Vusi's House; the detached building outside is the toilet
Day 21
Friday
4/24/09
“As a woman, I have no country. As a woman, I want no country. As a woman, my country is the whole world.”
— Virgina Woolf
Had a very inspiring and thought stimulating day today! Last time we were at the Marianhill clinic a few of us had promised Vusi we would come help him put on an educational workshop at the local high school. Due to multiple changes in plans we were unable to meet with Vusi before workshop-day and headed up to Marianhill this morning with no idea of what we were getting into.
At the clinic Vusi informed us that apparently we were solely responsible for presenting to one of the most intimidating audiences I can think of – 200 high school students. Especially a tough crowd when discussing sex-related issues such as HIV/AIDS, STIs, and teen pregnancy. We also learned that there was no transportation planned – a bit of an issue since the school was a ways away and Vusi only had his walker. With no use of his legs Vusi gets around with his walker by doing pretty much half a tricep dip with each step; his mobility is impressive but it’s no way to get more than a block. In midst of arranging transportation three Zulu girls, appearing to be in their late teens, arrived. Vusi introduced them as the members of the Isu Labasha (Youth Vision) organization that had organized the workshop and were going to accompany and translate as necessary.
We eventually got a taxi to take us through a complex maze of dirt roads to the high school, a horse shoe shaped arrangement of three buildings surrounded by barbed wire. Curious faces peered out the windows as we walked by – later I found out that we were the first white people to visit the school for as long as anyone could remember. We separated into two groups: Caroline, Nicole, and I covering HIV/AIDS, STIs, and teen pregnancy and Sean and Isaac covering TB and drug/alcohol abuse. As soon as we entered the packed classroom about 50 teenagers in yellow and green uniforms exploded into loud laughter, shrieks, and chatter. We eventually calmed them down long enough to do our spiel, which was mainly composed of true/false questions. Every few minutes the room would erupt from blank stares into peals of laughter, reason unbeknownst to us. We fielded the few questions they had and switched classrooms. It was hard to tell if they were paying attention to anything we were saying or if we were telling them anything they hadn’t heard a thousand times before. However, after we finished and the students were released for lunch, one girl came up to Sean and I to thank us. She shyly explained that she had TB and wanted to teach her fellow classmates but was afraid they would be scared of her. Another girl, about 15 years old, approached me to tell me she had been coughing and sweating at night for a couple months but the doctor told her she didn’t have TB or HIV – and what should we do? She kinda stumped me with that one – like many other times here, I really wished I had more medical knowledge. I think I gave her a sufficient answer.
We met with the principal for a few minutes who explained that they would love to have this happen regularly as teen pregnancy and HIV/AIDS are huge problems within the student population. It’s scary to think about HIV/AIDS being a huge problem amongst these giggling 14-18 year olds in cheery school uniforms. We gave him the number of our local coordinator here and told him we would do our best to set something up.
On the way back I asked Pinky, one of the Isu Labasha girls, about the organization and the workshops they put on. I was blown away by her answers! Apparently Pinky, who’s only 21 and lives in the Marianhill township, was tired of seeing her community, especially the teenagers, being ravaged by HIV/AIDS, unemployment, poverty, and hopelessness and decided to do something about it. With a high school education and no funding or experience doing anything like this, she decided to start an organization to educate the community and “give them hope.” She came to Vusi who helped her get the organization off the ground. Now Isu Labasha has grown to six members, between 17-22 years old. They regularly present day long, standing-room-only, workshops to the Marianhill community about HIV/AIDS, education, TB, STIs, and other issues the community faces. They have no funding but are able to solicit enough groceries from local markets to provide a home cooked lunch for the attendees. Pinky says they are currently applying to become an official non-profit but they are struggling with the paperwork. She explained that there’s so much more the organization wants to do, such as helping train teens in marketable skills and providing food parcels, but they just don’t have the money.
I was amazed – here’s this young girl from this poverty-stricken community in a culture where women have minimal power who has been courageous and committed enough to do more than most people with a lot more education and resources will ever do. I have some great interviews with Vusi, Pinky, and the others on video – I can’t wait to edit it together. I was struggling with how to best help this community ever since our home visits with Vusi but I think this is my answer. Vusi and Isu Labasha have so many great ideas about how to help this struggling community and could be so effective with even a little financial support. I was so overwhelmed by Pinky and Isu Labasha’s determination, bravery, and wisdom beyond their years. They have such amazing potential and we, in the US, have an abundance of the resources they need. My heart is compelled to do whatever I can to support them as true change makers and leaders in the world.
