BUILDING AND HEALING A COMMUNITY - A DELFT STORY

“

The time for healing of the wounds has come.

�

The moment to bridge the chasm that divides us has come.

The time to build is upon us.

Nelson Mandela during his Inauguration as President of South Africa Union Buildings, Pretoria, South Africa, 10 May 1994

Foreword I wish to honour each of the five brave mothers who have shared their stories with all of us who are willing to read.

Each of the women have spoken very openly about their lives in what often seemed like an emotional roller coaster Each of these stories is unique and yet there is much commonality.

There is a great deal of pain that permeates each of the stories. To read the stories is to be acutely aware of the role of gender violence that women suffer and endure at the hands of men. Also we witness the destructive power of alcohol and drugs for individuals and communities Of course as well as too much pain the five women each have a great deal of resilience.

The stories bear witness to the possibility of healing and transformation after long years of multiple woundedness.

Sadia Davidson speaks beautifully about what she gained from a healing of memories workshop. “....we respectfully listened to every story. I thought my story was so heavy but then they told me what they went through and what they achieved. It gave me courage to tell my story. Its amazing ; they did not give me any advice. I just felt that a heavy weight was off my shoulder. I never used to tell others how I felt. This taught me how to open up...

It changed me as a person” In the healing of memories process people become healers of one another.

Each of the stories illustrates that healing is not an end in itself. As people become healed they become freed to reach out in compassion to others and work for the transformation of their communities.

The title of Nolene Botsheleng’s story: “I am Nolene not just for myself but for the world” As Nolene also says: Expressing and sharing my pain has helped me a lot in dealing with my own hurt and painful memories.” This is what I would call detoxification - getting out the poison from our hearts.

Nolene tells us that “with the Healing of Memories workshop, I also learnt to listen and to talk, to share pain and feel with other people.Now I want to be a role model for children. I see it as my purpose to encourage other women to take a stand for themselves, saying that enough is enough. You dont have to accept being treated without dignity....My vision is to see the women and children of my community empowered”

As Nolene tells us: At the healing of memories, I learnt that you cannot forget what happened but you can still forgive” ...and then she continues “I am still struggling with how to forgive my dad...” Nolene reminds us of what is true for most people that forgiveness is not something simple, cheap and easy but a costly, painful and difficult journey.

The title of Nthabiseng Mohobo’s story is striking: “I never thought I had a story. A significant part of healing is the discovery that I am somebody - that I do have a story and that it is as important as everyone else’s story.

Since our formation as a parallel process to the Truth and Reconciliation Commission, the Institute has been interested in the relationship between the nation and its history and individuals. Several of the stories illustrate how drug infested communities damage individuals. Nthabiseng makes explicit the relationship between political and economic oppression of all black people under apartheid and her own life.

A number of the stories are also about intergenerational trauma. The healing which each of our brave mothers have experienced speaks to breaking the chain that turns victims into victimisers.

As an Institute we have always believed in partnership with other organisations that share our values and our outlook.

Julitha Dorman embodies such a partnership as she is Founder and Project Manager of Sakha Isizwe as well as a facilitator for the Institute.

Partnerships remind us also that none of us by ourselves have all the answers. In partnership with the community and other organisations we can make our modest contributions to supporting flourishing and compassionate communities.

Most wonderful of all is to see a group of wounded healers becoming role models and signs of hope for Delft and as Nolene says “... for the world”.

Father. Michael Lapsley SSM Director: Institute for the Healing of Memories

Acknowledgements

The Institute for the Healing of Memories would like to acknowledge the exemplary work done by our Partner Sakha Isizwe under the leadership of Julita Dorman. The home visitors Rouwayda Baker, Naziema Madatt, Tazneem Madatt, Shahieda Safter, Janine Louw, Susan Bothman, Carmen Saaimen, Esme Simonse, Nthabiseng Mohobo, Delicia Weers, Sadia Davidson, Morica Williams, Akhona Konana, Zukhanye Zenzile, Nolene Botsholeng, Mvulakazi Ndiki and Melony Lindt who are tireless in their efforts to support the families they serve. Their commitment and passion to make a difference in the Delft community, is inspiring.

Thank you to Naziema, Shahieda, Nthabiseng, Sadia and Nolene for agreeing to have their stories told. To Esther Nzimande for doing the interviews and writing the stories with sensitivity, taking time to getting to know the people the place and the work.

The Healing of Memories workshop facilitators Patricia Adams, Julita Dorman, Jacinta Banon, Juanita Muguni, Randall Bester, Madoda Gwcadi, Mercy Maura, Thobeka Macozoma, Bisisiwe Busi, Ingrid van Dyck, Lameez Hendrick, Louise Penita and Thandikhaya Ncosani who deliver healing of memories workshops to Communities, with great care, compassion and professionalism. Creating a safe space for participants to tell their stories, connect with their most inner self and move forward with their lives, is “Healing of Memories”.

To the Healing of Memories workshop organiser Loret Loumouamou for her unwavering support and guidance to the facilitating team, in ensuring each healing of memory workshop is carried out to the best standard possible.

The Youth Art Development Co-operative (YARD) and Graeme Arendse for the graphics, design and layout. Avra Richen for her stringent editing.

Clearly this timeous publication is a wonderful collaboration and a collective effort. However, it was brilliantly inspired and brought into creation by Fatima Swartz, IHOM’s Programmes Manager, who very ably and creatively manages all the Programmes and programme staff of the Institute for Healing of Memories.

The Institute for Healing of Memories strives to be a leading agent of hope, transformation and peace by empowering individuals, communities and nations through healing of memories of workshops and targeted activities that empower individuals, communities and nations by: • Remembering the past injustices- ancient, old, recent - and healing our multiple • woundedness; • Redeeming the past through prevention, empowerment and rehabilitation/healing by celebrating that which is life giving and laying to rest that which is destructive; • Working together with others who share our vision.

We believe All Humans;•• are spiritual beings of infinite worth •• share responsibility for the past, therefore are responsible for dealing with it •• are capable of being both victim and victimizer •• should face history and face themselves.

ISBN: 978-0-620-62425-1 Institute for Healing of Memories P O Box 36069, Glosderry 7702, Cape Town, SA 5 Eastry Road, Claremont 7708, Cape Town, SA Email: info@healingofmemories.co.za Tel: +27 21 683 6231/35 Fax: +27 21 683 5747 Website: www.healing-memories.org A Healing of Memories publication Compiled by: Fatima Swartz Copy Editor: Avra Richen Design, layout and artwork: Graeme Arendse (Youth Arts Development co-operative)

CONTENTS Introduction Chapter 1

11 Community Healing… a Process Our Partnerships The Transformation process

12 14 16

Chapter 2

Reflections

18

Chapter 3

Julita Dorman

20

Chapter 4

I Want To Achieve More

28

Susan Bothman

34

It’s Never Too Late to Make a Change in Your Life

38

Zukhanye Zenzile

45

Stand Up for Your Rights!

50

Rouwayda Baker

56

I am Nolene, not just for Myself, but for the World

62

Akhona Konana

69

I Never Thought I Had a Story

74

Morica Williams

80

Fatima Swartz

Chapter 5

Esther Ndimande

Founder and Project Manager for Sakha Isizwe Development Foundation

Sadia Davidson’s story

Shahieda Safter’s story

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Nazeema Madatt’s story

Nolene Botsheleng’s story

Chapter 8

Nthabiseng Mohobo’s story

Introduction

The Institute for the Healing of Memories is a registered Public Benefit and a Not for Profit organisation that was established in the spring of 1998 as an outflow of the Truth and Reconciliation Commission. It was established with the knowledge that many South Africans still needed to tell their story. Since its establishment, healing of memories workshops have been offered in all provinces of South Africa.

As we approach 20 years of democracy in South Africa much has been said of how far we have come, what we as a country have done well and what we have done not so well. We are still facing many challenges in building a society that is free from want, inclusive and caring of all its citizens.

Dealing with our ancient, past and present woundedness, remains an imperative.

Building and Healing a Community - 11

Community Healing... a process Fatima Swartz

The community healing process of the Institute for the Healing of Memories is aimed at contributing to the transformation of communities by creating a space for community members to speak about their pain and trauma as individuals and members of their communities and our country. It makes the linkages of what has happened in our past, to what is happening in the present and how this impacts our future. It therefore strives to be an agent of hope for individuals and communities, empowering them with the possibility of creating a better world for themselves and their communities.

The process facilitates: • Creating platforms where residents can exchange ideas, initiatives and plans in order to build solidarity - across social groups, class, ideology, gender, generations and other potential conflict lines.

• The building of healing and reconciliation infrastructures that contributes to creating a peaceful society.

• Ways of understanding each other’s spirituality; environment; and the interconnectedness of the human family.

• The cementing of social cohesion between different social groups, classes, ideologies, genders and generations.

• It does this through building strong and trusting partnerships with individuals, organisations and institutions at various levels in society from local community level to the national, regional, continental and global level.

12 - Community Healing... a process

A variety of activities are used, combining different methodologies of learning to engage participants in these various processes.

•• Community needs analysis workshops are conducted with community members identifying their strengths and their weakness in addressing issues that affect their daily lives and those characteristics that contribute to their resilience in dealing with these challenges in their community.

•• Working with and identifying the different perceptions and perspectives people have of each other to build strong relationships with and between community leaders and local organizations.

•• Collaborating with communities to host Community Dialogues that surfaces the collective pain of the community and provide the tools to talk about these painful issues in a manner that takes individuals and the community forward and contributes to changing the reality of their circumstances.

•• Host joint seminars in communities to create the space for community leaders to talk and think more deeply about issues that affect the emotional and spiritual health of their community.

•• Creating Community Festivals that celebrate that which is life giving in communities, reminding them that despite the challenges there are inspiring things happening in their midst that speaks of and to the creativity and resilience of the human family.

•• Engage in any other activities identified by the communities we work with that further the aims of the Community Healing Project.

Building and Healing a Community - 13

Our Partnerships The Community Healing Project brings together three diverse communities that would not usually work or socialise together. The three communities that partnered with the IHOM and fully participated in all activities of the Community Healing Project are, Atlantis, Masiphumelele and Delft.

One of the most significant ancient, past and present wounds identified by communities is separation in its many manifestations. Separation from land through slavery, colonialism, apartheid and migrant labour. Separation from family and ancestral bonds that anchored the sense of self and identity.

Separation from the rest of the African continent and fellow citizens based on colour and culture. We are all working and learning together to build a better future for ourselves and the generations to come.

Atlantis was built between 1976 and 1986. The township and adjoining industrial area was intended to provide a living and employment opportunities for the “coloured� population who moved there from overcrowded areas in the Western Cape in search of employment and housing.

In reality the area has remained underdeveloped and unemployment is still rife. Atlantis remains a living example of the apartheid era policies of separate development.

Source: http://www.r27.co.za/en/r27%20attractions%20atlantis.html

According to people who claim to be the oldest residents in Delft, this township was started in the 1990s as part of an initiative by the local authorities within the city of Cape Town to provide housing to a growing proportion of inadequately housed members of the Coloured population. Over the years however members of the African population also settled in Delft. It is important to note that prior to arriving in Delft, most residents (Coloureds and Africans alike) had already lived seperately elsewhere in the city of Cape Town.

Source: http://www.westerncape.gov.za/text/2003/migration_study_2001_8_educatio.pdf

Masiphumelele means “let’s succeed” in Xhosa, a call to action! During the 1980’s black people started the first informal settlement close to where Masiphumelele is today. Most of them were working in the Fish Hoek area. They were subjected to severe harassments as they were contravening the apartheid regime’s “Group areas Act”, but they persevered. During 1990 people started to build their shacks and simple homes and set about forming a community. It is estimated that more than 26,000 people live in Masiphumelele today.

Source: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Masiphumelele

The Community Healing journey is rooted in a peace building framework influenced by the work of John Paul Lederach.

1. Starts with individuals and their journey of personal transformation. This includes their healing journey, understanding the values that underpin the behaviours and attitudes that might need to be transformed to improve the quality of their life and those around them.

2. The realisation that they need to be independent and take responsibility for their lives. This implies not being stuck in victimhood and waiting for others to make things right for them.

16 - Community Healing... a process

3. We

live in community with people and need to embrace our interdependence. To make changes in our lives and in those around us we need other people, groups, organisations and institutions to strengthen the journey to independence.

4. This

means that there needs to be a transformation in relationships, with yourself and others. It also implies a transformation in relationship to the various systems we engage with as we get along with our lives.

5. The

various social, economic and political systems need to be transformed to support the development and reconstruction of the country to a more caring one. Systemic transformation process is supported when you have people that are able to grasp the need to and have the vision to transform systems to support the basic needs and development of all citizens.

7. There needs to be a long term commitment to the process. Change takes time.

8. The

development of a new culture of inclusiveness, nonviolence and equality supporting the optimal development of all people living sustainable livelihoods.

6. Two

of the most important components to this transformation process is justice and mercy. Working for a just society that treats people with mercy and in so doing minimises the possibility of harming people physically, emotionally and spiritually.

Building and Healing a Community - 17

REFLECTIONS I have been truly blessed through the intense times I spent especially with the five women whose stories I wrote. I first spent a day with each one of them accompanying them during their home visits and getting to know their homes, their families and their neighbourhoods. Then I visited them again and just listened to their life stories. Thereafter I kept going back to them reading out the stories that I had compiled. We made changes added new parts and enhanced others. Reading the finished stories out loud was one of the most emotional moments. We cried tears of joy and other emotions.

My favourite sentence to hear was: “Yes, this is my story. This is me.” I realized how powerful written words can be. I gave each one a copy of their story when they were finalized and it is amazing what impact these stories already had. When Nolene’s daughter read her mother’s story from A to Z. It brought them closer and helped her understand her mother better. When Sadia read her story with her daughter, they cried in each other’s arms. It seems like the written story containing the expression of deep feelings, true regrets and acknowledgements of mistakes created a space for a new encounter and helped build a new bridge between these mothers and daughters. I feel honoured to have contributed a tiny bit to the betterment of these important relationships. However, it was the truth of the stories themselves that was so powerful. I was just the volunteer who transcribed the stories. These are the women’s authentic life stories and they are the rightful authors.

I want to give special thanks to all women of the Family in Focus Programme in Delft, for their trust, welcoming me with open arms and their friendship. I loved the time we spent together, the meetings, the ball and the surprise party. Thank you for integrating me into your lives. Special thanks go to Nolene, Sadia, Shahieda, Nthabiseng and Nazeema. You are awesome. Keep well and continue your courageous and admirable journeys. I truly appreciate your trust, openness, love and friendship.

A special thanks to Julita for all your efforts with me and the woman, your love for them and your relentless striving for the best for your fellow-women. You are truly an admirable person. I particularly thank the Institute for Healing of Memories for affording me the opportunity to work with these women and be part of this book.

All glory be to God. Esther Ndimande 18 - Reflections

Building and Healing a Community - 19

Julita Dorman Founder and Project Manager for Sakha Isizwe Development Organisation

L

istening to these five life stories has just affirmed what I have always known: These ladies are exceptional women. I have always believed that they will rise above their circumstances and proudly watched them do so. They have taken their lives and decided where they want to go. They can be proud of themselves. In the face of some really traumatic experiences they could surely have turned to drugs or other destructive coping mechanisms. I have deep respect for them, for their decision to choose life and fight for their freedoms. I admire their courage, resilience and their strength not to give up no matter how hard it gets at times. Now they even found the courage to speak about their lives.

I know that it is not easy to face it all again and entrust it to the community.

They have learnt how helpful and encouraging it is to hear about someone’s real life story including the traumas, the hurt, the disappointments and the regrets, but also the triumphs, the hopes and the confident steps towards a better future. By telling their life stories they want to contribute to their communities and help more people to find their way out of abusive and oppressive circumstances. The key I believe is looking into yourself. Dealing with the past, looking at the present and working out a plan for your future and making conscious decisions on what you want to achieve in your life. Leaning on the support you have available, because if you really look around and open yourself up to others you will see that you do have support, maybe not from the people you would have liked to have support from, but from others whom you might least have expected. Support is out there if you reach out for it. In this journey you will discover the strength that you have inside yourself as well.

My own experience has taught me how important this process is. It is essential if you want to get to know yourself, develop confidence and build your self-esteem. In 2000 I was volunteering for the Prison Care and Support Network. We visited Pollsmoor Correctional Services and our function was to visit prisoners who had not received visits, for more than two years. We listened to people’s stories and started to facilitate Personal Development workshops in the prisons. Around the same time I had the opportunity to attend my very first Healing of Memories workshop. I was so privileged that Fr. Michael Lapsley was the lead facilitator of that workshop. I listened to his story and what he had done and sacrificed for the freedom of our country that was not even his own. He fought for the oppressed under the racist apartheid regime and lost his hands in a letter bomb attack. I heard how he forgave and still had love for the people. ‘Forgiveness’ was not part of my personal vocabulary at the time.

I only knew anger and hatred. But through his testimony I realized that you can actually move on. You don’t have to remain a victim of what happened to you. Now Personal Development started to make sense to me.

—00— On the Personal Development workshop I was told that a child is not able to determine its own destiny because they depend on their care givers, but as adults we can change the direction of our lives and we can decide what we want to carry with us, all our life or we can choose to let go and make sure it does not happen to us again and move on. It was suddenly

22 - Julita Dorman

crystal clear to me that if Fr Michael Lapsley lost his hands and could still forgive, then I could also make peace and change my life. I was so humbled and amazed.

—00— I started off my working life working as a tea girl for a corporate company called Catalyst, there I was given the opportunity to grow in the company. Like the five woman who share their stories here and many others in our community, I did not finish school when I was young. I did not have a lot of confidence in myself but my boss at the time Mr Bryan Mitchell motivated me and six years later I was the creditor’s clerk. Even though I loved the people I worked with I did not particularly like the work I was doing and in 2005 I joined the Foundation for Community Work (FCW) where I was trained as a project coordinator under the leadership of the Director Mr Riedewhaan Allie. Mr Allie taught me everything I know about community development and Early Childhood Development. He believed in me and entrusted me with more and more tasks until finally Sakha Isizwe development which means (Building the Nation) was born in 2012 of which I am now, the Project Manager.

Sakha Isizwe signed a Memorandum of Understanding with the Foundation for Community Work to manage their Family in Focus Programme (FIF) in Delft. Throughout my own journey I learnt how important it is to help workers grow personally as well. When I eventually completed my Matric in 2010, I was the proudest woman in the world. It had been a long way, tears and sweat, but it showed me how true it was: Learning to believe in myself, gave me the strength and resilience I needed to make something out of my life.

I realized how valuable healing and personal growth is. Academic skills are necessary and helpful but inner development is just as important. The one is no less important than the other.

My role as a project manager is to make sure the project runs smoothly. I also noticed that home visitors were leaving the programme after a short time, and this was my biggest challenge.

People were dropping out of the project, some for other jobs but others, for no apparent reason, and I found it hard to understand why someone so desperate for work, could just resign. I realized that they were as broken as our communities and therefore needed to deal with their personal issues as well. I decided to make personal development training and the Healing of Memories workshops an important aspect of the organization’s mission and activities. This has brought me to the realisation that if people don’t have confidence in themselves, it is difficult firstly to face the everyday challenges of life, let alone the work situation.

In cooperation with the Institute for Healing of Memories we are able to have each of the home visitors experience a Healing of Memories workshop which helped them to start talking about their lives, their challenges and their process towards inner healing. We can hardly build up a community if we have not experienced healing ourselves. I need to be strong and believe in myself before I can reach out to others. The personal development workshops take us further. We state goals for the next few years and as a team we encourage one another to work towards these goals. I love seeing us striving for our dreams.

Building and Healing a Community - 23

—00— I appreciate the benefit of different organizations complementing and collaborating with each other to serve the community. When a new home visitor comes onto the Family in Focus Programme they get to know all other organizations and stakeholders in their neighbourhood so that they can refer families to the correct bodies and use these networks to serve families the best way possible.

—00— When I arrived in Delft on 7 July 2012, I met these wonderful woman, held interviews and sent them to work the next day.

I was very excited to meet them. For the first three weeks they visited families and organizations around their area to introduce the programme and network with other stakeholders that can support these families, including schools, churches and government departments. The home visitors introduce themselves and explain the programme even before they got training they are able to do so. With more training they just got better and better. Home visitors know their areas and recruit the families they work with.

—00— Once on the programme the home visitors are trained on six modules by FCW. The modules cover community development, early childhood development, child protection, health, and HIV/ AIDS. After the training the home visitors commit to visiting the families, twice a month. The care givers and home visitors work together in exploring ways of using materials in and around the house to teach literacy, numeracy and other life skills and in doing so, prepare the children for school. They also facilitate two parenting workshops per month. These workshops provide practical parenting skills and open a forum for caregivers to talk about challenges as well. We believe caregivers are the first and foremost teachers of children.

—00— 24 - Julita Dorman

Building and Healing a Community - 25

The home visitors do a great job in encouraging caregivers to be a part of the child’s life.

Personally I would love to keep them close but at the same time the goal is for them to use this voluntary work and personal development experience, as a stepping stone. The aim is for the home visitors to stay on the programme for about two years and then move on to realize their own dreams. A lot of them still want to finish school or further their studies and I see it as Sakha’s Isizwe mission, to support them in their personal journeys.

For most of them Sakha Isizwe is just like a station on the way, but an important one that helps them find their way. In the personal development trainings they make their own future plans and we accompany them, and follow up on their progress. They learn that they are able to do something. They can take their lives into their own hands and they can take opportunities.

It is amazing to see how they progress. A lot of them go onto community committees and become strong members. They might have been attending meetings before sitting in the crowd, but now as a result of their journeys they have become community leaders, known and respected. They are committed to making positive changes, where they are.

Those who left have found jobs that suit them well. Some got posts at government departments like the South African Social Security Agency (SASSA) or the Department of Water Affairs and Forestry, and the courts. Others have received study bursaries or scholarships. One gentleman opened his own organization. They can be proud of themselves. All the home visitors who have already left and moved on and all who are still with us, I have been privileged to support them, on their personal journeys.

I am glad to see how the fruitful cooperation with different organizations contributes to the best of our communities. Recently Graeme Arendse from Youth Art Development Cooperative (YARD) came to Delft and facilitated three sessions around toy making.

This workshops helped us to develop our creative side, which some of us thought we never had. He further brought in his ideas of compiling a book that home visitors could use in the field and further capacitate the care givers in order for them to stimulate their children. With this idea in mind it just motivated us to work even harder, to make this book more special. Through this collaboration every organization has their impact and contribution. I am so grateful to each one who invests into our communities.

—00— Firstly I want to give all the praises and glory to GOD, it is HE that makes all thing possible. Thank you to all organizations for their contributions. Especially The Prison Care and Support Network for introducing me to the personal development workshops.

FCW for my academic development, for believing in me and for encouraging me and supporting me in the registration of Sakha Isizwe and for still supporting and believing in me.

26 - Julita Dorman

The Institute for Healing of Memories for allowing me to be a part of the journey and giving me the opportunity to become a facilitator. Thank you for your collaboration with Sakha Isizwe and for all the workshops the home visitors attended. I would also like to thank Graeme from Y.A.R.D. for his contribution in bringing out our creative side and for giving so unselfishly of himself.

Furthermore I would like to thank everyone else who is also part of this journey, especially all home visitors and their families, Our committee members, together with my husband Deon, daughter Cassey, son Kurt. My parents and my sister Natalie. Today my eyes are filled with tears of joy and gratitude.

Building and Healing a Community - 27

I WANT TO ACHIEVE MORE Sadia Davidson’s story

P

art of my community work here in Delft is to make home visits to support parents in their homes to prepare their children for primary school. I help parents teach their children life skills as well. On some family visits I use a doll and let the doll tell the story. The doll tells the children that she was touched in her private parts at a friend’s sleep over. I then ask the children what they would do if it happened to them. I teach the children that it is best to tell mommy or another adult. I know how important it is to talk about these issues in order to protect our children.

I am going through an emotional time at this moment, whilst sharing my life story, as I am in the process of going through a difficult divorce and it has been a long journey, to this point.

I grew up in Lavender Hill, together with my father, mother, brother and my grandmother, living in a flat. My mother worked all her life; my dad never worked but stayed at home to look after us children. I was very close to him. He loved us and was very gentle with us, the father everyone wishes to have. However he was abusive to our mother. He hit her and cheated on her a lot. One day when I was about 9 years old my father had an argument on the street and was stabbed to death. Everything changed when I lost my father. When I was about eleven years old I remember my mother had a friend of the family who used to come to visit us and who stayed at my mother’s aunt’s place. We spent a lot of time with him. Maybe I was looking for a new father figure in my life and therefore became close to him. One day he took advantage of my vulnerability and made me have sex with him. I can’t recall how it happened exactly. It seems like my brain has blocked out most of the memory of this incident.

It only came up again many years later.

I grew up in a Muslim home and went to a Muslim school. I became rebellious as a teenager. I didn’t want to listen to my mother and stopped going to school in Grade Nine. I stayed out and had a lot of men in my life. At 15 years old, I fell pregnant. My mother threw me out of the house. I first lived with my aunt and uncle but because they smoked a lot, my boyfriend worried about me and the baby’s health and wanted me to stay somewhere else. We moved to his parents and I gave birth to my first son. I was young when I had my baby, but it was normal for me. I always loved children. Even when I sometimes cried out of frustration and lack of sleep, whilst my boyfriend slept. I did not question having my baby. My boyfriend was working and for the first year I stayed at home. When our sweet son turned one, I also went to work.

When I was 18 years old we got married. I then moved back home for a while before we bought a house in Delft. We were in love but also very young. Maybe we were just a little too young to build a stable home. My husband stayed at home because he couldn’t keep any job for long. He had problems accepting criticism. Maybe he felt attacked and then gave up. He was working here and there but we could never really settle. I was the breadwinner working at the supermarket, Shoprite. 20 Years ago we moved into the house I am living in right now. My son was four years old when we moved to Delft. I fell pregnant and gave birth to our daughter. Three weeks after she was born, we found out that she was asthmatic. Due to the many attacks she suffered I was more at home and in hospital, than at work. We had to

30 - I Want to Achieve More

take her to the hospital a lot. Unfortunately my boss didn’t understand and told me to either come to work every day or to resign. I decided to leave the job because my daughter was more important. My child came first, that was clear for me.

Now that I was staying at home my husband and I started to argue a lot more. Most of our problems started then. My husband had to start working and provide for us. The difficulty was that he could not find a permanent job, and only worked casually. He became the breadwinner and I stayed at home most of the time. In the beginning our relationship was good but as it progressed it began to go downhill. We started verbally fighting and blaming each other.

Sometimes there was nothing to eat for us and the children. Then I often got angry at him because of his attitude of not having the ability to accept correction at work and because he wasn’t able to keep a job. The main problem was really the work, otherwise he was a romantic and loving husband. He was a very good father to his children. He looked after them well and was never abusive. He also helped me with the house work. Now I think that maybe if I had a little more patience with him, our marriage could have worked. However, we didn’t manage to handle our challenges in a good way.

—00— He started going out with friends and began to drink at times. I also had an affair outside the marriage. I thought that we had grown apart and wanted a divorce. He never showed up in court but we finally got divorced. Our daughter was about three years old then. Before I left my husband I also started drinking and when he was gone everything changed. I was drinking and went partying like I never had before. I became reckless. I still look after my children who were three and eight years old, but I went overboard. I stayed away overnight, brought home different boyfriends and just drank too much alcohol. It was a completely new and destructive lifestyle that I adopted and it just messed my life up even further. This kind of lifestyle can never be good. It had a negative influence on my children. I feel there was something more I could have done and life could have turned out different.

During this time I met my second husband at one of those parties. I fell in love and we started dating. Very soon he moved in with us. I don’t understand why I fell for him, why I started a serious relationship with him. I knew what type of man he was. By the time we got married, he was a father of two kids and I was his third wife. The first one had died and he had just divorced the second wife. He was a womanizer, very charming and flattering and able to get the lady he wanted. I was just stupid and in love, happy that I had found someone again. Besides that he was working and I didn’t have a job. It had been very hard, where we sometimes had absolutely nothing to eat, and I would go to our neighbour’s house to get a plate of food. I’d share it between my two children. My son would always ask, “Mom, did you eat as well?” I’d say that I had already eaten at our neighbour’s and that I was just bringing the food for them now. Otherwise my son would not have eaten anything. I always thought that the fact that my second husband provided for my family and became the breadwinner was one reason why I married him. I wanted to have a stable home again.

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Our marriage soon turned sour. He didn’t settle down. He still went partying every weekend.

From Monday to Thursday we would be alright but on weekends he would go out, drink and have other women. Then we would fight and he would abuse me verbally and physically. We argued about what he was doing to me and about finances. He didn’t like to give me money, he only bought what he liked for himself. The worst thing was that I so deeply dependant on him and his income. I didn’t want my children to go hungry. I sacrificed for my children, even though it was not much food. If I think back now I was actually silly to do that. In spite of all the cheating and fights we stayed together for 15 years. At times he stopped partying for a while but then after two or three years he cheated on me again. He did it over and over again.

—00— One time the children and I went to my mom for a weekend and when we came back my husband was not at home and the house was locked. I went to look for him and eventually found him asleep with another woman in his car. He sent me home and told me I should wait for him there. When he came back he forced me to sleep with him. Another time when I found him with another woman, I went back home and packed his bag to throw him out of the house. When he came home, I was standing outside the house with his packed bag telling him that he couldn’t stay with me anymore. I don’t know what he was thinking but still sitting in his car he drove towards me and pinned me against the wall with his car. I had bruises all over my body.

Once I was staying with my parents because I had enough; he came in the middle of the night and hooted and banged against the door saying that he wanted me back disturbing the peace at my parent’s house. Since I didn’t want them to be upset I went back home to my husband and for a little while he was the best husband and father again but not for very long. He started abusing me again. One day I was holding a glass and he hit me in my face so badly that the glass banged against my tooth. The tooth was broken and had to be extracted.

Another time he threatened me in his madness, saying that he would burn down our house. I went to the police and got a protection order which prohibited him from coming close to the house. After that everything was calm again for a while. He stopped abusing me physically and he stopped drinking, but he never stopped cheating on me.

Two years ago I found out that he had done it again. This time, however, it was our neighbours daughter. Rumours had reached me that my husband was seen with her, at first I didn’t think much about it since she was our neighbour. The girl was only one year older than my own daughter; I had watched her growing up. They lived next door and my daughter used to play with her. This was too much for me, and I decided to confront him. He first denied that he had slept with her. Then he started accusing me of things but by this time I knew it was true. He swore that it was a lie but when I asked the girl she admitted it all. What a shame! He was 41 years old and the girl was 18. Our neighbours were so ashamed of what had happened that they moved away from Delft. I was destroyed at that time, I threw him out of the house and slowly became more independent.

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Builing a Community - 35

I wish it was easier to free myself from this relationship that is pulling me down so much, it is incredible how my husband has so often been able to make me forgive him. He is obsessive, jealous and controlling with me when we are together. He wants me all for himself but at the same time he goes out and keeps on cheating on me. He can be the sweetest and most charming person at times, especially when he wants me back. Other times he is extremely controlling and puts me down. In his presence, I feel insecure. I feel silly and not adequate to talk or to express myself. I become very quiet. My friends and family know how open and outspoken I am when I feel comfortable. But I can’t be myself around him. It feels like I am never good enough. Despite his unfaithfulness I have always taken him back in. This time after he had slept with our neighbour’s daughter I wanted to divorce him but because he claimed the house and wanted me to sell it, I eventually decided to give him another chance and let him come back.

My children went through a lot of pain with me. At first they were quite close with my husband but then they watched him hurting me and saw how bad the relationship was for me. They watched how many times I gave in and took him back in. This time my son was very disappointed. One day when my husband did not give me any money, all his anger that he had kept inside for years, came out. He became so angry and aggressive towards me. He said my husband didn’t provide for me the way he should, instead he was cheating on me and now also wanted our house. He started swearing and pulling my hair. It turned into a fight and I tried to free myself but he was stronger. I looked around and the only thing I could grab

SUSAN BOTHMAN

M

y name is Susan Bothman but I was born Miss Susan Graaf. I grew up with my grandparents in Beaufort West and I have one brother and one sister.

My niece and nephew who died many years ago also lived with my grandparents. We were five children in the house, living in a two bedroom council house.

My mother worked in the city and my grandfather worked at the railway, we didn’t had much but the basics.

My mother would send money home but not much and not frequently. At the age of 12, I will never forget, my mother sent me clothes for Christmas and my birthday present as my birthday is the day after Christmas. That was the last I ever heard of my mother. I couldn’t go to school any more because my grandparents didn’t have money to pay my school fees. So I left school and went to Cape Town to support my grandparents.

I was 17 years old when I started at the Volkshospital in Cape Town. I worked for one year and they accommodated me at the hospital. A year later I

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lost my job at the hospital and had to move out. I then found accommodation with people in Elsies River and looked after their children, I later moved to Mitchell’s Plain and stayed there for a few months.

A few months later I stayed with friends in Woodstock, my friends’ husband found me a job at Somerset Hospital. I moved back to Mitchells Plain where I stayed for the 9 years, from 1982. In Mitchells Plain I moved from one place to another and finally to Delft in 1991. I managed to get a job at the Cape Town Airport and for the first time in my life things seems to be going well.

I met my husband a year later and in 1996 we were the first couple to get married in the VGK church which was still new at that time, I am very happy in Delft and I was the first resident who moved into Delft, Voorbrug. We were at the time only four people in the street in Voorbrug and the street we currently live in is very nice and quiet space.

The history of Delft was that it was a shooting Ranch for the army many years ago, there is also stories that says a ghost is roaming the street, which is a 8 year old boy called Blondie.

was his 21st Birthday key. I started beating him with the glass plate the key stood on. I hit his face several times. He started bleeding but still did not let go of my hair. He shouted at me and I threw the key away, and only then, did he open his hand, and run off. This was the most horrible experience I’ve ever had. I just saw all the blood and thought that I had killed my own son. I was shocked that I was capable of beating him so violently. He ran to his father and they went to hospital, where he was stitched. The doctor wanted to lay a charge but my son never went back to him. He came home, just the other day and cried and apologized, saying it would never happen again, but it showed me, how much my children have suffered under my bad marriage. I have had a lot of arguments with my son, but I never really understood just how much he has been hurting, as well. This time it just went too far. He could not bear watching how my husband was making a mockery out of me. My children lost their respect for my husband.

The relationship with my son is getting better. He is trying hard and we are almost where we were before our fight. I still blame myself for the anger he had accumulated all these years.

Why did I not leave my husband earlier? I could have spared us all this unhappiness.

Six years ago my husband and I were legally married, in community of property. I did not really understand it then, but my husband insisted, as he really wanted to get officially married to me. Now this is putting me into a bad position. The house I am living in was bought by me and my first husband. When we got divorced I kept it to raise our children since he did not pay maintenance for them. Now my concern is that I might have to sell this house in

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order to share it with my husband. I can’t imagine how that would work out. I am living here with my daughter, my son, his wife and their child. What if I have to sell it? Will we be able to find another good place to stay that we can afford? I actually want to get out of Delft. I have too many bad memories here. Eindhoven is a very small neighbourhood. People know my husband and what he did to me. As soon as I am financially stable and my son has a permanent job I want to move.

What helped me a lot were the Healing of Memories workshop and the personal development workshop of Sakha Isizwe. My sister in law had started working for the Delft Family in Focus Programme and told me that they were looking for someone in Eindhoven, where I live. I have always loved children and I liked their way of working. I thought that a lot of children in my area and especially their parents needed some support in raising and educating their children. She recommended me and after an interview I got the job. That was in October 2012. I like the work I am doing. I liked seeing how parents slowly change their mind-sets for the better. I only got a modest stipend but it made me feel like a millionaire. I finally had my own money again. My husband always said he provided for us but it was never really enough. We could only buy food with it.

When I went on my first get-away with Sakha Isizwe for a personal development workshop in Simon’s Town, I started to change the way I see myself. I started to believe more in myself, I started to have a completely new perspective. I had more courage and became a stronger person. I had been so dependent on my husband. The personal development was so good I could open up and look at my life. We were asked to draw our life path and think about our life, then we developed what we wanted to achieve in the future and wrote a list. I decided I would get my driver’s license. I would like to get a car and be able to work as a driver for a crèche or maybe open my own edu-care centre. So far I have already received my learner’s license. Besides that I committed to finishing school. It was challenging to put up goals but it really helped me to focus and move forward. I did go back to school and got my National Qualification Framework (NQF) Level Four which equals Matric and I want to continue with the levels Five and Six so that I will be able to go to a college or to teach Grade R at school or in an edu-care centre. The workshops really helped me to open up my life and to become a better person. I became hungry to learn more. I WANT TO ACHIEVE MORE! Sakha Isizwe also gave me the privilege of going to a Healing of Memories workshop, which was another new experience for me. Everyone got a chance to talk and everybody else listened. They have a way of letting you talk that brings everything out. Even though the people in my small group were all complete strangers, we respectfully listened to every story. I thought my problems were so heavy but then they told me what they went through and what they achieved. It gave me courage to tell my story. It’s amazing how they really listened; they did not give me any advice. I just felt that a heavy weight was off my shoulders. I never used to tell others how I felt. This taught me how to open up, how to talk to my husband and children and to also listen to them. It’s still hard to do that in practice. As parents we sometimes think that we know everything, but we also make mistakes.

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It changed me as a person. I would instantly go on another Healing of Memories workshop and would love to send my children to one. I also encourage my parents to go as well. We all need someone who listens and who doesn’t judge us, but tries to understand us. Now I am on the Community Dialogue Committee and I really enjoy it. The Committee connects the Healing of Memories with the Delft Community. Let’s see what the future holds. I would love to become a Healing of Memories facilitator.

I just want to be happy. I want a stable job so I can make a decent living. I wish I could fall in love again and be swept off my feet by a loving man. I haven’t felt like this for the last 16 years. I want to finish my Matric and study and become someone. Life is difficult right now but it’s going to get better. I wish the best for my children, that my son can find a permanent job or study and find better work. For my daughter I wish that she gets an opportunity to study so that both my children can provide for themselves.

As a home visitor of the Delft Family in Focus Programme I hope I can help parents to avoid doing the mistakes I did. I learnt that the development of a child in the early years is so crucial for shaping the child, including their beliefs. My children grew up in the unstable ups-and-downs of my relationships. My daughter was three years old when I got divorced and my other relations started. Those were the worst years. I am proud of my children. They are very respectful and responsible despite what they experienced at home. There is not one neighbour in my community who has any complaints about them. Children watch all that we parents do or say. No matter how little they seem to be, they are learning from us. We need to be aware of what role models we represent. The Family in Focus Programme is precious because it prepares children of families with low income for their school career. The better we prepare them and invest time and love into their development the better chances they will have. Sometimes I feel that parents could give more. I want the parents to interact more with their children and build their relationships with them. Stable and loving relationships are just as important as education. The programme is not about me coming into the home to teach the children, it’s the care giver who is the only one who can do it effectively. I am just there to support them. If the parents could open up more and realize the benefit, then our children could have a better future.

When I went to Cape Town for a couple of weeks to get some distance from my husband, the parents and children missed me, in the community. They told me later that the children love me. One mother was so grateful that she learnt to spend time with her child. Before she never knew how to. I am happy that our efforts are bearing fruit.

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IT IS NEVER TOO LATE TO MAKE A CHANGE IN YOUR LIFE! Shahieda Safter’s story

I

grew up as the second born of seven children in a very strict Muslim home in Mitchell’s Plain. I always attended the Islamic school. My father was very strict and did not allow me to go out. I had to stay at home most of the time, couldn’t go to shops, had no friends and had to be in bed early. He was very worried that I would hang around with boys.

That was also the reason why he took me out of school in Grade Seven. At that time I didn’t think much about it. It was only after two years that I realized that it was not right. Looking back I said to myself that if I could turn back the clock I would want to go to school again. I only knew house work, cooking and cleaning and had no proper education that could qualify me for a good job. I was also not allowed to work outside the house. Then I did not know I had rights.

When I was eighteen I stayed with a rich aunt for about a year. I first thought this would be a beautiful time but it turned out that she had the same habits as my father. She also locked me in. I had no freedoms, no friends. I had to be in the house all day to cook and clean and satisfy everybody else. But nobody was concerned about my feelings. I became angry and frustrated thinking that nobody loved me or cared about me. I felt alone. I did have both parents and my mother was a good person, but my father was too strict. She couldn’t stand up for herself, he simply overpowered her.

My father was a fisherman and had his moods. When the sea was rough he often came home angry. When I was 19 years old he had to sell our house in Mitchell’s Plain in order to buy a boat. It was a difficult phase. He then started renting houses before he finally bought a house in Delft. My father was very hard on us children and driven by his changing moods.

One day he came home angry and threw the four eldest children out of the house. We had to find our own way in life. For two years I had to stay with different people and often on the streets. It was the hardest time for me as a young girl. I had to work for other people, cleaning their houses for a plate of food. I went from one place to another so that I could survive somehow. I didn’t blame my mother for not having protected me but had a lot of anger against my father. I thought I could have had a better life if he was different.

At the age of 21 I went back home and had my 21st Birthday celebration. My father had his moods again, was shouting and threw me out of the house again. I think I was looking for love and acceptance and having nowhere to go I had a one-night-stand. I got pregnant and the father of the child did not take any responsibility. I went back home again. At 23 years of age I had my first daughter Nadia without being married which made my father angry. He started to be nasty to me. It was hard to raise my daughter on my own without a husband and being in the house of my father. I wanted to get out but having dropped out of school I did not have many options to stand on my own. I felt so powerless.

When I was twenty-eight years old my brother was living with a man in Mitchell’s Plain when I went to visit him. At our first encounter I noticed that the man liked me. He was 45 years old and had been married before, his wife had passed away. He was left with two children, twelve and seventeen years old. He asked me to stay overnight and offered and offered that I sleep the room with the children.

40 - It is Never Too Late

Then he asked me to marry him. I thought about my five year old daughter Nadia. I wanted to give her a more stable life and felt I needed the support of a husband. I believed that I would find stability and more independence from my parents in a marriage with him. I had no idea what to expect. Only two weeks after I had met him for the first time we got married. Since there was not much time I used the dress I wore on my 21st birthday celebration. It was a beautiful long white dress. I had a nice white scarf and got many compliments of how beautiful and young I looked. I was happy that day. I thought I had found my happiness now. I was expecting a beautiful future. After the ceremony I moved into his house in Mitchell’s Plain.

For the first two years we were ok but then the frustration and the arguments started. His eldest daughter did not accept Nadia; she was very jealous and wanted her father for herself.

My husband also started to treat her badly, I decided that they could not live together. I sent Nadia to live with my parents. I experienced my husband’s real character. After I had given birth to our daughter Rabia my husband did not want more children. I was on birth control but still got pregnant. When I told him, he was upset. His daughter was still very angry and jealous, I think because my husband did admire me. So I had a lot of arguments with my stepdaughter. She would swear at me. She didn’t have much respect for me.

One day when I was heavily pregnant I had another argument with my stepdaughter. She was very rude and started fighting physically. I was not used to violence. I tried to protect myself but I wasn’t able to protect my womb. She kicked against it several times and hurt me severely. I did not go to the doctor. Three weeks later I was in labour and gave birth. The nurse came to me and said she had good and bad news for me. The good news was that it was a baby boy and I always wanted to have a boy. The bad news was that he was still born. He had died about four days prior to the delivery. We had a funeral for him but neither my husband nor I could attend it. My husband was at sea with my father and I had to stay in hospital for few more days. I went to the grave as soon as I got out. I cried a lot. I was so sad but the people told me I shouldn’t be sad. I would see him in heaven. After two years I got pregnant again and gave birth to another baby girl, Abida.

My marriage was not at all how I wanted it. My husband treated me like a maid. He used to take drugs and whenever he had no money to buy them he would swear at me and become aggressive. I was strong and told him that what he was doing was not right. I was not use to swearing, especially in front of children. I said to him: ‘You can go on with this”. I’ll wait until my girls are older.’ I didn’t want to stay in this marriage. I thought I would leave him when my girls were older. Now we had at least a roof above our heads. I have always been a very religious person who prayed a lot. Five years into the marriage I set my heart towards God. When my husband insulted me, it didn’t hurt like before.

When Nadia was sixteen years old she came back to live with me. She worked as a casual on weekends and brought me money or bought food for the whole family. She shared with all of them but her elder stepsister was nasty and never shared with her. She bullied her and tried to restrict her as much as she could. She told her she wasn’t allowed to listen to music or to touch the food. I tried to defend her and told my husband that she had the same right Building and Healing a Community - 41

to stay here and eat. On top of that she was working. She was not living on his pocket. My husband was an angry man and did not care. He said his children had more rights and that it was their house. I never allowed smoking and drinking in the house when I was there. My stepdaughters sometimes rebelled against me. My husband was concerned about getting his own drugs, nothing else. He would go on swearing for hours in front of the children. He just wanted money for his drugs. Sometimes I would finally take the money and throw it at him, so that he stopped shouting. The drugs calmed him. I wanted to get out but I was worried that if we lived with another family they would treat my children badly.

After eleven years of marriage I had a big argument with my husband. His eldest daughter had two sons who were staying with us. He once wanted to buy something for one of them and not for the other children which I found very unfair. I used to help in a soup kitchen at that time and told someone about it. People apparently spread the word and gossiped which made him very angry. He said I shouldn’t be talking about ‘his’ children. I said they are all our children.

Then he shouted at me saying I should take my clothes. This was not my house but his.

I packed my bags and left with my two children, Rabia was 11 and Abida 8 years old. We stayed in Delft with my parents. I worked as a domestic worker. I had a friend, Nadima from Mitchell’s Plain, whom I knew from the lady gatherings at the Islamic school where she was a teacher. I visited her a lot during this time. She opened her house for me and comforted me like a sister. My eldest daughter Nadia had gotten married and also stayed in Mitchell’s Plain.

We often visited her and spent time with her. After eight months my husband went to Nadia and asked her for money so that he could go and fetch me. He wanted me back. He came and apologized and begged me to go back home with him. I hoped so much that he had changed that I went back with him.

I always used to go to the Islamic school and meet with other Muslim ladies. One of the ladies, Fatima, became a friend of the family. She visited me every week and took me to the Islamic school. We shared a lot of things and she gave me advice. She knew my husband as well. She liked us and never spoke badly about him but once she gave me a wake-up call.

She said to me: ‘Is that life really for you?’ I knew it was not. ‘So don’t stay! Don’t stay in this life, don’t stay in this marriage. Do it for your kids.’ However it took me long to get out. Throughout all the years I kept thinking: ‘This life is not for me.’ Nevertheless, I stayed eighteen years with this man altogether.

After the separation, I had started working in a café in order to earn my own money and put food on the table. I had casual jobs and looked after my children and my husband’s grandchildren. I thought it was not their fault what their mother did. I raised them with love and they respected me. My husband was working and also used to give me money but he would ask me to give it back to him as soon as he needed his drugs again. I often said to him that I would not get the money for him, and then he would start swearing the worst things at me. Not having his drugs made him so frustrated and angry that he would abuse me verbally.

He told me that this was not my house but his. He was so desperate for money and wanted it for his drugs.

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Builing a Community - 45

I was in an inner conflict. First I hardly had any money and second I didn’t want to sustain his addiction and his terrible manners. I didn’t want to waste our money on drugs, but he wouldn’t stop until he got them. As soon as he had his drug he would be nice and calm again, as if he was a completely different person. One day he went out on the street and threatened me saying that if I didn’t give him money, he would kill himself. I shouted back: ‘Ok, it’s ok for me!’ Later I said to him: ‘If you are like that, stay away from me!’ One day he told me he loved me, the next day he told me he hated me. He didn’t have the right to be so rude and disrespectful to me. I kept asking myself: ‘Is this life really for you?’ A long time ago I had made the decision. I knew I had to get out of this life.

I look quiet and shy, but you don’t mess in my face. My husband never beat me because I did not let him. When he once pointed in my face I bit his finger. I had decided that I wouldn’t allow my husband to hit me. When he smacked me, I smacked back. Sometimes we fought but I knew I would not just let things happen to me. I empowered myself during the marriage. I also worked in a factory for half a year when I was 40 years old. I was glad to have some money in my own pocket. The money I got from my husband could only cover the basic food and electricity; no extras at all. I learnt how to use my small budget well. I would cook tasty food and clean the house nicely. People couldn’t notice that I was struggling.

Unfortunately my hard work was not appreciated by my husband. I am grateful for Nadima my only friend at that time. She was the only person I could trust and talk to about what was going on. She knows my whole life story. She listened to me and never judged me.

When Rabia turned seventeen a boy asked for her hand in marriage. They were so in love and according to my Muslim belief I wanted to help them to get married. Since he was a foreigner coming from Pakistan and did not have any house but stayed in a tiny room, I wanted to offer them a room in our house. My husband’s house had three rooms. I thought

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the two could share one. My husband was completely opposed to that idea and didn’t want to allow Rabia to get married. I asked him why she wasn’t allowed to get married whereas his daughters had gotten married before. He threatened to throw Rabia out of the house. At that point I knew it was time to get out. I told him that I would not allow him to throw her out.

While he was watching I started packing my clothes. After 18 years of battle I could not stay any longer. He said he was wondering where I would end up. I said: ‘Only God knows. Why did you even come to fetch me the other time, if I wasn’t right for you?’ He couldn’t answer me. I said to him: ‘You did not really miss me. You just missed me for cooking and cleaning!’

Since we were only married in our Muslim tradition and the marriage was not officially recognized I just went. It was around midnight when I took my two daughters and left everything else. I did not take any goods with me. I did not claim the house. I said: ‘This is my time, my chance to get out of here’. I just wanted my peace. Rabia was 17 and Abida 14 years old.

We went to my aunt’s house. For eight months we lived in a Wendy house of two rooms that we put up ourselves in the back of the yard. It was not an easy time. When you rent a place at the back you are in a vulnerable position. Our landlords argued with us, were angry and sometimes locked the door so that we could not wash or use the toilet. They were so greedy for money. Sometimes they would just put the electricity off to make us move away.

Eventually I phoned my mother and asked whether we could stay with her in Delft. We first stayed with her and my sister’s family in the main house, then we moved to the little Wendy house at the back.

It was a relief for me to come to Delft. When I came I had nothing but my son in law and Nadia supported me a lot. I could visit her on weekends. My stepdaughter was so unreasonable that she sent her children to stay with me in Delft, but I sent them right back.

ZUKHANYE ZENZILE

M

y name is Zukhanye Zenzile and I was born in 1989 at Groote Schuur in Cape Town I grew up in a small shack with my three siblings (two sisters and one bother), my mother who was a single parent.

I started my primary school at Thembahi Primary School, that period was a hard time for me. I never had what the other students had, fancy clothes and a proper school uniform, but through all that I appreciated what I had even though they made fun of me.

Due to my background and how I was raised, I am a person who cares about people and has a positive attitude for everything I do. I get challenges sometimes but I try to overcome them.

I attended Khulani High school and completed my grade 12 in 2010 which I didn’t pass and that was a great challenge but due to the grace of God, I had the strength to go back to school on the West Coast but dropped out again due to financial difficulties. Since I got this job I will save money so that I can go back to school in 2 years to get my matric certificate.

Building and Healing a Community - 45

Why should I still raise them having hardly enough food for myself and for my daughter?

I wanted my daughter Abida to stay at her father’s house because I had no money to pay her taxi fares. He however said that he didn’t want her. I was shocked. Even a dog would not throw its own children out. My husband only paid R200 per month for his daughter.

Since it was a ridiculous amount I told him he could stop paying it. As if one could raise a child with that little money. Behind my back he went to the Imam and told him lies about me and our marriage. I didn’t get the chance to explain myself but at least we got divorced.

In December 2011 my sister in law Lameez introduced me to the Delft Family in Focus Programme coordinated by Sakha Isizwe and told me to make my CV and wait for their call. I always dreamt of being a teacher or a crèche teacher. I have a passion for children and I love talking to people. After an interview I was accepted and glad I could start working for them. The organization Sakha Isizwe partners with different organizations including the Institute for Healing of Memories. Part of the organization’s mission is to promote the personal development of their own staff. Together with other home visitors I was sent on a weekend away to a Healing of Memories workshop. We were asked to tell our life stories in small groups on the second day. At first I thought: ‘What is this?’ I had never been open in the past. Certain things I just couldn’t share with anyone otherwise they would spread my story. In these small groups however everybody shared their story. I wasn’t scared anymore. I just came out and started to tell my story piece by piece. I thank Healing of Memories. They helped me to open up more. They gave me respect by listening to my story. I felt good because they cared about me. Before I experienced that people are more concerned about themselves and don’t worry much about others. I felt very lonely but then I thought I could face the world again. I couldn’t speak in front of people but now I feel I can do it. I am glad that I am respected again in my community. I am not afraid of people anymore. I want that we treat one another with respect without shouting and swearing. I got respect for people and they respect me back.

It’s amazing. I decided to fight for a better life. I will change it so that I can be happy.

I won’t become rude or angry. I will stay a kind and respectful person no matter what happens. When I am asked for something and I have it, I will give. Recently two ladies complimented me saying that I am beautiful and a nice person. I never heard that from my husband. I am happy that people see who I am.

I was very inexperienced when I had my first child and made a huge mistake by getting married to my ex-husband. It was very hard for Nadia to grow up without having a father. I made a promise to myself when my daughters were little. I wouldn’t let them get pregnant before they are married and I wouldn’t accept any husband who is not hard working and can’t provide for the family. I taught my girls to choose their husbands well.

I did not let my daughters go out a lot. I thought their husbands could take them out and spoil them when they are married. That is what I wished for them. I never had romantic

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dates. My husband never took me out. Nadia is well off today. She lives with her husband and three children in Pakistan. They are expecting their fourth child. Rabia also got a very nice husband and one child. She is living in Pakistan now. I talk to her on Skype sometimes and I can see that she is happy.

I am glad that I left my husband and am free now but I feel for my sixteen year old daughter Abida who misses a father in her life. Unfortunately her father broke her trust.

When she went to stay with him for three weeks during the holidays at the end of last year, he did not provide proper food for her. I heard that he even went to a social worker blaming me for not taking good care of my daughter. When I went to his house to see what was going on he pushed me away. He tried to take my youngest daughter Abida away from me, but didn’t tell her what he was doing. When she learnt it Abida withdrew the case and told the social worker the truth. The last thing I am doing is neglecting my daughter! I put food on the table and buy her toiletries.

The truth is that he neglected her while she was there. He didn’t give her good food, soap or toothpaste. He uses all his money for drugs. She came home sick. She lost her selfconfidence and became very angry. Now he does not respond to her anymore. Instead he told Abida that she mustn’t put her feet in his house. He doesn’t want to see her. It hurt her deeply. Her father is not there for her and she can’t understand why. She’s afraid of her father and doesn’t want to meet him at the moment. She has become very insecure; she failed a test and doesn’t want to go to school anymore. She doesn’t want to go out on her own. She only trusts me, Nadia and Rabia. Wherever I go she accompanies me. She has become very dependent on me which worries me. What if I die suddenly? Even Abida herself is afraid something could happen to me. She needs to get to stand on her own feet.

I have two friends who support me a lot and listen to me: Nadima and my friend and neighbour Naila. I can sit and talk to them about what is going on and what happened in the past. Sometimes I just want to run away and never come back but you can never run away from your life. Instead I share my heart with them. Yesterday I talked to Naila.

She almost has the same story. Her husband left her after 20 years of marriage. We talk, make jokes and relax together. We don’t always talk about our stories but meet and go out together when we have money. We like to sit and have a cup of coffee or a pizza.

I don’t worry when I don’t have any money. I am grateful for what I have. I am fine here in Delft. It is small, but life goes on. I don’t want arguments anymore. My one wish is to get a house of my own. I am saving up money. I want to find a house here in Delft and then ask for government subsidies. I hope to stay here in the Wendy house of my parents for only one more year. My own house would be precious. I could do what I want and relax. I wouldn’t have to try to please other people anymore. When more than one family lives in one place it tends to cause conflicts. When you don’t have your house people think they can do what they want with you. But I know what’s right and I won’t

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let people walk over me. I got enough of that. One day I’ll get my own house and be ok.

I am dreaming of having a house and adopting a son. I like taking care of children. I am proud to be a mother and proud of my daughters and the two good sons in law who spoil me and my daughters.

I love my work as a home visitor. I am glad I can motivate and help parents and grandparents to get their children ready for school even though there is no money in the house. In our community it is often the grandmother who raises the child or spends most time with the small children because mothers have to work hard. I am proud that I can contribute so that children are lovingly cared for.

From my own experience I have learnt how important good education is. I believe you need Matric to have better opportunities in life. However, it is not only about the progress in learning. When I come to a home base I first ask how they are doing. It is important to me to build trust and relationships with the parents so that they can feel comfortable to talk about their challenges. A lot of parents have become my friends and shared their stories with me.

My vision for my community is that we can live together in peace and harmony and that we as neighbours, as a community look after each other’s children.

When I look back at my life I see I had to empower myself. I had to go to work. I believe when you are empowered, things will go right. I did make a mistake when I got married and it took me many years to get out of the situation, but IT’S NEVER TOO LATE TO MAKE A CHANGE IN YOUR LIFE!

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STAND UP FOR YOUR RIGHTS! Nazeema Nadatt’s story

I

was born in 1965 the third born of four children. My sister was the eldest, followed by my brother then myself and lastly our younger brother. We were raised in a traditional Muslim home. For the first eight years of my life we stayed in Claremont in the Southern Suburbs of Cape Town. Both my grandmothers from my father’s and my mother’s side had lived all their lives in Claremont. We stayed with my father’s mother in her house in Second Avenue. We liked living there; it was a quiet and safe area. Claremont was declared a ‘White Area’; we were not allowed to stay there anymore (by the Group Areas Act) and had to relocate to Manenberg in the Cape Flats in the early 1970s. In the 1970s Manenberg was quiet. Now it is notorious for drugs, gangs, robberies and gunfights.

When we were small, our father drank a lot. He was a very jealous man. He did not tolerate any conversations between my mother and other men. When my mother came home from work, he would hit her. We kids would hide under our beds in our room because we were so afraid. We always wondered ‘Why does daddy hit mommy like that?’ He did not only hurt our mother. He physically abused us as well. When we came from school our father hit us, telling us to clean the house. Every time there was no money for wine he would beat us. He would ask my mom for money for alcohol and often sent us to buy him some. If we refused to get it for him he would hurt us badly. He threw us against the wall. When my siblings grew older, they didn’t let him beat them anymore but started to defend themselves and hit back.

My father got so angry at them that he threw them out of the house. He locked them out so that they were forced to sleep on the streets. My eldest brother Suleiman then had to survive on his own. He started stealing and taking drugs. Nobody wanted to employ him because he would steal from his employers. He stole cars and broke into houses. Eventually he was caught by the police, brought to trial and sent to prison. My brother blamed our father for having chased him out of the house which led to the mess.

My sister however was working and took her own path. She got married and had her own safe home together with her husband. As my father continued beating us up, we often ran to her house and stayed there for several days. Since it happened frequently my sister said we had to do something about it. She took us to the social worker who asked us many questions about how our father was abusing us. We explained our situation and they called our mother in. They gave her a letter saying that she should call the police the next time our father beats her or us as children. The police would then arrest him and lay a charge against him. When my father did not stop beating us and our mom, she called the police. We all went to court, testified and he was sent to prison for about two years. I dropped out of school when I was 16 years old because my young brother and I had to work and contribute money to sustain our family. Our mother did not earn much at the Laundromat where she was working, at the time. I first worked at a wine restaurant in Cape Town. Serving and selling alcohol is not allowed to us Muslims but we needed the money so badly, that I had to accept the job until I got work in a clothing factory in Woodstock.

Prison changed my father. He never expected that his wife and children would actually let him go to prison. By no means did he want to go back there. When my dad came out he wanted to be a better father and promised to never beat us and our mother again. He

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gradually stopped drinking and apologized for what he had done. He told us how much he loved us. When we asked why he had been so violent, he said he didn’t know why. He couldn’t understand it himself. I wanted to have a good relationship with my dad. I tried my best and finally forgave him. I was glad that he had become a better father. We were able to relate more openly and honestly to each other.

At the age of nineteen I met my husband and fell pregnant. We soon got married and I gave up my job. At that time my eldest brother was still in prison. My mother, my siblings and I used to visit him a lot and told him about our dad’s amazing transformation. We told him that our father did not want to hurt us and that he had repented and was trying to do his best now. Yet for my brother it was more difficult to acknowledge our father’s change since our dad never visited him in prison. He was probably feeling guilty and feared the confrontation with Suleiman. Through the continuous encounters in prison and the way we had gone through those tough days, the relationships in our family grew closer and stronger.

My father was a driver and had a bad accident that resulted in a six-week stay in hospital. He recovered from the injuries. When I gave birth to my firstborn son, he was diagnosed with lung cancer. For the next two years he went in and out of the hospital a number of times.

When we visited our brother in prison on L’Abarang, an important holiday for us Muslims, he cried and told us he only wanted to get out of prison. My grandmother did her best and finally got him released before the end of his sentence. He had changed as well. As soon as he was free he asked my mother for her forgiveness for the sorrow that he had caused her. My father was lying in hospital then and was about to die. We all went to the hospital and my father and my brother reconciled. My brother apologized for hitting my father and my father asked forgiveness for having chased him out of the house. Little later our father passed away.

At that time I was pregnant with my daughter, our second child. Suleiman soon got married to a wonderful lady and settled down with his own family.

Compared to my parent’s marriage, my husband and I never had major problems in our marriage. He doesn’t drink. He has been there for me and the children. We have two sons and two daughters. He helps with the cleaning. He never kept me back; he trusts me. I can go out a lot. When something upset me I can become very aggressive and shout and swear at my husband and children. I usually do not have much patience, when my children do not do what I asked them to.

The deepest anger I felt was when my two sons turned to drugs. I asked myself: ‘Why must I get that same anger that my mother had with my father, now with my two sons?’

My eldest son dropped out of school when he was 17 years old. He wanted to stay with my brother in-law in Mitchell’s Plain. I was against that idea because my brother-in-law was a drug dealer. My husband however did not understand. It was his brother and he would not throw the stuff into his mouth. My husband didn’t expect that our son would actually go on drugs, so we let him stay at his uncle’s place. About one year later a neighbour told us that he was on drugs. We called him back home.

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At first he did not want to come because his uncle used to give him money for drugs.

We finally brought him back home and we confronted him. My husband hit him until he admitted he was on tick. In order to get money for more drugs he started stealing. We confronted him again. My husband tried to discipline him. We wanted to send him to rehab but he said he could help himself. We asked him how he would do that, but got no answer.

We could not force him. He had to make his own decision. When his girlfriend fell pregnant, they married and stayed in the Wendy house at the back of our house for six years. My eldest son was in and out of jail for taking drugs. My eldest brother Suleiman would support me and go to court with me. My husband never went to visit him in prison, but I, as a mother decided to always stand with my child and support my son. One day he would have to be a role model for his own children. His girlfriend, now wife, fell pregnant for the second time and my husband told our son to either change his ways or leave the house.

In our anger and desperation we were sometimes harsh to him but he never hit us back or reported us to the police. We hit him and asked him: ‘Why do you do this?’ He said he didn’t know. I tried to help him. I told him that his family needed him. He had to provide for them.

Eventually he made his own way out of the vicious cycle of taking drugs. He is fine now. I am glad he managed to get out. He is not taking any drugs anymore. Today he is 30 years old, has a job and is a father of three sons. He has become responsible for his own family. It makes me feel happy and secure. It also proves that there is hope for those who want to break out of the cycle. We must not give up on our children. They can still make it. I have seen it happen. My son’s first born is eleven years old and lives with me. I have raised him like my own son due to the difficulties my son was in at the time when he was a baby. Now he wants to stay with me.

My youngest son is 24 years old. He was on drugs for three years. He used to take drugs with his friends outside. We could not do much about it. I tried to make him realize that he was on the wrong path by ignoring him. He ate and lived in the house but I withdrew from him. My husband tried beating him sometimes but it all depended on my son’s choices. He needed to make a strong decision and stick to it. Eight months ago he took that decision. He said to himself that he doesn’t have a father or mother if he keeps taking drugs. Fortunately he chose his family before his friends. He is still staying with us and I am glad that he made it out as well. I think what drew my sons into drugs were the wrong friends. I am grateful that none of my kids ever joined a gang. I am sure that is one factor that makes it easier to get away from the drugs that you can get so easily in our community.

I have always liked to be very close to children. When my youngest daughter was in Grade Two I started working for her school preparing food for the children in The Hague. I made their porridge in the morning and their lunch for the break. The school would only give me the money to buy rice. At the time schools did not value healthy food that much. Any vegetables and spices that I wanted to add I bought from my own pocket. I did not earn a lot there; only R800 per month but I did not mind. I wanted to give these kids the best meal I could. For me it was a wonderful experience to give a plate of food to the children and get a child’s big smile and a happy ‘Thank you’ in return. This smile was like a special blessing from God to me. I worked there for 13 years.

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Builing a Community - 57

My eldest daughter fell pregnant and married when she was 19 years old. Her husband is two years older and they live at her mother in law’s place. She gave birth to two children. My youngest daughter Tasnim fell pregnant when she was only 15 years old. The worst was that I only found out when she was already five months pregnant. We used to visit a friend. My daughter was like a child in the house. A man also used to go there, a lot but I had no idea that my daughter and he were getting involved. She did not tell me anything. Only on L’Abarang I noticed that her stomach had grown. I got very upset. I asked her what that was. She said: ‘Nothing’. I started shouting and swearing at her. She just looked at me. Then I asked her again and she said: ‘Mommy, I am pregnant.’ L’Abarang is a feast but I could not eat anything I was just crying the whole day. I also found out that she hadn’t been going to school since she knew she was pregnant. Instead she went to her sister’s and spent the whole day there while I thought she was at school. They did not want to tell me that she was pregnant because they were too scared of my reaction. They were worried that I could fall sick or die. It was a great pain for me as a mother that my daughters had not trusted me enough to talk to me about it.

We had to handle the situation. My daughter assured me that she was going to be fine; that the man would take care of her and the child. I was also upset because she was so young and he was 40. I was so scared that the man would leave her alone with the child and then she would have to struggle on her own. Tasnim called the father of the child and he came to talk to me and my husband. He wanted to marry her. He promised to provide for her and the child. They got married and she gave birth to a baby girl. Tasnim moved with him and the baby into our Wendy house at the back. It was difficult at first, but as we got to know the man better I could accept him. He kept his promise. I don’t have any problems with him. I am proud that he is providing for them. Tasnim studied at night for a while but then stopped again without finishing school.

ROUWAYDA BAKER

R

ouwayda Baker was born in 1964 in Groote Schuur Hospital. Back in Constantia, I was one year old when we moved from there to Heideveld, I stayed there my whole childhood and we were 7 children, 2 boys and 5 girls. I attended Dagbreek Primary School and then Heideveld High school. After a month of dropping out of high school in 1980 I then worked in a clothing factory called Rex Trueform till they closed down in 1995. I worked there for 25 years and during that period my first son was born.

I stayed in Heideveld for 27 years and in 1993 I moved to Delft into my own house and that particular area I moved in was called The Hague, Delft Phase 3.

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Then, just a few houses were built in that area because the shooting range was still open.

When they would practice shooting the house would shake due to the soft foundations that the house was built on..

The bush of evil was still here, lots of snakes and insects were found in the homes of people and they would come in when you leave your doors and windows open. There were a lot of incidents of dead bodies found in the bushes.

The Hague was previously known as a graveyard, it was a ghost town, so people have a tendency to burn incense sticks to lure the ghost out of the homes.

There were no shopping centres in Delft and people had to go to Bellville, Parow or Mitchells Plain to do their shopping because there was only a few house-shops in the area. There

Tasnim was 17 years old when Lameez and Julita from Sakha Isizwe, a development organization that partners with the Western Cape Foundation for Community Work (FCW), asked her whether she would like to work as a home visitor on their Family in Focus Programme. She sent her CV and waited for their call for an interview at the library.

When they did, I went to the interview with her. They also asked me for my CV, I got the job because she was too young. At first I was a bit insecure wondering if I would be good enough.

Could I really knock on somebody’s door and ask questions and share what I know and what I have learnt about raising and teaching children in their early years? With the trainings on early childhood development and the personal development workshops that Sakha Isizwe facilitated, I became more confident.

On 2 August 2012 a taxi van hit the car in which my grandson Zuhier was in, on his way back from primary school. My eldest daughter called me in complete shock. She only knew that her son was in an accident. I got so nervous; I shouted and rushed to my daughter. We were worried but had no idea of how serious it was and that he was actually struggling for his young life. He was only six years old. We expected him to have broken his arm or leg but not that he could have been badly injured. My daughter left her little baby with her sister in law and went to the scene at N2 Gateway. They told her the children had been taken to hospital and one child was being transported by a helicopter due to his critical status. Nobody gave us an accurate answer about who was taken to which hospital.

My daughter, her husband and I decided to ask the officers at the police station but none of them knew where their son was. Some children had been taken to the Red Cross Hospital others to Tygerberg. We had to find him ourselves. When we arrived at Tygerberg,

weren’t any schools, churches or mosques in the area. Children had to travel to schools in Voorbrug or Roosendal or as far as Belhar. I was on the committee of the planning of The Haque Primary School. On the plans of the schools there was a pool included but when it was completed there wasn’t any pool to be seen.

I met my husband in Delft, got married in 2005 and this coming December I will be married for 9 years on December the 2nd. I would be staying in Delft for 21 years. But the area is not the same anymore – more people from different places, lots of crime and gangsterism, with lots of violence.

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the receptionist didn’t find him on the computer system. We rushed to the emergency ward. There we had to wait while the nurse phoned her colleague to inquire whether a boy had come in. I looked at her face and started to panic. I felt a coldness inside and around me. The sister turned back to us and told us that a boy had just come in by helicopter. We should wait. She would bring us to him to see whether he was our son.

Tears started streaming down my cheeks. When she opened the curtain and I saw him lying there I broke down. Our child was not breathing anymore. He was dead. He didn’t look badly injured. He just had a wound on his head. Apparently he had been thrown out of the car due to the crash and hit the pavement with his little head. He died on the way to the hospital. I could hardly believe it. He had left the house like every morning. But today he didn’t come back and he will never return. He died alone. It breaks my heart. How did he struggle? Was he in terrible pain?

Did he cry or call for his mommy? We were not there for him. It’s still a big pain in my heart.

We are still missing him. His mother moved into another house, but his bed is still there. We will always miss our Zuhier.

It was not the only great loss I experienced in the last two years. My sister and my mother wanted to go to Durban together. On the way our mother got sick. She went straight to the hospital when they reached Durban. My sister informed me and asked me not to panic but to pray for her. Sadly she didn’t get better. My siblings and I got more worried and begged my sister to bring our mommy back home but her state of health was too critical. She never recovered. On 5 September my brother called me, I was at my daughter’s house, when I got the message that she had passed away I couldn’t contain myself anymore. My daughter gave me sugar water and told me to be strong. Together with my siblings we went to mourn at the house of our youngest brother. Our mother had died far from home. We had to pay an expensive flight to have the body brought down to Cape Town. When my mother left us I felt so empty. She had supported me a lot after Zuhier’s accident.

We all struggled with the emptiness that we felt after our mom had passed away. She had always been there for us as children. For our eldest brother Suleiman it was unbearable. He had been very close with her. He was very down, saying that he missed mommy and that she was the one who always visited him in prison and gave him some money. He was devastated with sadness.

He couldn’t cope with her death. He couldn’t believe it. At the age of 77 she had still been fine before she left. She didn’t die of the asthma that she suffered with all her life; she died of too much sugar in her blood.

On the 30th of November I met with Suleiman to plan our family gathering for the 100 days after our mother’s passing away. After we were done he said goodbye, went to his car and waved at me before he drove off. This was the last time I saw him alive. The next day his wife called me saying that he was sick and just lying in his bed. When I arrived at their home he was already dead.

He had suffered a heart attack. I was overwhelmed by pain when I saw him lying there. His face was still nice. He looked as if he was just sleeping. I loved him dearly. He had helped me a lot with the funeral of my grandson. My heart had no time to recover from the other two losses. I had been very closely connected to all of them: Zuhier, my mother and Suleiman, my brother.

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In my deep sadness Molly, a trainer from FCW gave me a lot of support. She was so precious. When I came in to the FCW modules training crying, she let me sit and cry. She would cuddle and comfort me like a loving mother. That helped me to get through the sad times. My husband tried to comfort me as well, when I was crying. ‘You had a good mother and brother. I know you miss your mommy’, he said.

Sikh Isizwe partners with the Institute for Healing of Memories in order to give people from the community including all home visitors the chance to participate in a Healing of Memories workshop. Last year, they sent me to one. It was a very new feeling to me. I had never gone on a weekend away. We stayed in a nice place, could relax and have good food and the sessions during the day. I did not have to think about any ‘To-Do’s’, but was free to be myself. There I learnt how to express myself.

I first listened to the stories of other participants and realized that their problems were at least as big as mine. I felt free to talk about my own painful past. After sharing my life story with the people of my small group I felt different in myself. It was a great feeling, I felt somehow clear now. I liked creating my own peace symbol out of clay and a candle. The burning of the paper, on which I wrote what I wanted to leave behind, what I had overcome on this workshop, was also helpful. I decided that I would not let the losses keep me back and I would go on with my life. On that day I also left the swearing and shouting behind.

I decided to watch my tone when I am angry. The workshop changed me and my family.

I was not as aggressive anymore. I try my best not to shout and swear at my husband and children. The relationship with my husband got better. I had never spoken to my husband or my children about my childhood or my past in general. I started to understand that I need to share feelings with my friends and people who are close to me.

When I came back from the workshop I showed my husband the picture I had drawn and told him what I went through as a child. It changed us. Even my husband noticed that immediately. After the first workshop, I actually went to more Healing of Memories workshops. I told my husband how good the workshops are. It was not nice what I experienced as a child but we took an important step to make a change: We went to the social worker which resulted in my father going to prison at first, but it also broke the bad cycle of his alcohol addiction and made him change to the better. It taught me that I need to stand up for my rights. Not let things happen. If they do happen, make a difference. Often we are so scared to step up because we don’t know what is going to happen afterwards. But don’t just sit and wait, do something to change your situation. Get the help you need. STAND UP FOR YOUR RIGHTS! I am proud, of that I was strong enough to go through all the sadness I had to face in my life, especially the loss of my dear grandson, mother and brother. I am strong. I think another person would not have been able to bear all this. Losing family members is so painful but the God I believe in, made me strong. He saw that I would handle it. I am happy that my youngest daughter Tasnim and her little family are doing well. The relationship with her husband is going well and they want to build their own house now.

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She is 19 years old and started working as a home visitor for the Delft Family in Focus Programme. Julita is motivating her to go back to school next year to do her matric. Living in Delft is fine with me. Delft is not as bad as other places. We rarely have gang violence in our area but every now and then guys from Belhar run over to here when they are fleeing from the police or other gangs. In my community I like helping people in need. Children especially are vulnerable. They and their parents need support. I am glad that I can help parents prepare their children for school and share how they can use what they have around the house to educate their child.

Furthermore the programme gives me the opportunity to visit families at home and make sure the children are taken care of. In case the parents physically abuse their children I can intervene and talk to the parents; or if it does not help I can refer them to the social worker or other contacts in Delft who can help. Parents are not supposed to beat their children, even when they are doing wrong or are taking drugs. Instead we as parents should stand by our children, talk to them and help them. Beating them will only push them further away. We need to tell our children every day that we love them.

For the future I wish my husband, my children and grandchildren to be happy. I wish we could grow closer to each other. I want to be a better person for my family and friends and for my community in Delft. I want to share my love with them.

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I AM NOLENE, NOT JUST FOR MYSELF BUT FOR THE WORLD! Nolene Botsheleng’s story

M

y name is Nolene Botsheleng. After years of moving from one place to another, I moved here to Delft five years ago because my husband bought a house. At first I was very afraid of moving into Delft, a community that is notorious for its high crime rates, gangs and gunfights. For the first two years I struggled badly to accept the new circumstances. I had to get used to the new environment, the different cultures that live together in the neighbourhood: ‘coloureds’, ‘blacks’ and foreigners. I had come from a community that was predominantly inhabited by ‘coloured’ people. Some of my old friends even refused to visit me in my new home. But now my neighbours have become my dear friends. They know and respect me and we helped each other when somebody need help. Life is not easy, difficult challenges are awaiting me every day but “I want to make a difference, I am Nolene not just for myself but for the world”.

My story begins with the fact that I was given away by my mother as a new-born little baby.

I grew up as a foster child often treated as the stepdaughter with little love and compassion. I was beaten for the slightest mistakes and sent from one family to another. The question why I had been given away by my mother worried me the most: “Am I not loveable? What is wrong with me? Why did my mother not want me?” I grew up believing I was not as good as others.

I felt worthless and alone. I had no idea who my parents were. I only knew their names.

At the age of nine, I had a glass splinter in my foot, but nobody in my foster family cared, my leg got infected, inflamed and swelled to the extreme. Once my stepbrother got irritated with me because of my injury. I was too slow to respond to his father call when he asked me to. In his anger he banged my leg against the edge of the table with his army boots. I passed out and fell into a coma. It almost cost me my life but I wanted to live. I spent months in hospital struggling for survival and slowly recovered. I only got out of hospital after my tenth birthday. It’s a miracle that I am healthy today. The only thing that reminds me of this horrifying experience is the fact that I walk with a limp.

When I was 13 years old I was transferred to another family and stayed with them until I attained full age. They asked me questions about my parents but I couldn’t tell them more than their names. Amazingly they knew my father. They told me that he passed their house every day. I was overwhelmed and excited to meet my dad. They introduced me to him and I got to know my three half-sisters and my older brother. Now I had a dad and he spoiled me.

He took me out for some fun activities. He went with me up Table Mountain by cable car and made me feel special. To my deep sadness he passed away only two years after I met him. I was parentless again. Since my brother was in jail when we buried our dad and the relationship with my sisters was not close, I was on my own again.

When I was beaten as a child I used to run away, I couldn’t speak. ‘A child must be seen not heard’ was what people said. Children were not listened to. It was as if I didn’t have a voice. Even when I was asked how I was, I couldn’t open up. I would just say ‘I’m fine’. I didn’t believe that anyone could really help me. I would just cry and keep quiet. One day I could not take it anymore and decided to end my life. I ran to the beach to drown myself in the ocean but when I got there I looked at the roaring sea and changed my mind. I started crying and

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some friendly strangers who saw me took me to their home for one night. The next morning they brought me to the police who then took me back to my foster family. The first time I took a stand for myself was when I was 14 years old. I decided I had had enough. I went to the social worker who was responsible for me and told him: ‘No-one is going to beat me anymore!’ I wouldn’t tolerate my foster family abuse me any longer. The social worker said there was no way of putting me in another family. I had to stay until I would turn 18 and that I must not run away. I insisted they come with me to talk to the lady who beat me regularly.

We ended up making an agreement: She wouldn’t beat me any longer and I would go to school and not run away anymore. I had achieved something for myself. I stayed in this family until I turned 18. Then I moved to my aunt who had promised to take care of me but we didn’t get along well. I could never get it right. So I left and tried to go back to one of my earlier foster families but they did not want me there either. Finally a cousin opened her house to me.

Some of my friends from work at Pick and Pay Security, once invited me to a party at a nice flat in Sea Point. We drank and had a lot of fun and I simply lost track of time. I still had to go back home to Belhar. I left and took the train to Bellville station from there I had to board another train to Belhar. When I got to Bellville the last train home has left already.

I was stranded. There were no taxis at that time of night and I only had a little money in my pockets. Fear started rising in me. I phoned my friends at the flat but nobody could come to pick me up. I called my boyfriend Mervin and he told me to wait there for him. He would come to fetch me. While I was waiting at the abandoned and dark station a guy approached me. He asked me whether I was looking for a lift. He showed me his car keys. ‘Where are you staying? I’ll take you home.’ I shyly nodded and went with him. On our way to the car he told me I had to hold his hand so that we seemed to be boyfriend and girlfriend and didn’t look suspicious. Instead of taking me to his car he took me up to the hills, into the darkness.

He pushed me to the ground, there he raped me. After he was done he left me in the cold night. I was only nineteen years old, so vulnerable and naïve. When I got up and looked for help I met a bunch of street kids who showed me the way to the mall. The police came and asked me to describe him. I tried my best but didn’t know the man. After the police had left I waited in the mall until the dawn and went home crying. When my boyfriend saw me he asked me where I had been. He had gone to the station to fetch me but did not found me.

I was so afraid he might not believe me but think that I had cheated on him. I told him the whole story of what had happened and then went to bath and put on new clothes. Exhausted I lay down in bed. He came and caressed me saying that everything was going to be alright.

Then he had sex with me right there. He was only interested in my body not in me, Nolene.

I was already broken when I went into my first marriage. I was blaming myself for what happened and extremely insecure about myself. Mervin was like a friend to me. He had shown me affection and listened to me. We had quickly started dating and gotten engaged in the same year. In August 1996 we got married and I gave birth to our first born, a son Austin in the same year. Everything happened so fast. Before I realised what was happening I was a wife and mother. I didn’t have any professional support in dealing with the rape experience. I hadn’t gotten over the rape, instead I had to function as a wife and take good care of my baby.

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In the midst of all this a colleague of mine had found my mother and arranged a meeting for me. I was not much interested in her. She came just a little too late. I was 21 years old by then. Where had she been all these years? Had she never even thought of me? Why would she come now after all this had happened? I told her I didn’t want her in my life. I could not let her into my heart. I was too bitter and angry. We went our separate ways again.

Until my daughter Nikita was born two years later. Then my mother appeared again and I decided to take her in since she was homeless. It was a mistake. She only made things worse being drunk most of the times. Mervin was also drinking a lot. He was little concerned with me and the kids and treated me as if I was worth nothing. We could not rely on him. He didn’t care much about bringing food to the table. I had to work myself even though the kids were still small. I often took double-shifts. My children hardly saw me. I had to keep myself busy. Was I the only responsible person in this household? I eventually kicked my mother out of the house. It had become unbearable and she was not much of a help anyways. The only person who understood me was my mother in law. Since I did not have my own mother I appreciated her a lot. She knew her son and covered up for me a lot.

Mervin didn’t give me love nor stability. I tried to escape this reality by working as much as I could and at times, by drinking. Why did I stay with him even though he treated me badly? I thought I might not get another boyfriend. Mervin said the same especially after I had given birth to our two children. He told me I wasn’t beautiful anymore and that nobody would want me. I believed that I was simply destined to be unhappy. First my mother gave me away then my father died and now I had to stay with a husband who didn’t love me. I didn’t think much about me, I had nearly given up on myself. On the outside I could still uphold my mask acting strongly, but inside I just felt broken and feared the judgment of other people.

Keeping my inner struggles to myself seemed to be the best strategy to cope with life but God had a bigger purpose for my life.

In 2000, I was working as a radio controller for a security company when my boss told me about the new inspector who was starting to work with us. On his first day he knocked at my office door and we clicked instantly. To me he was like a God-sent angel. I didn’t believe in love at first sight but Joseph won my heart within minutes, a friendly and open man. We started dating and our relationship grew deeper and stronger. I had difficulty believing that he really loved me… ME? He - a well-educated and highly qualified man working for a security company. I had dropped out of school in Standard Seven – he had finished Matric.

I never expected someone like him would commit to love me. I hardly loved myself but lived in great denial of my own feelings however knowing that I had love to give. I was still in my first marriage at that point. I needed someone to rescue me. We were dating secretly. I had to lie to my husband but Joseph eventually helped me to get out of my abusive marriage. After I had moved out of the house and wanted a divorce, the most difficult five years of my life started. Mervin wanted to keep the children by all possible means. In 2005, after five years of separation and struggle for the guardianship of our two children, we finally got divorced and I got custody of our kids.

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Builing a Community - 69

Joseph changed my life dramatically for the better. He gave me the life I had always wanted. He listens to me, understand me, says that he loves me and means it. Whereas my first husband was mainly thinking about himself, drank and didn’t care much about me.

Joseph cares and provides even for the two children that are not his. Joseph is empathetic and composed. When he argues with the children he still keeps a calm tone to his voice. Over and over again I have asked him the same questions: ‘Why do you love me? What do you see in me that I can’t recognize? Can someone truly love me?’ All these times he has been so patient and caring with me, telling me over and over again how much he loves me, Nolene. His love encourages me. He helped me to stop drinking. He gets concerned even when I just have a glass of cider. He takes good care of me. I have found a real home. We have been together for fourteen years now. Jaden, our son is ten years old and a lovely boy. Two years ago we got married. I am so grateful for having Joseph in my life. He is a true blessing.

I gave my mother a second chance after the birth of Jaden. I took her in to help her but she went out to live on the streets again like her son, my brother. I reached out to her several times but she didn’t respond. It is her decision.

When my daughter Nikita was eleven years old she was raped by her cousin. My whole world fell to pieces when I realised it. The pain I felt was indescribable, I wouldn’t wish that pain on my worst enemies. It broke my heart that I hadn’t been able to protect my child. When she was born and I looked at her beautiful face holding her in my arms, I swore to myself that I would protect her. Now I hadn’t, I wasn’t there when it happened. I blamed myself for not being there and honestly speaking I am still blaming myself even though I know that I can’t be everywhere.

Life is not fair… This time I did seek counselling for my daughter and myself. Talking about the rape of my daughter also brought back other childhood memories. Images came flashing back into my mind. I was sexually abused by my uncle when I was young. Expressing and sharing my pain has helped me a lot in dealing with my own hurt and painful memories.

Unfortunately our family history has left hurtful traces on my children. They went through tough times with me and their father. My eldest son has decided to join a gang and sell drugs.

I see him almost every day but he can’t stay with us. It would put our home at risk of being attacked by another conflicting gang. I have tried to help him to get out but he has made his choice. Our relationship is difficult. I love him but I try to fight what he is doing. Last Sunday I had to bail him from jail. His gang boss paid for it and used me to get him free. I told Austin to keep himself out of trouble. I won’t go to court. He is turning 18 this year. What if I die and can’t help anymore? When is this going to end? I asked him: ‘For how long are you going to be like this? For the rest of your life?’ He said: ‘Yes.’ This is not what I intended for his life.

I wish I could open his eyes.

My daughter Nikita was twelve years old when she ran away from home. She developed a drug addiction and lived on the streets for almost two years. The police brought her back home several times but we would fight and she would run away the next morning. At times she called me from public phones saying that she was fine. I shouldn’t call the police if I loved her. Other times she would phone me and just shout and swear in her drug induced state. I just prayed that 68 - I am Nolene…

God would keep her safe. Today I regret that I did not go to look for her in Cape Town. We were both so angry, so I let her go. I did not ask others for more help. I still tried to pretend I was handling everything well. When Nikita was 14 years old she and some friends were caught by the police breaking into a house in Sea Point. In court she was sent to two years in the Child and Youth Care Centre in Elsie’s River. Her life looks almost like a deja-vu to me.

She experienced a lot of what I went through but I can’t understand why she took this route. I didn’t go on drugs, she did. I didn’t go on the streets, she went. I just wish she could have consulted me more and trusted me as a mother. She is my only daughter. I want to have a trusting relationship with her. She became a born again Christian recently. That gives me new joy and hope. I wish that she’ll come home to me when she gets out of the youth centre.

I made mistakes as a mother, I know. But I love my children and I want the best for them. I regret that I did not have a lot of time for the two when they were little. After Jaden was born I therefore decided to leave my job and be there for him during his early years.

Two and a half years ago I met my cousin Esme in Camps Bay. She asked me where I was working and how much I got paid there. I was working as a crèche teacher in Delft and earned R800 a month. She told me she was doing almost the same, early childhood development as a home visitor of Sakha Isizwe, and was earning slightly more. They were looking for someone.

She convinced me to give her my number and to wait for their call. When I got the phone call I thought that I wasn’t earning much but at least had a job. So instead of going I sent another jobless friend as a candidate. When she didn’t show up for the interview I was called again. I finally went and was accepted and hired as a home visitor of the Delft Family in the Focus Programme that I am still working for today. Through the work I have gained more confidence in myself again.

AKHONA KONANA

I

was born in the Eastern Cape in 1990. In 1993 my sister was born. My parents separated in 1996 and four yers later we moved from the Eastern Cape to Cape Town.

By 2002, my mom got employment and as a result we received a better education. A year before my matriculation in 2010, we experienced a death in the family due to HIV/Aids.

Financial problems meant that I had a to take a break for a year after matriculating, but a year later I happily began my first year at college/ university.

This year, 2014, I had to take another break from my studies as I fell preganant. Fortunately I took up the role as Home Visitor for Sakha Isizwe and look forward to my future.

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Sakha Isizwe encourages the personal growth of its staff members, we as the home visitors were all sent to a Healing of Memories workshop. When I went, I was nervous.

Everyone was given time to tell their life stories in small groups while the others were listening. I thought I would not say anything. I was all negative, but when I heard the stories of the others I could see that they were similar to mine and that I wasn’t the only person who didn’t have a father or mother. Listening to them opened my eyes and my heart to see and understand that life doesn’t revolve around me. I needed to move forward and couldn’t just sit in my own problems. I realized for the first time that I myself was the one who needed to make the change in my life. I had to step up even though I was not feeling well. I saw that there were good people out there who listened to me. Before I saw everyone as bad and set up against me and felt so lonely. Now I have found people who were interested and compassionate. I showed them the picture I had drawn of my house and my family sharing my story. The whole room cried with me that day.

Now I have brothers and sisters, a loving husband, my colleagues from Sakha Isizwe and the Healing of Memories Family, so many people who love and cares about me. I want to make a difference. If the light can shine on me, I want to share my light, share what I have. I love people. I became a people’s person. Healing is a journey and I needed to open up and tell others about my experiences. I would love my husband and my children to go to one of the workshops as well. I sent ten parents of the Delft Family in Focus Programme to a Healing of Memories workshop and they couldn’t stop talking about the special experience that they had and the nice people they have met. I am glad when I see positive changes coming about as a result of my work in the community. It gives me enough energy to get up the next day and keep on going.

With the Healing of Memories workshop I also learnt to listen and talk, to share pain and feel with other people. Now I want to be a role model for children. I see it as my purpose to encourage other women to take a stand for themselves, saying that ‘enough is enough’. You don’t have to accept being treated without dignity. You have to speak up and take your life back. My vision is to see the women and children of my community empowered. I want to encourage others by telling my story. If this can happen for me they are also able to change their lives. I learnt that life is about people, about loving and accepting and trusting people. I want to give and share the positive things that are lifegiving. Life is good if you make positive choices.

Everyday life is still challenging and therefore I thank God every morning when I wake up and when I go to bed safe. A lot of obstacles have come my way but I am still standing.

My faith in God has also given me the power to move on in difficult times. I believe that He doesn’t give us a burden too heavy that we cannot carry and that He provides what I need.

When God takes me to heaven I want to have done something positive for my community.

Now I have came to understand that it is for a reason that I stay in Delft and that I can make a difference where I am. I think I am at the right place at the right time. I am not that afraid anymore. During the day I feel safe to walk through Delft, I can survive here for another 50 70 - I am Nolene…

Builing a Community - 73

years. I have made this my home. My youngest son Jaden at times tells me that he is going to be a rich man and is going to give me a house in a better place. He also wants to make a difference and leave a legacy like Mandela did. Oh yes, he has my sense of humour.

Despite all the pain that I went through and the situation my children are in today I do have hope for them. Nikita is coming out in January next year. She is very positive and has big dreams. She wants to finish school and go to college. I am so proud of her and I won’t stop encouraging Austin. He is still young and I pray that he might eventually find his way to a better future. I do everything to make my children proud of me. And see where I am today: When I walk through my neighbourhood the children call me ‘Juffrou’ - Afrikaans for ‘teacher’. They respect me for what I do and for who I am. I would have never imagined that a school-drop out like me could be called a teacher. My story is now written in a book. It is real, despite everything that has happened and where I came from. I must even thank my mother for giving me away. She gave me to the people. It was not in vain but I am leaving a legacy, a testimony that is put on record. I am ready to share my story with the world.

“I AM NOLENE NOT JUST FOR MYSELF BUT FOR THE WORLD!”

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I NEVER THOUGHT I HAD A STORY...

Nthabiseng Mohobo’s story

I

am the forth born of seven children. My father is from Lesotho and my mother from Bloemfontein, the Capital of Free State. In my mother tongue Sothu, Nthabiseng means ‘rejoice’. For the first years of my life our family lived in Bloemfontein the city that I consider my hometown. My mother was a domestic worker for a ‘white’ family in town. Under the apartheid regime we as her kids were never allowed to be seen at her workplace. Even though the children of the ‘white’ family were about our age we could never play with them. We had no relationship with them. Only sometimes my mom’s boss would give her some left over food to take home for us. That was always good food! We were living in the location in the outskirts of the city as the apartheid regime had ordered the resettlement of all ‘non-white’ people out of the towns and cities into so called homelands. My mother always had to carry a pass, when she went to town.

‘Blacks’ weren’t allowed to go to town without permits otherwise one could really get into trouble.

I grew up fearing ‘white’ people. I remember my grandmother secretly ran a business selling alcohol. When the police came we had to hide everything quickly. ‘Blacks’ weren’t allowed to buy hard liquor. Growing up under apartheid, racial restrictions were part of our everyday life. There were certain times we had to be out of town. We were only allowed to go to certain shops. We respected the rules. We accepted the lie that ‘we’ were nothing and ‘they’ were simply better than us. We never talked about apartheid at home. It was our reality and we were busy trying to survive.

My dad worked as an electrician, when payday came he would use up the money for his alcohol. It was his monthly routine which ruined our family. He use to come home late and talk and swear throughout the night. None of us could sleep because he was too loud until he finally fell asleep on the chair. When he woke up the next day he never remembered anything. Luckily he did not beat us even though I heard that he used to hit my mom before I was born.

Due to my father’s abusive drinking habits and financial problems we as siblings didn’t grow up together and our mother couldn’t take care of all of us. Only the third and the fifth born were raised by our parents. The two eldest were staying with my aunt in Kimberly. My two youngest siblings and I moved in with my grandmother in the Eastern Cape, when I was 13 until she passed away three years later in 1994. I remember that year well. I remember the first time shortly after the liberation that I went to a Fish ’n’ Chips Take Away shop which had been ‘For Whites Only’ before. I lined up having a ‘white’ person standing in front and behind me. It was a special feeling.

We were free now. This were one of my best Fish ‘n’ Chips I ever had. I really felt the freedom.

Right before the first free elections my parents moved to Lesotho and my two younger siblings moved with me to Ladybrand at the border in order to live closer to our parents. From then I had to look after them on my own. My brother was nine and my sister was six years old - just about to start primary school. I had to go work to sustain myself and my siblings. I had to pay for everything, the rent, the food, the toiletries and the clothes. I worked hard: at the supermarket after school during the week and as a waitress on weekends. In my teenage years I went on a lot of demonstrations, the so called ‘Toyi-Toyis’ with other students. We finally had a voice that could be heard. We went on the streets to demand better education. At times we had to face the police or run away, but I was excited that we could express our positions. I also became a bit rebellious and drank at times. Due to everything I had to manage I failed Matric. I had no money to repeat

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my matric. I was carrying the burden of raising my two siblings and it was hard. I parented my brother and sister even though I needed parents myself. Did I not also deserve the love and care of my father and mother?

Everyday life was stressful. I had to wake up early in the mornings, wash my sister and make breakfast. I would take them to school and go to high school myself. When we came back I had to wash their uniforms and cook supper for us. I had to teach them to become a little more independent: to polish their shoes and to wash the dishes on their own. On Saturdays I would cook food for them and tell them to do our daily chores on their own while I was at work. They would warm the food for lunch and tidy up our home. When I came back I bathed them and cooked dinner for us. When he got a little older I taught my young brother to cook the basic dishes, like pap and rice. It was too much work for me to do it on my own, particularly when I worked night shifts. Then I would return home at around midnight when the two were already asleep. I felt abandoned, but I had to be strong. The two young ones depended on me. During my school holidays in Standard Eight and Standard Nine I was working fulltime and my brother and sister stayed with my parents in Lesotho. There was not much time to question our circumstances or to talk about them. We believed there was no alternative at the time. My mother was trying to help us where she could. She was always looking for job opportunities and she used every chance she got to work and at times brought some money to support us but it was never enough. Was there any way to improve our living conditions?

My cousin worked in an orphanage and I sometimes visited her there. When I looked at these orphans I saw that they ate tasty food, were wearing beautiful clothes and had the opportunity to attend a good school. I started wondering whether I could ask my cousin to take me in as one of them. I thought I would be better off living the life of an orphan than the life of an abandoned child of poor parent. What would I have done with my siblings? I could not just think of myself.

I had to make sure they were taken care of. It remained a silent wish in my heart. I never dared asking my cousin.

In all this desperate darkness and loneliness there were people who did their best to help us.

The owner of the room we rented was my teacher from school. Many times he brought us food or other supplies. When the money was not sufficient to buy our bread they helped us out. They treated us as their children. We are still in contact with them and will forever be grateful for their support and love.

In 1994 I was allowed to cast my vote in the presidential elections for the very first time of my life. I was very aware of how special this moment was. I knew my mother and grandmother weren’t allowed to vote for nearly their whole lives. On that day I also voted for them. It felt so good to exercise my right as a citizen. I realized that apartheid had affected my parents a lot more than me. I had not even been aware of what was going on in the ‘white’ suburbs where my parents had to work and faced racial discrimination and abuse. We lived isolated in our location to which no ‘white’ people would come unless they were policemen. Now everybody had rights.

When in 2001 the date of my Matric ball came closer I deeply desired to get a beautiful new dress and have my parents accompany me to the ball like parents usually do. Sadly my mother Building and Healing a Community - 77

did not have enough money for me to buy a dress and she also ended up not escorting me to the ball. Instead I borrowed a dress from my friend and went with her parents. I thought to myself.

‘That’s your reality, you are just poor. If you want more, you need to work harder.’ After I had failed Matric, I swopped my part time job at the supermarket for a full time job and worked primarily to sustain my siblings who were still attending school. Life went on, until my mother passed away in 2003. The whole family gathered for the funeral. She was buried in Lesotho. My aunts and relatives contributed to cover the expenses. My mother’s funeral was the last time I had contact with my dad for a very long time. After her death I was only left with my brother who was in high school. My youngest sister went to stay in Lesotho with my father and the two other siblings who had been raised by our parents. For a whole year my youngest sister, did not attend school. Then our eldest sister who had in the meantime found a job at a photo shop took her in, to send her to school again.

Eventually my brother got a bursary to study panel beating at a polytechnic school in Bloemfontein. Everything was paid for: his study fees, his accommodation and his food. There was no need for me to stay in Ladybrand anymore and I decided to try to get a bursary or a study loan for myself in Bloemfontein. I applied to several but I didn’t get any, so I had to start working again.

It took me six months to find a job. In 2006 when waitresses were recruited for a new restaurant in Cape Town, I decided to take the opportunity to go. I felt I had to make a change in my life and get out of Bloemfontein. I packed my bag and started a new season of my life. My siblings were taken care of: My brother had the bursary and my youngest sister who was 15 years old by then stayed with our eldest sister while I would support them by sending money for her school fees.

I fell in love with the city of Cape Town and decided to stay. At first I lived for three years in Parklands. Then after the restaurant closed I worked at an Internet café in Sea Point. I lived there for less than a year. The rents were too expensive. I couldn’t afford accommodation in Sea Point anymore and ended up moving to Delft four years ago. Since I had my job at that internet café, I would still travel all the way from Delft to Sea Point every day. Sometimes my boss would travel abroad without having paid me. It wasn’t the best job. Esme, a neighbour, was the first person who welcomed me in Delft. We became friends and she told me she had started working for the Delft Family in Focus Programme coordinated by Sakha Isizwe where she assisted parents of our Delft community in educating their young children at home. She thought I would fit in well there because I was always surrounded by children and loved them. She convinced me.

My voluntary work for Sakha Isizwe brought me to experience a Healing of Memories workshop. Healing? I had no idea I needed it before I actually went on a weekend workshop.

When I started sharing my story I realized how angry I still was at my parents, especially my dad.

I blamed my father for our misery. He could have been more responsible and caring for us, as his family. He did not give us what we deserved and seemingly could not have cared less about our needs. How could he have been so self-centred? I hated him and I did not care about him just as he had not cared about us. I was wondering whether I should confront him the next time I saw him. Somebody said I could tell him how I felt. I never did. At the Healing of Memories I learnt that you cannot forget what happened but you can still forgive. I am still struggling with how to forgive my dad for playing his role as a father.

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Builing a Community - 81

The two eldest siblings who stayed at my aunt’s house also faced tough circumstances in their childhood. They were treated as stepchildren disadvantaged and abused. They were blamed for anything bad that happened in my aunt’s house. The other two my mother took care of however got a considerably better education. They were sent to university. My sister studied law and became a successful magistrate; my brother became an architect in Lesotho. I sometimes think that I could have become a good doctor if I had the opportunity to finish school and had more time to study.

I regret that I did not get the chances needed. Nevertheless I do not blame my mother for not having chosen me to stay with her. She probably had no choice. I imagine that if she had chosen me to stay with her and my sister had to raise our youngest siblings, it would have been hurtful for me, to see them suffer on their own. Maybe she wouldn’t have been as strong as I was. I am happy for her. It’s good that she was able to graduate from law school.

I realized that I can take my life into my own hands. Accept what happened in the past but move on from there. Realizing the power I have to turn my own life around was really important for me. Now I am saving up money to study to become a paramedic but as a volunteer of the Family in Focus Programme I only get a modest stipend. There is not a lot of money I could put aside. However one thing I know: I will eventually do my studies and work in the medical field.

A few weeks ago I went home to visit my father and my other siblings. I saw how happy my dad was to see me. I felt that I still loved him deep in my heart. After my mother’s death he stopped drinking. He is an old man now, living in a big house, and he seems a bit lonely. I felt for him. Our encounter touched my heart. I decided to stop blaming him, to be at peace with him.

Nowadays my siblings and I are united in our hearts. I have a very deep and trusting relationship with them. Especially with my little sister; we are very close. I am the first person she calls for advice whenever she is having a problem. Other times our elder sister tells me to speak to our little one when she has gone overboard with partying for instance. She deeply respects me and considers MORICA WILLIAMS

I

have been staying here in Delft for the past 13 years.

I was so afraid of living with different races. I was born in Bishop Lavis and stayed there for 20 years; I completed my school years there as well. I met my husband in Delft, had two kids, and I live in my own house.

We are living a new life; we have democracy and learning each others language. This is so beautiful to see and not to fear people with a different colour skin.

I ended up here due to my mother getting a RDP house in 1997and from there my life grew and I became an adult. Crime has become a norm in the area and there are no shocks when you hear about people being killed and raped, we have become desensitised. All is not lost. In the programme, we are trying to build a better life for children.

80 - I Never Thought I had a Story

my guidance. Our family is very close. When you see us you cannot tell that we suffered that much in our childhood. Sadly one of my brothers died of Meningitis four years ago but the rest of us are doing well. Seeing that my young brother has become a mechanic and my sister is going to college makes me happy and proud. At times when we sit together we remember the hard years and they affirm me saying that I raised them well. It was a heavy burden of responsibility but now I can look at it from another angle: Due to the experiences I went through I have become strong and brave. I had enough courage to come to Cape Town where I knew nobody and started off a completely new life.

When I think back of how South Africa has changed within the last 20 years I know it is much better than before. The stories about the past are still very painful but we have come far.

Then one could never speak up against a ‘white’ person. Now I am free to express my opinion and to stand up for my rights. Some ‘white’ people still hate us or look down on us but I also know that there are a lot of good ‘white’ people. I am grateful for our freedom.

As a home visitor of the Family in Focus Programme I now have the opportunity to encourage parents in my community here in Delft to be the best parents they can be. My strongest aim is to help them realize how precious they are and what an amazing role they can play in the lives of their children. I tell them how I grew up and especially single parents I tell how hard it was to raise my siblings on my own. I understand their struggles but I also know that it is possible. Most parents I meet are really open to talk and ask for advice. They appreciate my efforts to help them use what they have to give a healthy development to their children.

Sometimes it is stressful to convince parents to come to our workshops especially when we are not offering any material goods or at least a meal. Parents of my community at times do not understand the vital role they play as primary care givers for the development of their children.

They are often not aware of their potential to teach their kids at home using everyday items around the house. For instance they can use potatoes or pegs to teach their little ones how to count and the clothes so they can familiarize themselves with different colours. Not only the intellectual but also a healthy social and emotional development in the first nine years of the child is greatly dependent on the loving care and commitment of the parents. My vision is to help parents to play the full role in their children’s lives.

Children have the right to proper care. Unfortunately a lot of parents in our communities abuse alcohol and drugs, which can hold them back from creating a safe environment for their kids. One mother of my programme sometimes disappears for several days – nobody knows where.

She leaves her two children (three and five years old) at home alone without providing food for them because she is on drugs. It breaks my heart when I see children hungry and abandoned. It brings back memories of how abandoned and desperate I felt as a child. I wish I could magically change the lives of these children, but I can only continuously remind parents by telling my story and assisting them practically. Despite the challenges I won’t stop doing my part.

For myself I am dreaming of having kids and raising them the best way possible. Since I don’t want to repeat my own family history I am doing everything to become financially stable first. I can also imagine adopting children if I can’t have my own. I love kids.

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86 - Chapter name