was there just for about an hour and I wanted to tell her about the way I was being treated but I was scared. As her taxi was leaving, I remember her saying that I should come and stay with her for the holidays. That made me feel like she wanted me. My aunt gave me hope that my life could be different. I knew that I could not stay with people that thought I was a demon, I would die if I stayed.

“They also said that I was possessed by demons and that my mother’s family had made me that way. They made me fast every day and would sometimes only give me one meal a day. They told me that they were trying to heal me. “During the holidays my grandmother’s church went to pray in the mountains and she took me with them. We walked to the top - just the two of us - I was very scared. The rest of the church stayed at the base of the mountain praying. When we reached the top, she told me to pray, to ask God to save me. I wanted to die so I prayed for God to take me with him. I didn’t know what was happening, I can’t remember how long we were on the mountain but I do remember having to sleep on the ground that night. “When we got to the bottom of the mountain, the church’s prophet had made a red garment for me. It looked like a sack and he told me to sleep in it. I hated wearing it but if I didn’t my aunt would beat me. She

“The next day I told my grandmother that I wanted to stay with my mom’s family, but she said that no one would want me. I told her that if she didn’t let me go, I would run away. Speaking about what I wanted set the ball rolling and change began to happen in my life. “The day after I spoke to my grandmother, she called my aunt and told her that I did not listen, I was a thief and that I was a mischievous child. So my aunty came to our house and fetched me. I took no bags because her intention was just to talk to me. Then we took a taxi back home, to the place where I had lived with my mom. I told her everything, everything that was happening to me. I felt like something heavy had been lifted off my shoulders. I told her what they had said about my mom, that they beat me and that they thought I was a demon child. She was very emotional and hugged me. I felt relieved because she believed me. “When my aunt went to collect my clothes, they told her that they had given all my clothes away because they

were afraid I was going to use them for witchcraft. I wasn’t sad at all - I felt free! I was 11 years old and ready for a new life. My aunt told me that I should not go back, so I went to stay in the house I grew up in. I was happy to be back, there was a closeness there that I missed. “I stayed there for a year finishing Grade 6. On the last day of school, I received my report and my uncle told me I was going to Cape Town to live with my aunt. I knew my aunt very well, because I had lived with her when I was younger, so I was happy. “It took three days to get to my aunt’s house and I kept praying that my aunt wouldn’t treat me badly, but when we got to Cape Town, everyone was happy to see me. I felt so loved, it was like I had found a family again. “It’s been a few years now and today my aunt is like a mother to me and my five cousins - aged between 21 years and a few weeks old - are my siblings. They have all helped me to overcome everything I went through. I am doing well at school and last year I got a school academic award for achieving more than 75% in my Grade 10 final exams. “I have learned many lessons but one that stands out for me is that people will believe what they want to believe about you. There is nothing you can do to change the way they see you. The important thing is not to let their voices change how you perceive yourself. Deep inside, you know who you truly are - a perfect child of God.”

Natasha is a Leaders’ Quest participant.

ILLUSTRATION: ESTHER ENGELBRECHT

Ziyanda Mxhobo

Raising Children Differently Ziyanda Mxhobo (18) has become an advocate for children’s rights. Her life experiences of living in poverty and having no school clothes have given her the wisdom to one day raise her children differently from the way she was raised.

“I was the third-born and was raised by a single mother in Nyanga East, near Cape Town. I shared a father with my sister (23) but my elder brother (35) has a different father. Both dads were absent from our lives. “We lived in my mom’s sister’s house, but she often was sick, so my mom took care of her. She ran a shebeen (drinking place) from home so we could all survive. Our house was a shack with three rooms. One room was the kitchen-living room where my mom sold the drinks, another one was used for the drunk clients to sleep and the third room was our bedroom. I remember being happy. I was too small to understand life. “When I was three my mom and aunt fell pregnant almost at the same time, but my aunt passed away when her baby was three months old. So my mom then had five children at home and had to work hard in the shebeen to sustain us. “When I was four years old, a fire began in a nearby church. People used to cook in the church to feed the community, but they also had a lot of candles for prayer so no one really knows how the fire started but soon it spread to all the shacks nearby. Our home started burning as well and neighbours assisted my mom in saving some furniture, but in the rush forgot me inside where I was sleeping in the third room. At the last minute, my mom counted the children, realized that I was missing and started screaming for me. A neighbour ran inside the burning shack and rescued me. “My uncle helped us to build a one-room shack on land on the other side of Nyanga but this house was not properly made; it was small, cold and it had holes all over. With the family business gone, we were only able to survive thanks to the government grants. My elder

brother moved to stay with his father’s family and my mom managed to pay for all expenses at home through the three child grants she received. “When I was five my grandmother passed away in the Eastern Cape and in our traditional culture it was compulsory for my mother to go to the funeral. Unfortunately, she did not have the money to pay the bus fare for the whole family, so she asked a friend to look after us and took only my younger brother with her. “I stayed behind with my sister (10) and my cousin (2). My mom’s friend was dating the next-door neighbour so my mom thought she was the right person to take care of us. But she often left us alone to be with her boyfriend. A few days later they had a big fight – we could hear their screams – she left and never came back. I remember it was winter and it rained all night. The following morning we woke up and our home was flooded. The three of us spent all day sitting on top of the bed waiting for someone to come and rescue us. The next day some neighbours forced their way in, accompanied by a social worker who took us to a children’s home where we stayed for a few months. “I hated the place. We were sleeping in one room with many other children, a lot of them sick. The food was terrible and if you did not eat they would hit you. They were not nice and I missed my mom every day. “In the meantime, my mom was fighting to regain custody us and after three months we were allowed to go home but my cousin was left behind. The state refused to give my cousin to my mom even after she fought for years. I was so happy to see my mom, but we never saw our cousin again.

“Life at home was not easy. My mom always tried to make sure we had something to eat, but on most days we did not have food and we went to bed on an empty stomach. It was hard but I did not mind because at least we were all together. “When I was old enough to start school, my mother couldn’t afford to send more than one child, so I started primary school when I was nine years old. My mom could not afford school fees for all the children, so I had to wait. I understood the reason, so I did not ask or complain. My sister used to go to school and I would stay home with my younger brother and wait for her to return. “I was so happy the day I could finally go to school. I was much older than my peers but because I was short I fitted in with them. The teachers were nice and friendly and I loved to study and play with my friends. My sister moved to live with a cousin because my mom could not sustain all of us, so that gave me a chance. My mom finally got a job sweeping the streets for the city council and things improved, but the job was on a contract basis so it finished after a few months. “When I was 13 years old, I met my father for the first time. “He came to our house and he was talking to my mom when I arrived. He looked at me in a strange way, he just stared. My mom told me to sit down and said, ‘This is your father.’ I had so many questions going around in my head, but I did not ask any. He asked me how old I was and which grade I attended and then left. “After a few weeks, he came back with a top and a pair of jeans for me. I felt so proud and happy. This was the first thing I had received from my father. I suppose deep inside I secretly wished to have a father.

When I told my mom, she felt so bad that she borrowed money from the loan sharks to buy me a shirt. The money she used to repay the loan the following month was our food money. It was a difficult month for the family, but I was so proud of my shirt and the fact that someone who loves me had given everything to wipe the tears off my face. I owe everything to my mom.

“He never came back to the house again, but I realised he had always been around. Almost every day I would pass by him on the street. If he was with friends he would point to me and say, ‘This is one of my children’ but when he was alone he would just nod. I always kept walking, repeating to myself ‘He is not my father’. Once my mom told me that we could fight in court to force him to pay for maintenance, but I told her I did not want anything to do with him, I didn’t even want his money. “My mom taught me that even when things are bad to keep smiling. She does the same – I know when she is stressed but she always looks at me and smiles. “Things at home did not improve financially. When I was in Grade 8 the uniform that I had used since Grade 6 was too small - my skirt and shirt could not close anymore. I used a piece of stocking to hold my skirt and two clips from a hanger to close my shirt. I would wear my jersey over my shirt and skirt to go to school so no one would notice. “My worst nightmare was hot days. One of my teachers would always say, ‘class, take your jerseys off.’ I would continue as if I had not heard him and he would say, ‘Ziyanda, what is wrong with you?’ I would say I had a fever and force myself to cough. The class would laugh and he would say, ‘You are such a cheeky child’ and he would leave me alone and continue with the class. “I was so desperate that I decided to ask for assistance from my father for the first time in my life. I went to his house. In my mind, I thought that a few years before he had given me a shirt and a pair of jeans without me asking, so maybe now he would say yes because I was asking for help for a school shirt. My father promised that he would take me shopping the next Monday. He told me I should not go to school and he would come and pick me up and buy a school uniform for me.

“I was so excited. I ran home and told my mom. I took my clothes off and I ripped my shirt apart in small pieces and threw it in the bin. I kept my jersey because I loved it. I was so happy all weekend, but when Monday arrived I waited and waited and he never came. I called him on his cell phone and asked where he was and he told me he was out of town. I did not say anything, I just put the phone down and cried. “The next day I wore my church shirt under my school jersey and went to school. As soon as I arrived in class my teacher asked me where I had been, so I stood up and said that there was a very vicious dog in my road, whose name is Peaches and over the weekend he ate my school shirt, so I could not come to school the previous day. The class couldn’t stop laughing about the story, but inside I knew I preferred them to laugh about the Peaches story rather than knowing what had really happened. “I only told my best friend the truth because I felt bad. I loved Peaches and he was my friend, so I told her that it was my dad’s fault and not the dog’s. Later that day we were walking home when my friend pointed to the bus stop and asked me, ‘Is that not your dad?’ I looked and there he was, dressed in new clothes from top to bottom. I felt so embarrassed that he had treated me as a fool and I had fallen for it. I ran home crying. “When I told my mom, she felt so bad that she borrowed money from the loan sharks to buy me a shirt. The money she used to repay the loan the following month was our food money. It was a difficult month for the family, but I was so proud of my shirt and the fact that someone who loves me had given everything to wipe the tears off my face. I owe everything to my mom. That month we survived by eating a lot during the day at the school-feeding scheme. I also asked my friends to lend me R1 per day to buy chips, and gave them to

my brother in the evening – boys are always hungry! “My mom finally found a more permanent job as a cleaner in Gugulethu Mall. I was so happy that things had improved at home. My mom tried her best to fulfill the role of a mother and a father. I know she is the one I can count on. “I have decided to use my mom’s clan name as my own, against Xhosa tradition. I feel that people like my father have put his clan name (Mqwathi) to shame. My father plants everywhere he goes – he has many children all over the place but does not take proper care of any of them. “When I finish school, I want to study social work. I would like to be involved in changing South Africa. I am passionate about helping children in need. I know what it means to grow up without food and a school uniform and feeling inferior because you do not have what others have. I wish to be able to give a smile to other children the same way my mom did for me. “People should think very carefully about having kids. Only when you can afford to give them a good life with a lot of love should you consider starting your own family. Children have basic needs – physical and emotional – and it is the responsibility of their parents to fulfill those needs. We can’t continue treating children as we do in South Africa. I would like to urge people of my age to stop this vicious cycle. We, too, have the responsibility to choose to one day raise our children differently from the way we have been raised.”

Ziyanda is a Leaders’ Quest participant.

ILLUSTRATION: SADE HICKMAN

Queen Gum

A Lesson in Love Having a baby at a young age is challenging, but when that baby is diagnosed with cerebral palsy it is even harder. Nosphiwo Queen Gum (27) gives encouragement to South Africans and teaches us that no matter what challenges we are faced with, we do have the strength to overcome them.

“I was born in Cape Town and raised in Gugulethu. I’m the only child from my mom and dad and I had four step-siblings from my mom’s previous marriage. “We lived in a hostel where my mother, father and me shared a room. My mom was a domestic worker and my father unemployed. Growing up my mother and other relatives told me I was my father’s queen. I was the only child he had and according to everyone who knew my father we had a very special bond. I was very young when he passed away, still a baby. My mother told me that he was stabbed during a fight. I don’t have many memories of him but I can picture him walking into the hostel and calling my name. “My mother told me after my father’s death, my paternal grandmother immediately came to Cape Town with my aunts to fetch me so that I could live with them in the Eastern Cape. She said that there was some tension because she didn’t want to let me go, but she felt she didn’t have a choice in the matter. “I was very young, I think about five years old when I moved there. My first memory of the Eastern Cape was my grandmother. I immediately became her child. I had four aunts, they each had three to four kids, so there were many children around. The family had a rondavel (traditional circular dwelling) and a four corner (a structure made of mud with a grass reed roof). The older male cousins were in the rondavel, and the females with my grandmother and aunts were in the four corner. In our structure there was only one bed, my grandmother

would take it and the rest of us would sleep on the floor. We didn’t have a lot (some of my aunts and my mother would send money), most of the food we ate was stiff pap and sugar water. We would cook outside and had no bathroom, the bush was our toilet. “I remember thinking we were one of the poorest families because there were many families around us who had a lot more. This was especially obvious during Christmas when the other children would dress up but we would wear dusty navy tights. “I started school when I was about eight years old. The school was far from our home. I remember needing to walk through the mountains without shoes. The winter months were the worst because the frost on the grass would hurt our feet. We needed to be up at 05:00 and leave by 06:30, then started walking because it took about 40 minutes to get to school. We would always walk in groups. “I was a bright student, I was always placed second in class. But it was not easy to be at school because during break time, while the other kids were eating, my cousins and I had nothing. We would try and make each other laugh to forget about hungry tummies. Our difficulties brought us together – that was our normal. I remember we had a few fruit trees and we would pick the fruit even when they were not ripe yet. “When I turned nine, my grandmother became very ill. She would throw up often and was unable to help

herself, so we all needed to help her. But, soon after I was moved to my grandmother’s sister not far from where I was living. I was confused about why I had to move, nothing was explained to me. “I had a cousin who lived there, we were about the same age, but he went to school and for some reason, I was stopped from going too. Early mornings he would wake up to go to school and I woke up to herd the cattle. I missed school, but I don’t remember feeling sad because I enjoyed being in the fields. I was the only girl herding cattle so I felt unique. “I stayed there for two years and when my grandmother passed away I moved back to Cape Town. I met my mother at my grandmother’s funeral, I did not know who she was because I hadn’t seen her in years. She introduced herself, I was excited because she said she would be taking me to Cape Town. “My mom worked as a live-in domestic worker and I would see her on weekends only. My older sisters, aged 22 and 25, would take care of me. Adapting to life with my sisters was not easy and going back to school was also challenging. The way things were done at my new school was very different to back in the Eastern Cape, but I managed to adapt. “In high school, I met my first boyfriend. I was in Grade 8 and he followed me around and wanted to talk to me. I was cautious because my mother always told me to stay away from boys. But, eventually one day I was

A few days before, I could sense her slipping away. I prayed, and after reasoning with myself over and over again, I released her. I was by her side when she died. To love is to let go. That night was stormy and I knew an angel had left this world. walking home and he walked with me. He told me he loved me and asked me out. I told him to wait and I will get back to him. After thinking about it and talking to my friends I decided to say yes.

a long list of tests. They told us that she had cerebral palsy and that her case was severe. They said she wouldn’t be able to walk or talk and would need lots of care and that sadly she wouldn’t live for very long.

“Two years after we became a couple, I fell pregnant. At first, I was in denial, but one day as I was going to take a bath my mother told me to undress. She then felt my tummy and pressed my breast and milk came out. I was shocked… that day I knew I was pregnant. She wasn’t angry, she just said that we needed to go to the clinic.

“After the diagnosis, Simamkele was in and out of the hospital, spending three to six months there at a time. When she turned one it was a milestone for the family. The doctors had told us that she would not reach the age of one and that if she did, she would be eligible for an operation that would help her stay nourished by placing a feeding tube in her stomach as eating and swallowing caused a lot of chest infections. Following the operation, she spent two days in the high care unit. When she was transferred to the ward, I had to be trained how to feed her with the tube. When I saw the tube in the hole of her stomach, I felt ill and heartbroken because my child had to go through this.

“At the clinic, I was told I was six and a half months pregnant. On the way, my mom asked me how I was feeling. I remember us both crying. It was a very scary time for us. “I did not have much time to prepare myself mentally for motherhood because I gave birth at seven and a half months to a beautiful baby girl I named Simamkele, which means acceptance. “Giving birth was a very long process. I went into labour on a Saturday then gave birth on a Sunday, but the moment they put her on my chest was so special. She looked so beautiful. “She spent a month in the hospital because she had jaundice. After taking her home, I noticed my baby would often go into spasms. She would clench her fist and curl her whole body. It would happen every day and when my mother came home on a Friday, we took her to the hospital. They wanted to see the spasms, and because she did not have them then, they kept sending us back home. This lasted for close to three months. We would take her to other clinics because we weren’t getting answers, but they kept giving her medicine for colic. By the time she was three months old she had spasms three to four times a day. One day the spasms lasted very long, so the hospital sent us to Red Cross Children’s Hospital. They took her in for testing. Seeing her being prodded with needles and surrounded by doctors was overwhelming. “I think the only way I got through this time was with the support of my mother. Simamkele stayed in the Red Cross Children’s Hospital for a full month going through

“Understanding how to use the tube was simple to learn, I immediately grasped the idea. I even had to teach the nurses from time to time because they didn’t know how. My mother took some time to get used to it. Sometimes when Simamkele was with my mom the tube would come out of her stomach. At times like this, I had to rush home from school because if the hole is left exposed it will close very quickly and that would mean another operation for my angel. “During that time I broke up with my boyfriend. I felt he was not active in his child’s life, he didn’t know anything about her disability and he never tried to find out more. I think it scared him to the point where he froze. I needed to let him go so that I could be there for my daughter. “I dropped out of school to care for my daughter fulltime. It was my responsibility and I became very protective. Although she was in and out of the hospital that year, we got her into a routine. My sister had also given birth a week after me, so we were raising our children together. She was older than me and it was her second child so she guided me through the process. “My mom wanted me to complete Grade 12, so she spoke to her boss and asked if Simamkele – at the time two years old – could stay with her during the week. Weekends I cared for her.

“Luckily my mom’s boss said it was okay. Soon after Simamkele and I moved to my mother’s workplace in Seapoint. In the following months, I went back to school. I was 18 and in Grade 9 but the age gap didn’t matter to me because I wanted an education. Many people helped me to do that. The saying ‘it takes a village to raise a child’ is so true. You need support and I told myself I wasn’t going to fail. On days when Simamkele spent time at the hospital, I was there at night and would go to school in the morning. When I returned to my daughter’s side I would study in the bathrooms where there was light. I got used to that life and I successfully finished high school. “They only way I got through school was with the support of my teachers, family, friends and the church. I became very protective of my daughter. I didn’t want her to be judged for her disabilities because I just saw her as any other child. We would play together, talk, laugh and even get irritated. She was my best friend. “Long hospital visits and illness were a continual part of my life. After nine years, Simamkele passed away. I always knew that one day the time would come. A few days before, I could sense her slipping away. I prayed, and after reasoning with myself over and over again, I released her. I was by her side when she died. To love is to let go. That night was stormy and I knew an angel had left this world. “It has been a difficult journey to get used to her not being there, but I now work as a counsellor, passing on my experience and strength to other youth in Cape Town. My job is the best job in the world because I am living my purpose. I believe my calling is to serve others. “No matter what challenge I face, I live by a key piece of advice that I often share with the youths I work with: ‘Don’t be a victim of your circumstances. Try to be a victor and take it one step at a time’.”

Queen is a staff member of Salesian Life Choices.

ILLUSTRATION: MAGGI BEST

Artist Biographies

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DIEK GROBLER obtained a BA Fine Arts degree from the University of Pretoria in 1987 and his Master’s Degree in Fine Arts from the University of the Witwatersrand in 1996. He has exhibited professionally since 1988 and his work are included in several major public and corporate collections in South Africa. Diek’s art practice covers a variety of media and disciplines. He has illustrated various children’s books, and has directed and produced several short animated films. In a career spanning 30 years, Diek has presented more than 15 solo exhibitions and has participated extensively in group exhibitions on national and international level. His animated films, for which he has received 4 international awards, has been included in more than 40 international animation festivals.

ANWAR DAVIDS was born on the Cape Flats and works for eTV as a graphic designer. Since an early age, he’s found art interesting and felt the need to express himself visually. His fascination with graffiti lead him to study graphic design. At the Cape College he was influenced by cubism, surrealism and pop art and he likes experimenting with different styles. Past experiences and current affairs have a major influence on his illustrations. Anwar says he feels privileged to be part of the Cape Town Youth Book. “When I saw what Salesian Life Choices’ project was about, I was inspired to do justice to the subject. These young people are the next generation that’s going to come and lead us one day. To see where they come from and where they are now, that’s amazing,” he says.

LARISSA MWANYAMA is a 20-year-old student at the University of Cape Town’s prestigious Michaelis School of Fine Arts. Larissa’s family is originally from Malawi, but she was born in Pietermaritzburg. Her family has always encouraged her artistic ability. When she was in Grade 2 her teacher told her father that her drawings were much better than the other children’s work. “I understood certain things about drawing than that the other kids did not,” Larissa says. She enjoys drawing, sketching and sculpting and she loves print media, one of her majors. She plans to do an additional degree in curatorship and to get qualifications in business management, interior and textile design. Larissa dreams of illustrating books, especially for children of colour who are not represented in mainstream media.

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POGISO (PJAY) MOTUBATSI i s a 34-year old selftrained artists from Potchefstroom who currently works at Impala Platinum mine in Rustenburg. Apart from his amazing skill as an illustrator, he is a very talented cartoonist and an aspiring animator. PJay started drawing when he was 10 years old. He looks at international artists and trends for inspiration and dreams of getting an opportunity to study art and graphic design at a first rate art school. PJay’s cartoons have been published in a local newspaper in Potchefstroom, the NorthWest Independent and he won first prize in the North West Art Competition and an award from the Tlokwe Municipality in 2016. He has also exhibited his work at the p restigious lifestyle, décor and art exhibition, Decorex, in Cape Town.

FRANK LUNAR is a graphic designer specialising in illustration. His work centres around socio-political and esoteric concepts. He attained his national diploma in graphic design in 2008 from Cape Peninsula University of Technology. Frank lives in Woodstock, Cape Town, where he works from home creating children’s books, comic books, story boards and occasionally gives drawing lessons. Other freelance work includes social media marketing (content and imagery), blog writing and corporate identities. Frank has worked on a project called White Curtains: Seapoint’s first colouring book for all ages and he has been busy with a series consisting of five pictures called Sulfur. When he’s not painting, Frank is part of the experimental ensemble called Morning Pages.

CLINT WHITE (“Boldpants”) and SCOTT ERIC WILLIAMS (“Scotty”) are a collaborative artistic duo from Cape Town. Clint is creative director, entrepreneur and founder of 7 Steps Hub, a non-profit organisation aimed at providing skills and creative development to youth from marginalised communities through art programmes. The programmes have a strong focus on upliftment, creative education and building self-esteem. Clint has delivered n umerous workshops on creativity and innovation. Scott is a self-taught artist from Cape Town who uses diverse media, ranging from sculpture with recycled materials and weaving to illustration and street art. Having experienced a nomadic existence for most of his life, Scott is moved to proactively contribute to a multifaceted image of African identity.

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SIKELELA DAMANE was born in Gugulethu, Cape Town and he has participated in group exhibitions in South Africa and internationally. The 26-year-old received a BA Fine Arts from the University of Fort Hare in 2015 and attended the Market Photo Workshop in the same year. Sikelela participated in a workshop at Emthonjeni Artist residency as well as at the Hamburg Artists’ Retreat as part of the Arts and Ubuntu Trust. He also took part in the 2016 OPENLab artist residency, exploring interdisciplinary practices in Bloemfontein and Richmond. Sikelela considers art a weapon for social change and his work reflects on social, economic and political ideas. He uses contemporary and historical references to make statements in his art, using m aterials such as acrylic, oils, aerosol and paper.

XOLANNIE SIVUNDA from Mfuleni, Cape Town, is a former mine worker who now paints full-time. It all started back in Mthatha in the Eastern Cape when he was about eight years old. “My mom used to make fires outside. So I picked up the charcoal afterwards and just started to draw.” Now 32, Xolannie says that he would also draw on the old skins of the sheep his father slaughtered. When Xolannie’s father died, he went to Johannesburg to work in the mines. “After working in the mines for a long time, I realised something was missing from my life. I felt so empty without art.” While staying in Johannesburg, Xolannie did a short course in the fundamentals of graphic design at City Varsity. His paintings have been exhibed in the Art.b Gallery in Bellville.

ANDREW MOKGATLA is originally from B loemfontein but now calls Muizenberg home. He holds a fine arts diploma from the Central University of Technology in the Free State and is a versatile artist, teacher and freelance illustrator. Specializing in pen, pencil and paint, he prefers portraits as his subjects. Andrew is interested in telling stories about real people through his art. His inspiration comes from everyday situations and his immediate environment. Andrew is passionate about supporting youth in South Africa to rise above their circumstances through perseverance and creative solutions. He is very excited about his involvement in the Cape Town Youth Book. “At the NGO where I work we also try to uplift people and make them aware of the opportunities available to young people,” he says.

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Originally from Johannesburg SAMANTHA RALL studied architecture at the University of Cape Town. She graduated in 2015 before moving on to Red & Yellow School to study for a degree in visual communication. She lives in Claremont and she’s passionate about design, animals and nature. She has never exhibited her art and she dreams of a career as a graphic designer or illustrator. Samantha says her art is largely about exploring and learning while she develops her own style. “I will literally sit down and try to copy what other artists do to understand their techniques and see how they work and then try to develop my own way of using these mediums. My art is still very experimental.” Samantha loves drawing, painting and photography and her works of art often feature animals and plants.

RAMONA SOGA is a full-time community worker in Darling who makes art for extra income. After reaching a low point in her life in 2013, the 33-year-old single mother began painting her way to recovery. Ramona lives with her parents – her father is also an artist and her mother is a home-based carer for the elderly. Her art is a way of speaking about things people don’t want to acknowledge, says Ramona. “Like the inner struggles people have, or the facade people project to the world. Also issues such as poverty, discrimination and judgment we tend to ignore. I believe every person is unique and has a story to tell. When I walk around I study people and from there I plan my next artwork.” Ramona has recently presented visual art workshops to a group of Dutch students.

LIZANNE SMIT grew up on a farm near Baardskeerdersbos in the Overberg and currently lives in Pinelands. The 29-year-old has been interested in art since a very young age, especially painting, and she took painting as a subject in high school. She then studied graphic design at the Cape Peninsula of Technology where her interest in illustration was sparked. She now works as a graphic designer at GetSmarter, a Cape Town-based company that offers online short courses from leading universities across the world. Her work involves doing instructional design, mainly in the form of digital illustrations, as part of the course materials. Lizanne is also interested in one day doing painting full- time rather than just a hobby. She enjoys painting people and wild animals.

Artist Biographies

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ORLI SETTON is a South African designer and illustrator with a passion for people, design for social change and innovation. She currently works as a freelance graphic designer supporting the work done by social change organizations such as Doctors without Borders, Reclaim the City and Wordworks to name but a few. She studied graphic design at the Cape Peninsula University of Technology and has just finished her Master’s degree in Inclusive Innovation from the University of Cape Town’s G raduate School of Business on the Mandela Rhodes Scholarship. Her academic achievements are all the more remarkable given that she has dyslexia and struggles with language. “I have always turned to art and design as a way to communicate and express myself.”

ROBYN PRETORIUS is a 29-year-old photo-realistic artist from Belhar in Cape Town. She was exposed to art at a young age and started going to Tygerberg Art Centre when she was in Grade 2. She became an illustrator at the age of 13 and as a teenager, was given the opportunity to showcase her artwork at Gilmore Art Gallery. In 2014 she went to New York to showcase her paintings at an event organised by the New York Trade Mission in association with the South A frican government’s Department of Trade and Industry. She now creates privatly commissioned paintings and freelances as an illustrator for various companies. Robyn is passionate about youth from marginalised communities. “I know how difficult it is for these youths to break through a particular mindset.”

WILLEM SAMUEL is a multimedia artist from Cape Town with 10 years industry experience in animation, storyboarding and comic books. The 33-yearold studied BA Fine Arts at Stellenbosch University from 2002 to 2005 and is best known for his critically appraised graphic novel Mengelmoes which was published in the UK in 2016. Over the years he has been producing a constant flow of comics and illustrations while performing and releasing music alongside regular exhibits of his drawing and paintings. Willem says illustrating the story for this book was an emotional experience. “What I didn’t want to do was to make it sentimental or to sweeten it.” Willem also writes and records music, while learning how to create animated videos on the side.

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HARRIET REMMETTS from Wellington has been painting for most of her life, but in her youth, her parents discouraged her from pursuing a career in art. After school, she completed a secretarial course and she also did a course in dress designing. Harriet only started painting professionally in 2006. She first exhibited her work in and around Wellington and she was an in-house artist at the Breytenbach Centre in Wellington for two years. She now exhibits regularly around Cape Town and she recently attended a two-week- long workshop in Nyanga with other artists. Harriet works in acrylics, oils, ink, watercolour, tissue paper, cloth and mixed media on collages. “Art can change people. It can change the lives of abused people, people with disabilities, young people. Art is wonderful,” she says.

ESTHER ENGELBRECHT is a vibrant and passionate art teacher from White River, Mpumalanga. She studied art history and English and has been working with children creatively for over 20 years. As a versatile non-commercial artist, she explores unusual mediums. World music, colour and great stories inspire her. Her interest in beauty, expression and obscure facts is insatiable. She is a colourist at heart and strongly believes in the responsibility of an artist to not only reflect on the world, but to also contribute meaningfully through his or her work. The healing power of art is key to her. Esther believes that creativity contains a spark of godliness. “I felt a deep connection with Natasha from the word go. It was a humbling and fulfilling experience to become part of her story through my art.”

SADE HICKMAN is a Cape Town-based art director and designer with experience in many fields. Proficient with web design, branding, general design and a dvertising, her creative skills include pencil illustrations and web design. Sade’s work ranges from colourful depictions of animals to black-and-white portraits, but the common thread in all of them is realism. Sade is influenced by her maternal grandparents who were both artists, who trained her in traditional methods such as clay sculpting, drawing, painting and collage. In 2014, while still a student at the Stellenbosch Academy of Design and Photography, Hickman won a Loerie Award for an outdoor advertisement. Art plays a defining role in her life, Sade says. “I’m completely sure I would lose my mind if I wasn’t able to create art.”

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MAGGI BEST from Rondebosch in Cape Town describes herself as a “home executive”. She trained as a primary school teacher, and after marrying she stayed at home with her two children. She has always been interested in drawing and painting and over the years her work has been included in several exhibitions. Maggi was deeply touched by the story she was asked to illustrate. “I’m overwhelmed by the love, character and perseverance of Queen Gum. I was inspired by Queen’s own words describing her daughter’s death: “That night was stormy; I knew an angel had left this world.” In a sense she could relate to Queen, Maggi says. “I lost my husband two years ago. We’d been married 40 years and it’s really difficult to rearrange your life after a loss like that.”

JUDY CONWAY was born in Maryland in America and lived in Kenya, Japan and England before settling down in Hout Bay in 1998 with her husband. Judy is a keen gardener and in Kenia she designed gardens for private clients as well as furniture for a large manufacturing company. She also created items for the tourist trade. Judy made inventory from wooden, metal and cloth objects obtained from dressmakers. She began making collages in Nairobi, using a Japanese technique she had learnt many years earlier. Her collages are intimate pieces of fabric mixed with different paint mediums to create bold new imagery. She creates art in response to everyday experiences. “I make images in response to materials that I come into contact with daily or that I have collected,” says Judy.

JILL TRAPPLER has been working in Cape Town as a visual artist, craftsperson, teacher and project coordinator for 35 years. Some of the projects and initiatives she’s been involved in include the AVA Gallery, Philani clinics, Greatmore Studios, Thupelo workshops and Valkenburg art studio. Jill rents space to teach in or work through institutions like the University of Cape Town and Ruth Prowse School of Art. As a professional artist, she has exhibited locally and abroad and Jill has attended workshops in Africa and abroad. Her practice is studio-based and she works mostly in paint, although she says her experience as a weaver has informed her art and given it a “deep textural element”. Jill served on the Board of the Ava Gallery and the National Arts Council of South Africa.

WRITER

EDITOR AND WRITER (stories pp. 16, 20, 28, 36, 52, 60, 76, 84)

PHOTOGRAPHER

NURAHN RYKLIEF did twelve of the interviews with the youth who feature in this book. She is a freelance writer for Salesian Life Choices and started focusing more on writing for non-profit organisations after having worked as a reporter for Independent Newspapers, Kfm, Bush Radio and News24. She also works for anti-violence campaigns. Being a Capetonian motivates her to write about social injustice and to highlight the inequality that still exists in communities, Nurahn says. “The 30 Stories in 30 Days Youth Month project is very rewarding because the stories show the resilience of young people. These stories will not only inspire other young people, but it is a vital tool for change showing that funding is still needed for educational, social and health problems affecting the youth.”

SOFIA NEVES wrote eight of the stories in the book and edited the remaining ones. Sofia is the Managing Director of Salesian Life Choices. In 2005, she helped the Salesians to establish this dynamic organisation for Cape Town youth. She holds an Honours degree in Animal Science and a Master’s degree in Marketing and Communication with Rome Business School. She created the 30 Stories in 30 Days concept in 2014. Her lack of experience in the media world did not deter her from believing that yuong people deserved to have their stories documented. Since day one, her limited writing technique has been compensated for her levels of empathy for the storytellers. To date, 120 stories have been written; Sofia has edited all of them and has been the author of 36 of these touching stories.

Photographer PETER HARPER took all the portraits for the Cape Town Youth Book. Peter was born in District Six and after concluding his fine art studies in Cape Town in 1993, he completed an apprenticeship in the advertising industry as an art director’s assistant. The move to Johannesburg a year later gave him the opportunity to work on blue chip accounts at some of South Africa’s leading advertising agencies such as JWT, Grey, Y&R and Leo Burnett. In 2001 Peter moved to New York and embarked on a Diploma in Advanced Filmmaking at the prestigious New York Film Academy. Since working in challenging markets for agencies in America, Mauritius, London and South Africa Peter has found his creative groove with Peter Harper Productions, which he launched in 2003.