The heroes among us

I write this column as a tribute to all the women, young and old, from all walks of life, who have touched my life, most of them without knowing it. Some of them were in my life for a brief (but nevertheless blessed) encounter, while others always featured in the background, but had a distinct effect on me.

As much as this tribute is in light of Wednesday being the launch of the 16 Days of Activism Against Women and Child Abuse, it is also about the day-to-day heroes who live among us, but whose stories will go untold.

I feel indebted to these women, some of whose names I never came round to finding out, but who left such an impression on me that I carry the memories with me.

These are just some their stories:

One morning while I was still a student I boarded a taxi in Benoni bound for Johannesburg. One of the other passengers was a woman, of slight build, who had so much luggage with her that it took up the space of two people. She incurred some abuse from a group of taxi drivers outside the taxi who could not understand why, if she was determined to travel with so much stuff, she did not hire a van or truck to transport it to her final destination, Lesotho.

She did not answer any of their questions, and disregarded their brutal remarks, all the while carefully placing each item in the taxi. When finally done, and the taxi was full and heading out of the rank, it became clear that she did not have enough money to pay for herself as well as the two spots occupied by her luggage.

After a brief altercation with the driver, followed by one generous passenger’s offer to pay for her luggage, order was restored in the vehicle, much to the woman’s relief. Upon prompting from the rest of the taxi, she told her story: she was running away from her abusive and unfaithful husband and taking everything he owned and valued — just to spite him.

Her children were in Lesotho, and she’d finally decided that she’d rather get back to them while she could still find work and provide for them, than live under the shadow and abuse of the man who ”claims to love them but brings another woman home to sleep with while I am there”.

Needless to say, the entire taxi — occupied front-to-back by women, would you believe — was shocked at her brevity and courage. The driver’s attempt to defend all men was met with harsh words, and he was warned to keep his male mouth shut, or else!

I watched while, one after the other, the women in the taxi started to take out their purses, handing money to a self-appointed director and treasurer of the luggage woman’s very own ”taxi fund”, and giving it to her, along with praise for her courage and advice on getting on with her life, for the sake of her children.

I got off the taxi before the luggage woman did, along with an elderly woman who made the driver promise that he would drop her off at the very spot where she could find taxis to Lesotho. I don’t know how the rest of her journey went, but I was in awe at the manner in which she was received and celebrated by complete strangers.

In another encounter a few years later, I met a woman who had survived a family-suicide-gone-wrong, and lived to tell the tale. This woman’s husband, I was told by a friend while we sat across the room from her at a children’s party, had had enough. He had apparently been planning the suicide for a while, and this was evident in the details that came out after his death of the changes he’d made to his insurance policies and his final will and testament in the months leading up to the incident.

The shooting occurred on a weekday morning, and by the time the woman’s colleagues started suspecting something was wrong — she had not pitched up at the primary school where she taught — her husband was dead and she was lying next to him, conscious of having escaped death, but unable to move towards the phone.

She was eventually rescued by her colleagues and recovered physically from the ordeal, but whether she has fully recovered mentally, is another question.

She did, however, leave her teaching job to start a small business. I never saw her again after the party, but her courageous triumph over her circumstances remains with me as a lesson on moving on after a tragedy and facing the rest of your life the best way you can, one challenge at a time.

I may not know where these women’s lives have taken them, but I hope they are well and making waves around them. I hope there are young girls (and boys) who are benefiting from knowing these brave members of society.

Who are your women heroes?