I pull up at a pharmacy and jump out of my car, rush in with a nervous smile in my bid to score the last-minute service before end-of-business closure, oblivious to the somewhat gloomy, somewhat gleeful and somewhat desperate portrayals of township life around me.The pharmacist is already packing up to go but because he knows me he decide to let it slide.I get helped...with a huge smile and a bit of friendly chatting.Knowing people and being known to people...doors just open for you.As I leave the building I feel a little more relaxed, a little more in control.As I prepare to take off, a young lad in tattered clothes and run-down shoes approaches my window. Please Sir, could you buy me some bread. I am stunned, wordless, devoid of any particular feeling.Young boy, whats your name, where do you come from, where are your parents.... The question flow out without any logical sense.I dont want any answers.I am just out of my depth.The young lad is almost in tears.His parents passed on a while back.He is left with his brother and sister in a shack in a nearby shantytown.I feel my spirit sink to my toes. Please Sir, I am hungry, my sister and brother are starving.My name is Kgotso...I...I... He stammers on.Without thinking I pull out a fifty rand bill and give it to the little chap.He looks at me with a thankful face. His face breaks into a rather tired smile.The boy looks a little younger than ten if not just little older.As I look around I notice a guy who had just pulled up next to me giving the young lad a hateful look.A look covered in total disgust.Before I can say anything the young boy disappears into a nearby Chinese store and reappears with a plastic bag slung over his shoulder.He waves at me cheerfully and runs off into the dusk in the direction of the shantytown.As I pull out and drive off my mind is wrapped around the young boy.His tired yet thankful face, the hateful face of the guy in the next car...they both cant seem to escape my over-analytic mind.What has happened to the world?.Of course I helped the young chap.Gave him fish for tonight.But I did not teach him how to catch fish or where to catch fish.I did not even try to find out if he can or want to catch fish.He will therefore be out in the street tomorrow, enduring more hateful looks, hoping for more good Samaritans.I realized that I was just part of the hateful society that forms the backbone of what we call our country.As I drive along the busy streets my mind is taken back to the Shangaan speaking woman I had the privilege of meeting just a few months ago.She came from the same shantytown.Are we so oblivious to the squalor that is the settlement next to our township and neighboring suburbs.Is there any help that we can lend to those hard-hit by lifes turbulent storms?.Throwing a loaf of bread or a few unused clothes in that direction every now and then does not alleviate the problem...it accentuate it.It only serves to make us feel a little at ease.Temporarily.What kind of people are we?.More specifically, what kind of a man am I....(extract from The Roxology Institute:Letters From The Heart)
Posted on: Mon, 24 Mar 2014 19:11:18 +0000
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