‘Farm animals live better than us’
“Farm animals live better than us,” says a 13-year-old Port St Johns village girl.
The Grade 7 girl, her sister, five cousins and their grandmother live in a one-room mud structure in Bala village.
It is more of a hovel than a house.
It sags, it has holes, sticks are poking out from mud walls, its tattered edges are crumbling.
It could fall at any moment, having spent a long 30 years upright.
The girl said her grandmother no longer had the energy to patch the crumbling structure.
“Even animal farms do not live like this,” she said as she unfolded an old straw mat that she and her 11-year-old sister sleep on.
The girl would collapse, exhausted, onto the mat by 9pm.
It was just after sunset when a Dispatch team arrived.
She had just returned from a second trip to a nearby fountain where they fetch water — a daily routine she has been conditioned into doing with her mind in neutral.
But this is the water the family will drink and she will use to wash their school shirts, socks and underwear.
As young as she is, she has the daunting task of making sure that everything is well prepared for the family.
Her routine starts at 5.30am when she makes a fire to boil water for bucket washes, tea and pap — when there is any.
All the children must be raised and readied for school.
Shoes are like gold. Each child has only one pair, and they are only to be worn to school, never for anything else. They must be worn until the very last stitch.
“I am tired of living like this. This is too much for me,” the 13year-old said, tears welling up.
Her life is relentless. Weekends arrive with their own routines — chopping and collecting firewood from the forest and doing the family laundry.
She tries to hide her feelings about her absent parents.
Her mother lives in Durban, doing odd jobs, and there is not enough of a mother-daughter bond.
“She does call now and again, but because of the distance, we are not as close as we should be,” the girl said with a tired sigh.
She does not know her father, has never set eyes on him.
Yet she dreams of her parents living and working together, with the family.
“I would be living a better life,” she murmured.
The rundown house is a constant source of worry.
It feels unsafe, can topple at any moment, and it is no protection from intruders with evil intent.
“Anyone can easily open this thing we call a door and harm us. We are not safe,” she said.
Her cousins are also preparing to sleep.
They have already put their blankets on the dirt floor, where they sleep with only the grass mat for insulation and support.
The grandmother sits on her mat next to the table, feeding her four-year-old grandchild samp and beans. It is basic, no gravy or sauce.
Finally, they all settle. It is a bleak sight.
Two teens lie with a child between them, the gran keeps the four-year-old close and the older teens have taken a space for themselves.
Everyone is wrapped in blankets. Clothes are crammed in corners in containers and on rough shelves.
The kitchen table with all the food and utensils takes up the centrepiece.
The family sleeps around the food and water.
Earlier, the 13-year-old had said: “We are like sardines in a can.”
“We are not going to eat this evening. We ate when we returned from school. We had the option to eat then or now.
“Farm animals do not skip meals or choose whether they should eat in the middle of the day or in the evening.
“They are well taken care of and sleep in safe structures. I wish things were better.
“This is the only life I have known since I was born, but this is not how I want to live,” she said.
Her grandmother is unemployed. The family relies on their child support grants for survival. She said they got a little money from their mother from time to time.
“The groceries do not last until the month’s end. Granny then goes around the village asking for food so we can have something to eat,” she said.
She said they suffered when cold fronts arrived with wind, rain and cold.
“It is freezing cold in winter, and when it rains there is water everywhere in here.
“It is just a miracle that the mud has not collapsed on us.
“Soon or later, if we carry on living like this, it will eventually happen,” she said.
Her only ray of hope and optimism is education.
She said the family’s horrible home life was driving her to try to get an education.
“It is only education that will take me out of this situation.”