Tuesday, November 11, 2008

19. Steps Forward

The draw of the streets is strong and as I mentioned, I have not seen many kids truly manage to get off the streets. But there are some kids that I was directly involved with as they went through the process of coming off the streets.
The following stories are of a few kids that did manage to make it away from the streets. For some of them it was easy and for others it was more difficult. They all, however, managed to successfully make that huge step of coming off the streets.
One of the most memorable stories is of a thirteen year old boy named Thabo. I met him the first day he came into Cape Town. He is a Xhosa-speaking kid from an area called Khayelitsha, but I was amazed at how well he could speak English.
Thabo is an extremely polite and gentle-natured kid. He always has the best manners and is extremely loving. He is also very animated and loves telling stories and I loved listening to them. I never really understood why he was on the streets.
He said there really wasn’t a problem at home and I looked at him and it hurt to see all that potential going to waste on the streets.
I spoke with him several times about going home and he was hesitant for an unknown reason. I saw him get sucked into the street life and begin to use drugs more heavily. He began to stop looking after himself and his general health and physical appearance were beginning to deteriorate.
One day, he seemed sick and I told him that he should at least consider going into a shelter until he gets better. He looked at me with a serious look on his face and said, “Okay!” and I said, “Okay? Okay what? You want to go?” and he said he did.
We started walking to my car and he stopped. I thought he was reconsidering his decision. He said, “Ryan, would you be able to just take me to my home?” I was of course happy to hear that and said I would love to take him to his home.
Sarah, a friend of mine, was with me that day so she rode with us as we went on our way to Thabo’s home. He already seemed to be feeling better when we got in the car. I was a little nervous, not really knowing what to expect when we got there.
I drove and he led me right up to a little shack. I stopped the car and we got out. Thabo, Sarah and I walked up to the door of the shack. Thabo knocked on the door. I heard a voice from the inside and then the door opened. His two older sisters were standing at the door and his mom was sitting back on a chair.
When the first sister saw him, she screamed. She grabbed him and squeezed him lifting him up off the ground. His body was limp as she hugged him and swung him back and forth.
The other sister and mom came to the door and also starting screaming in excitement. They all started crying in happiness. Right when his sister put him down she picked me up and started hugging me and the next sister picked up Thabo and started with the same procedure. They put us down and his mother picked up Thabo, the next sister picked me up and the other sister grabbed my friend Sarah.
We went around like that probably about three times!!
They were so excited to have him back and they asked me all sorts of questions about where he had been and what he had been up to. They had no clue where he was. We talked for a while and I promised to come back and visit. After we received more hugs, I said goodbye to Thabo and told him to be good, and Sarah and I went on our way.
It was such a refreshing experience for me because the family was so happy to have him back and was so loving towards him. I visited Thabo every now and then after that and he got into a bit of trouble here and there but generally was good and stayed at home. Not all of the “success” stories came so easily however.
One of the more difficult ones was with a thirteen year old kid named Dré. Dré had had a pretty rough life. He had lived with his mother in an area called Philippi.
When he was younger his little brother died and not long after that his mother also died. Soon after that, before the funeral, someone in his community pointed to a man and said, “That guy over there is your dad.”
He had never known his dad because he ran off when Dré was very young. His father came up to him and told him that he just wanted to take some of his mother’s things up to Transkei (about thirteen hours from Cape Town) and would be right back down to get him. Dré waited in the house, alone for several weeks, but his father never returned.
The story of how he made it into Cape Town is a bit sketchy but he eventually got into a shelter that is located downtown. He stayed in that shelter for many years and that is where I first met him.
In late 2001 he ran away from the shelter and went to the streets. I first became close with him one day when I took him to the dentist for a tooth that had totally rotted and was causing a great amount of pain. We had to be at the dentist early the next morning, so Dré stayed at my place the night before. We talked until late that night and he told me his whole life story.
Dré is really a smart kid and I also saw a lot of potential in him, as with Thabo. He also was not like the other kids and only smoked ganja and never used any other type of drug.
I asked him why he wanted to live on the streets and he said he didn’t really want to but he didn’t know where to go. He told me he would like to come off the streets but that there was NO WAY he was going back to that other shelter. He had lived in the shelter downtown for years and then when they opened a new home out in one of the communities, they moved him out there.
He became frustrated with the way things worked out there. He was small for his age and the other bigger boys always pushed him around.
I told Dré I would begin looking for a place for him. I called every children’s home in Cape Town and they all either said that they were too full or that he was the wrong age. Some of them told me that they could take him in if he was referred by another home, but they were not allowed to just take a kid straight from the streets.
The ONLY place that was willing to take him was, of course, the ONE place he refused to go to. I told him about it and he said that he would rather just stay on the streets.
And that he did, at least for the next few weeks. The streets finally wore on him and he approached me and said he was ready to get away from them.
I went and spoke to the social worker at the shelter downtown (I had a pretty good relationship with her) and she said that Dré would in fact have to go back to their home in the community and that it would be a temporary placement until he could be referred to another shelter.
I also told her about the frustrations that he had told me about not having a family to go to for weekends and holidays, like the other boys. We agreed that I would act as his guest family and Dré would come to me every now and then for a weekend and for the bigger holidays.
While talking with the social worker I did find out that he still had a grandmother that lived in Philippi but he didn’t like to go there because she was really sick.
I approached Dré with the compromise and he agreed to it. I took him that day out to the home in the community. He got back into the swing of things and got back into school and was doing fine. He came to me about once a month for a weekend visit and we always had fun.
I would try and do fun things like going to the movies and stuff to kind of reward him for hanging in there. One Saturday we climbed completely over the mountain in Muizenberg. He still talks about that to this day.
One weekend I took him to a farm owned by some friends of mine, about four hours away from Cape Town. He loved it and rode a horse for the first time in his whole life. It was a great experience for him and he proudly hung the pictures of him on the horse up on the wall next to his bed in the home.
Time went on and the social worker at the home was not really keeping up her side of the bargain and was not looking for another place for Dré. I could see that he was getting frustrated but he really hung in there.
The Christmas holidays rolled around and the social worker decided that Dré should go visit his grandmother before he came to my house for the holiday. I agreed with her and we made a plan for me to drop him at his grandmother’s house so that I would know where it was, and then in a weeks time I would pick him back up and he would come to my house for a week.
I was shocked to find out that the social worker had not only not made contact with the grandmother in the period of months that Dré had been back there, but that she hadn’t been in contact with Dré’s grandmother in several years.

I drove Dré to his grandmother’s house and when we got closer he spotted his older brother, whom I didn’t know existed. His brother is in his twenties and seems to be a troublemaker of some sort and not a good influence for Dré.
The brother went with us to the grandmother’s house and we went inside and sat down. I thought we were waiting for the grandmother to return and then Dré’s brother said he had something to tell us. He then informed Dré that his grandmother had died a whole year ago.
Dré’s eyes filled up with tears and he started crying. I felt sorry for him and angry at the social worker for not doing proper follow-up work.
We talked with the brother for a little while longer and then I had to take Dré back to the home because I had things planned for that coming week. I informed the social worker and she was shocked. I think she could see my frustration with her.
I told her that I would pick Dré up again in a week’s time. I went home and then a week later I picked him up and he spent Christmas with me.
A few months after that, the social worker informed me that the shelter had made a new rule that the kids could only visit their actual families and Dré would no longer be allowed to come and visit me. She was not happy with the decision because she knew that my influence in Dré’s life was the only thing keeping him there, but there was nothing she could do about it.

So, it was almost a year later and they had not kept either part of their side of the deal. Nothing was really being done to find another place for Dré to stay and now he wasn’t allowed to visit me anymore.
He was EXTREMELY upset about the whole thing and I told him that I would try and work something out. He didn’t get to visit me for a while but he would call me often and I would also call him if I got a chance. But, he started misbehaving and acting up more often.
About a year and a half after he had been staying in the home, the social worker resigned. Not long after that, I got a call one day from one of the childcare workers.
He said that Dré had just totally lost control and that he knew Dré was a good kid but he didn’t know what was going on with him. He said that he knew Dré looked up to me and respected me and he asked me to talk to him.
I talked with Dré on the phone that day but it was a little difficult since I couldn’t see him, so a few days after that I went to the school he attends and waited outside for him to come out.
I talked with him that day and listened to his side of the story and tried to encourage him to get his act together.
Not too long after that, the childcare worker called me and asked if it would be possible for Dré to come to my house for a weekend. I agreed to it and he did. I saw Dré’s attitude change over the weekend.
When I first picked him up, I saw that he had a bad attitude, not really towards me but just in general, but then as the weekend went on I saw him transform to his old happy self. He was not looking forward to going back to the home on Sunday afternoon and I saw his attitude change for the worse again as we approached the building.
It is now two years later and he is still there and nothing is being done towards getting him into another pace. Dré still comes to visit me sometimes and he calls every now and then. I can only hope that he continues to hang in there.
Another story of a more difficult time trying to help a kid off the streets was with a thirteen year old kid named Thanduxolo. He had strolled in Cape Town for a few years. He is also an extremely intelligent kid.
At one point he would call me almost every night. Just to talk, or to say good night or to tell me about the day’s events. I would talk to him about coming off the street and one day he finally decided he had had enough of the street life and wanted to go home.
I drove him to the area in Philippi where his mother’s house is but we were shocked to see what we saw when we got there.
It was an unofficial settlement and they were busy tearing down the shacks and building government homes. The whole place was a mess and the exact spot where Thanduxolo’s mother’s house was, was an empty space of sand. We went to another area where his cousin lives to ask her if she knew where the mother lived.
When we got to that area, Thanduxolo was not exactly sure where exactly his cousin lived. We walked around, stopping from shack to shack asking if they knew where his cousin was. We didn’t have any luck and we decided to call it quits for the day.
Just as we were walking back to the car a lady asked, “Who are you looking for again?” Thanduxolo replied and the lady said that she did know that person and she lead us to his cousin’s house.
His cousin was happy to see him. Her place was a small shack, just big enough for a bed to fit in. We talked with her for a while and she told us that his mom had indeed moved but she didn’t know where the new house was. She also told us that Thanduxolo’s mom has a phone but she didn’t know the phone number.
She told us that she should see the mother in the week and she would get the number and then phone me. We exchanged numbers and Thanduxolo and I went on our way.
Since he had made the decision to come off the street, I didn’t want to just take him back and dump him in Cape Town, just because we had trouble finding his mom’s house. So I gave him the option to stay at my place for the week, until we found his mom.
He was very relieved and happy to stay at my place. The days went by and I didn’t hear anything from his cousin. Finally, near the end of the week, I called her and she said that she still hadn’t come in contact with his mother.
Finally, after a little more than a week, Thanduxolo and I decided to go back into Philippi and just look around some more. We went and he searched for more than an hour, but to no avail. I was in a difficult spot because he had stayed with me for a week, and because of that I had not been able to do everything I was supposed to do. He decided that he would go back to Cape Town until his cousin called me with his mother’s details.
He was back in Cape Town for a couple of weeks, and then a couple of weeks turned into a couple of months. I still did not hear anything from his cousin.
Finally, one day, out of the blue, she phoned me to say that she had heard from his mom and that she had moved to the Eastern Cape (about thirteen hours away from Cape Town). I told Thanduxolo the news and he seemed sad.
Not too long after that, his cousin called me back and said that if I went and got him and brought him to her house, she was leaving the next day for the Eastern Cape and he could come with her. I went to Cape Town, found Thanduxolo and told him the news and he decided to go.
I drove him to his cousin’s place and dropped him off. He called me later that night and told me that they were leaving the next day for the Eastern Cape and he would call me when they get there, to let me know he arrived safely.
Sure enough, a few days later, he called me to tell me that he had made it. He said he was happy to be there and was really excited to see his mom. Time went by and he told me that he was going to stay there and he even got back in school. I was, of course, excited to hear that.
At the same time I was surprised because the place where he was staying is a rural area and not near as exciting as the city life Cape Town has to offer.
He called me at least once or twice a week to keep me updated on things and the one time I asked him how to get there if I ever want to come visit him.
The directions he told me were as follows: “Ok, drive to Queenstown and ask where’s Cofimvaba. When you get to Cofimvaba ask where’s Qamata Basin. When you get to Qamata Basin, ask where’s Thanduxolo. That’s where I live.”
After he was there for about six months, I decided I wanted to go visit him. So, without telling him, some friends and I went on the LONG road trip and headed on our way to Qamata Basin.
I wondered if we were actually going to find him, with the directions that he gave us. We drove and did a few stops here and there visiting different people we knew along the way and then eventually made it to Qamata Basin.
We went straight to Qamata Basin, instead of first stopping and asking in the other places. We stopped in the first village and asked at a few different houses, “Where’s Thanduxolo” and after the third one didn’t know, we decided that he was either not as popular as he thought, or we were in the wrong place. We got directions for the next village over and we drove there.

When we pulled into the village, we saw a phone sitting in the middle of a field and I wondered if it was the phone he always called me from. I had the number with me, so I drove up beside the phone and dialed the number.
Sure enough, the pay phone started ringing!! We knew we were in the right place! We stopped at the first house and asked “Where’s Thanduxolo?” and a boy, who happened to be one of Thanduxolo’s good friends, jumped in the car with us and lead the way to him.
When Thanduxolo saw my car he looked absolutely shocked! He was really happy to see us!! He took us to meet his grandmother and told us that, ironically, his mother had gone to Cape Town for a visit.
Life in Qamata Basin is very different to Cape Town and I was amazed at how he had fit right into the culture. It is an extremely rural area and most of the houses do not have electricity and none of them have running water. There is not a single toilet in the whole village. You have to get drinking water from the river.
He showed us around a bit and we walked to the store to get food to cook for the night. A huge group of kids followed us around because they had not seen too many white people before. Thanduxolo told us that my friend and I were the first white people to ever come and stay amongst the people in that village.
I don’t know if that is true, but I am sure it is true for the time that he has been staying there.
We had a great stay and it was so interesting to see and live amongst that culture, even if it was only for a couple of days. That was the most rural pace I had been to in South Africa since I have lived here so it was a great experience for me.
Most of all, I was so pleased and surprised to find Thanduxolo doing so well and I was very proud at how he had fit into that community and culture so well. Thanduxolo told me that he didn’t really even miss Cape Town and he loved it in Qamata Basin. I was happy to hear that!
These are just a few stories of the kids that have managed to make it off of the streets. There have been others that I have seen, but as I said, they are few and far between.
I have seen many kids come off the street for long periods of time, only to return to the streets. It is hard to see, but the occasional kid that makes it off and stays off, encourages me to believe that it is possible for others too.

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