Prudence Mini gets to the heart of a child-headed household, where she discovers a community that – despite its own hardships – has reached out to make sure the children get the support they need.
Prudence Mini gets to the heart of a child-headed household, where she discovers a community that – despite its own hardships – has reached out to make sure the children get the support they need.
Last month, Lauretta Same moved into a house in Fingo Village. She didn't think twice when, during her first week in the township, the neighbours' children knocked on her door and asked if they could watch TV.
Of course, she said. "My husband and I were about to eat lunch, so I served them as well." Same noticed that the girls were eating very hurriedly, but thought nothing of it. In this way – they'd come over for TV and she'd give them something to eat – she got to know the girls during the next few weeks.
"I would send them to the shop sometimes and tell them to buy some sweets and chips with the change." Then, one day, it occurred to her that even though their house and the shack the girls lived in shared a yard, she had never seen their parents and one day she asked, where is your mother? She wasn't prepared for what she heard.
"The children replied that their mother was in debt with for buying home-brewed wine on loan and had run away from loan sharks," Same said. "What do you eat, then?" Same had asked. They told her they ate the chips they bought with her change when she sent them to the shops.
Thandi*, 10, and Thembisa*, 14, told her they also depended on their friends to steal food from their own houses for them. Big sister Phumla*, who has just turned 18, had to drop out of school two years ago when she gave birth to her child. "Our father is in Pretoria and we haven't seen or heard from him since we were young," said Phumla.
The children know him only by his first name, Sam. Their mother has been driven away by debt. "Loan sharks would come and attack her in the yard," said Phumla. "The neighbours don't intervene, they just watch. "She has gone to live on a farm and we only see her on pension days, when she brings us some groceries," she said.
The children's survival pack comprises 1kg bags of rice, mielie-meal and flour, as well as smaller items such as sunflower oil – but these aren't enough to last the whole month, Phumla said.
Although Same is unemployed, since she has found out about the children's situation, she gives them supper most nights, she says. "It's painful that a child must go to bed hungry. It's unacceptable," Same said.
She also packs them a school lunch, because the Department of Education has temporarily suspended the National Schools Nutrition Programme, on which the children used to rely for a daily meal.
Another neighbour, Nosamkelo Hlubulwa, gives them porridge in the mornings, and sometimes bread. Last week, Same took the children to get help from Gadra Advice and Community Work where, treated as a high-priority case, they were given clothes and toiletries.
They will receive a food parcel every week until a social worker is able to place them. Grocott's Mail contacted the local office of the social development department and was referred to the South African Social Security Agency.
This, they said, was because their main concern in this case was the abuse of the child-support grant. Sassa Senior Manager of Communications and Marketing for the Eastern Cape, Luzuko Qina, said once they made aware of such a situation, a social worker would be sent to assess the situation.
Sassa would follow the social worker's recommendations, according to the provisions of the child care act, and the children would be taken to a place of safety. The grant, which was intended for the children's livelihood, would then be suspended and channelled to the right person.
Thandi and Thembisa had to drop out of school in the middle of last year, because they did not have school shoes. A neighbour and Andrew Moyake Public School teacher, Lulama Nxopo, noticed this and made sure they were enrolled this year at Andrew Moyake Public School.
"Both children are bright," she said, adding that Thembisa had been top of her class in her previous school. Thembisa said, "I like going to school and I love learning. I want to become a social worker to help people."
Phumla said she, too, wanted to go back to school, but her circumstances were against her. Phumla's two-year-old receives a R250 a month child support grant, but she receives only a very small portion of it because her bank card has been seized by a loan shark.
But while Thandi and Thembisa are content for things to carry on the way they are, their situation is a heavy burden on Phumla. Speaking to her about it brought tears to her eyes. "I want our home to come right. My sisters have to have food. There needs to be somebody to look after them, because I am still too young," she said.
*Names changed because Thandi and Thembisa are minors and Phumla would like to remain anonymous.
