I look to my view from the ministry site- Table Mountain, one of the seven natural wonders of the world. The sun is setting behind the mountain, its rays illuminating upward and giving white edges to the otherwise gray clouds that stand in a sky quickly changing from blue to colors of orange and pink. It’s beautiful.
A noise in the distance diverts my eyes to a more immediate situation. The neighborhood I’m in is called Phumlani. With an unemployment rate estimated at 60%, it’s filled with gangs, drugs, AIDS, and the poorest of poor. A place where even the locals won’t venture…except when they spot a group of white Americans from the road and stop to warn us, or ask if we’re ok and know where we are.
My first introduction to the town was sitting in the home of a mother who just lost her 18 year old son only 3 days before. Several neighbors used him to run errands, and as usual Joseph went to pick up a prescription for a neighbor he often helped. Only that fateful day, he returned having lost the ID card that was necessary to pick up the prescription. The neighbors accused him of selling the ID, and then beat him to death the following day.
The homes there were built by the government after Nelson Mandela was released- a kitchen, complete with toilet in plain sight, and one bedroom. Although sturdily made out of concrete blocks, an average of 6-8 people live in these one bedroom homes.
I focus in on the place in which I currently stand- the community center. This month, we are working with New Chapter Foundation, founded a few years ago by a 30 year old named Malcolm. Malcolm was raised in an even more notorious neighborhood, and from the age of 8 can recall peeking out the windows of his locked home as gangsters blockaded his street and went from apartment to apartment killing those in an opposing gang. He credits his mother with keeping him off the streets, giving him hope, and encouraging him to follow his dreams.
The Foundation has many projects afoot (feeding programs and computer training courses), but we are working specifically with the youth of Phumlani through an after school program. The community center gives the children a place to get off the street an often out of the homes of parents that make poor role models. We play soccer, run art projects, sing songs with them, and do skits to teach them to “do unto others as you would have them do to you.” But it seems as though our main role is to be positive role models for the children. Often this comes in the way of teaching them conflict resolution- how to “use your words” as I used to teach as a behavioral therapist. The children commonly resort to violence as a means to get their point across- 6 year old boys picking up even younger girls by the throat, 12 year olds getting 5 year olds on the ground and kicking them in the ribs. I don’t even want to think about where they learn these things from. Some of the children that come are already “in business” carrying drugs and weapons for gangs because the police won’t shake them down. Girls under 10 who are hired by a “sugar daddy” for unimaginable acts. These are the things children often aspire to be, because they know no other way, and because they see the gangs with food to eat and the coolest new shoes.
Surrounded in beauty, I sit in brokenness. All I have today is what is directly in front of me. Hope that for even one child I can, through God, break the cycle. These children need love, discipline, empowerment, and a dream for better- and with that, we can change a generation.
