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Seeing terminally-ill friends pass away is a regular occurrence for Soweto's Red Cross home-based carers. Their choir helps them to deal with their sorrow (p10105)



Thanks to the help of her Red Cross visitor, Neria Maphefo got access to medication that stopped her passing on the HIV virus to her son, Prince, when he was born (p10106)




Nkele Saka and her two children receive a visit from Red Cross volunteer, Seipata Raborifi. “When something is troubling me, I talk to her," Nleke says. "Were I not able unburden myself by talking to someone, I'm sure I would have been dead long ago.” (p10107)


Songs of Hope from Soweto
15 July 2003
by Marko Kokic in Soweto


“Some people who visit for the first time say that there are a lot of scrap yards here,” jokes Red Cross volunteer Vusi Mtembu referring to the makeshift shanties that spread out as far as the eye can see.

Driving a little further he points to identical rows of low-cost yellow brick housing, “Those we call matchboxes,” he laughs. For Vusi and most of the 4.2 million people living in Soweto this is what they call home. Apartheid may be over but poverty and its accompanying problems still plague this historic township.

“Vusi almost lost his life here not long ago when he was hijacked driving a Red Cross van,” points HIV/AIDS project coordinator, Mantshadi Moralo from the back seat. “That’s why we are doing more community outreach these days. Many people don’t know about the Red Cross so we want them to know that it is for them,” she says.

At Nacefield Hostel, residents have congregated to hear what the Red Cross has to say. Volunteer Thabo Nkosi and others make a presentation in local languages to the community’s leaders in the local clinic.

Nacefield is a place where rural migrants come to live. It has a troubled history. There was a time not long ago when pitched battles were fought in its streets between people of different tribes. These days the community is peaceful but poverty remains.

In Nacefield, it is hard to distinguish where the village ends and the city begins. Wood fires burn on the concrete ground. Women in traditional dress sit outside their shacks sewing. Children with distended bellies play barefoot in an abandoned car.

Only a few metres away are a large pile of decaying cow skulls. “Cow heads are the only meat people can afford to buy here,” explains Thabo. Before leaving the community, several boxes of condoms are distributed freely to residents. Like poverty, HIV/AIDS has hit Soweto hard.

“Everyone knows someone who has died of AIDS,” explains Mantshadi Moralo, Soweto branch project coordinator for HIV/AIDS.

Based on statistics gathered at local clinics, Mantshadi estimates that at least 20 per cent of the adult population is infected. This is why all of Soweto’s 77 active Red Cross volunteers are involved in home-based care for people living with HIV/AIDS.

In an informal settlement called Dlalini, volunteer Brenda Mahlangu, cares for 25 year-old Neria Maphefo and her infant son, Prince. Neria found out in June last year that she was HIV-positive. With Brenda’s help she got access to medication that spared Prince from being infected at birth.

But, apart from knowing that her child is healthy, Neria’s life is far from happy. Prince’s father, Patrick, is also living with HIV/AIDS. The once happy young couple no longer lives together. For a while they went to the local Red Cross branch for counselling but Patrick has given up.

“He says that after all he is going to die so what’s the use of caring about life. He just hangs out with some friends and smokes mandrax (a local narcotic),” says Neria.
Neria is unemployed and receives about US$ 20 a month from the government, on which she must survive and care for her child. Brenda helps by bringing her additional food, clothing and medicine.

Neria is one of 15 patients that Brenda cares for. Some are at a terminal stage, requiring up to three visits a week. Yet Brenda remains easy-going about the difficulty of her work. “I just tell my clients to be cool, take their medicine and to feel free in their minds. They are still the same person they were before they got infected and besides no one really knows when it is their time to go, so why worry about it,” she says.

For 35-year-old Nkele Saka home-based care has really made a difference. She lives with her husband and two children. Although both she and her husband are living with the virus, she has found the courage to embrace life thanks to the help of volunteer Seipata Raborifi.

“I have to live like someone who is HIV-negative so that I may bring up my children,” she says. “When something is troubling me, I talk to Seipata and she gives me good advice. Were I not able to rid myself of this burden by talking to someone, I am sure I would have been dead long ago,” reflects Nleke.

Stigma against people living with HIV is still very real in the township and those infected rarely disclose their status even to close relatives. “You find that when some people find out a family member is infected they build a shack outside and give them food as though they are feeding dogs,” reveals Mantshadi.

Death from HIV/AIDS is all too common in Soweto. In a section called White City, volunteer Singile Mtshali visits her patient Constance Mosikoe. Singile soon returns to the car with tears in her eyes. “Constance’s family told me that she passed away early this morning,” she says choking a cry.

“I cared for her for about a year, she was my friend,” she says, shaking her head as Mantshadi comforts her.

Later, volunteer Brenda discussed the difficulty in being a care facilitator: “Working for the terminally ill is hard because many of those we care for pass away. It is always painful to lose a friend but at least we know that we bring them comfort during the time they had left. That is what is really important,” she says.

But sometimes feelings do become overwhelming and some sort of emotional outlet is necessary. “We formed a choir at the branch so that we could sing some of our sorrows away,” says Mantshadi.

Their songs celebrate life and the memory of those who have passed away. Using only their voices, they bring beauty to the “scrap yard”. Their songs are many but the message is always inspiring. It is one of hope.

Related links:

Listen to the choir!
Track 1
Track 2
Track 3

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