For Bra Fish and many others, the struggle against poverty continues

STANDING outside his shack, Edwin Hlape Melato — Bra Fish to his friends or Dickson More to his comrades — cannot miss the new cluster of RDP houses developing across the spruit, just behind Chris Hani Baragwanath Hospital in Soweto.

It’s a sight he wakes up to every morning, and it breaks his heart.

A man of few words, 77-year-old Melato is an Umkhonto we Sizwe (MK) veteran. Sitting in his tidy shack at the Elias Motsoaledi squatter camp (it’s amazing how these awful places always get named after struggle heroes!) he tells of the twists and turns of his long life as if it’s just happened.

Joining the ANC in Mzimhlophe, Soweto, in 1956, he went into exile in 1964 at the age of 27. Sneaking out of the country was more than a hazardous undertaking.

If intercepted, guerrillas were likely to end up in the hands of the South African security police, and at their mercy.

After a few months in Tanzania, he was sent to Odessa, Ukraine, for military training.

His unit, the Luthuli Detachment, was involved in skirmishes against Rhodesian troops in Wankie in 1967, while attempting to create a passage to South Africa. Those killed included Basil February, a rising star in MK. Some, like Chris Hani, escaped to Botswana.

Melato spent most of the time in Tanzania as a communication officer. Coming back home in 1992 proved not to be the pleasant experience he had hoped for.

He and others were stuck at a Hillbrow hotel because the townships were in turmoil. It also took him a while to trace his relatives because the area where they lived had been demolished in accordance with the dictates of the Group Areas Act. He spent two years living at a community centre in Sebokeng with his Tanzanian wife, Linnar.

In May 1994, a month after the country’s first all-race elections, he moved into the shack, where he’s been ever since.

The irony hasn’t escaped him. At the country’s finest hour, the dawn of freedom — the attainment of which he had fought for all his life — he found himself living in a squalid squatter camp, with no lights, no running water, an outside pit latrine and where it’s not uncommon to see sewage flowing down the street.

Torture will continue for Melato. The new suburb of RDP houses across the spruit will soon extend to an open space next to his shack. He’s not among the lucky ones on the list.

And he’s knocked on every door. Major-General Jackie Sedibe, his former boss in MK and the highestranking woman in the SANDF, was sympathetic, but nothing happened. He was part of a delegation that met Thandi Modise, then ANC deputy secretary-general, at Luthuli House.

A former MK cadre herself, she seemed keen to help. Melato claims to have personally spoken to Lindiwe Sisulu during her first stint as minister of human settlements — and she also fed him her own diet of promises.

At a Waterkloof Air Force base medal ceremony some time ago, he tried to worm his way into seeing President Jacob Zuma, but failed. Nosiviwe Mapisa-Nqakula said she’d take up the matter.

“If I was getting a medal from the president I would have told him I don’t want it. I need a house.”

A letter to new Gauteng premier David Makhura to intervene on his behalf drew the sort of response from his office that highlights the incompetence in the civil service. It seems to have been written by somebody who hasn’t spent too much time at school.

Life has not been kind to Melato. He has prostate cancer, diabetes, arthritis and hypertension. It’s a miracle he’s still able to walk.

“My husband will die in this shack,” says Linnar, with unmistakable anger and bitterness in her voice. Fear of what might happen is written on her face. Her husband is all she has in this country.

But Melato’s is not an isolated case. Many of his comrades feel abandoned by an organisation they served so loyally for so many years under extremely difficult conditions.

The leaders are now ensconced in powerful government jobs, and are seemingly unable or unwilling to secure a basic need such as a house for their erstwhile foot soldiers.

Having been trained for war, their skills became obsolete once peace was achieved.

They were given pensions and some were drafted into the new army instead of being empowered with new skills to make them valuable members of society.

An MK veterans’ trust launched 10 years ago is believed to have amassed millions from business ventures and shareholdings. None of the money has gone to its beneficiaries. The trustees are sitting pretty.

A group of MK vets intends to launch a class action to remove the trustees, institute a financial audit and draw up a proper list of beneficiaries.

But that may be too late for Melato — and many of his comrades.

All he needs right now is a decent roof over his head.