Jabulani Project

Alex

Well, Home Affairs was better than I could possibly hope for. The application for Nthutuko's passport went through with no hitches and, thanks to help from Russell from Sisco, it looks as though we might manage to get passports for the two learners. This country is still operating on the basis of who you know! fortunately we are acquiring good friends and contacts on a daily basis. Fingers crossed....we are not there yet.
Interesting times at Umthombo and Sisco last week. Jenn and I went to Life Space in Umthombo whilec Isaac and Fiona carried on with their drama work with the young ones in Safe Space. We went to the Apartheid Museum housed in Kwamuhle where the administration during Apartheid years "managed "the black workers. The street kids were transfixed and Edee told us the follow up was really inspiring. Mthubo was low because the charger I bought him had disappeared. We are nearly there with getting his business off the ground. He will be brilliant I am sure.
We went to Sisco in the afternoon, but since the kids were at Icare we did some outreach work with Rissell and Abdul. I never fail to be impressed by these guys. They are so impressive, passionate and committed. The first group of youngsters we came upon were between a Khumbi rank and the railway. The first sight of them was seriously scary. They were all very high and standing in an area no better than a really disgusting rubbish dump. As we walked towards them I feared for syringes etc. but we met and instantly they were friendly. They couldn't believe we were willing to embrace them or touch their hands. It was so unsettling and depressing to imagine their lives. How can they smile and be friendly to us. Not a trace of anger or resentment. Abdul wouldn't let us approach the group under the railway bridge. He felt it was too dangerous. Apparently they closed your escape route when you were with them and robbed you!
The next group we approached were illegal immigrants from other African countries. They lived under trees by a putrid canal. At first sight they looked so well, even healthy and with such beautiful expressions. It turned out they were Muslim so not stoned. They also welcomed and embraced us. Abdul could speak to them (he has nine languages). They had been stowaways on ships to Durban, in search of a better life. In many ways they are the poorest I have seen, unloved by everyone, including the zulus. Xenophobic attitudes persist. What will become of them. All they can do is scavange from the markets under the cover of darkness.
Our last port of call was the Embankment. More human debris and for the first time we came upon a young Indian girl. Somehow this jolted me in a new way. So far I have seen the Indian population as relatively prosperous. Poverty does not respect ethnicity. I left utterly horrified by what I had seen. I will never give up, as they say in Charles Memorial. Sisco needs our help. We will not let them down.