Ntombizandile Mqulo wakes up each morning with a difficult decision: should she take her son to work and make more money to feed him, or should she leave him in a pre-school but have less money to survive?
Mqulo works at the corner of Jan Smuts Avenue and Empire Road, one of the busiest intersections in Johannesburg, where she stands at the robot as hundreds of cars pass each day. She is a Homeless Talk vendor, or as she prefers to call herself, ”a beggar with a newspaper”.
The vendors stand at many of Johannesburg’s busiest intersections and are easily recognisable by their yellow bibs and piles of the newspaper.
Homeless Talk was started in April 1994 by a group of concerned people who wanted to empower the homeless and create employment. But most drivers who stop at the robot either ignore Mqulo or smile at her toddler.
”I make about R40 a week when I’m alone. When he is with me I get about R120,” she said. With the extra R80 Mqulo can pay for more papers to sell and buy food for Semanga.
Standing on the concrete strip with her baby on her back, Mqulo braves the elements and the traffic. Posh city moms who have just collected their children from after-school activities consider the yellow-bibbed newspaper seller less threatening than the beggars with cardboard signs who compete with Mqulo for motorists’ attention.
Mqulo has been selling Homeless Talkfor two years. ”I see myself as a beggar. This bib is just a device or a means to beg.”
Some days she sells no papers at all, though she might receive a few coins from passing motorists. The vendors pay R1,50 for each copy of the newspaper that they sell for R3.
The newspaper is used as an income-generating project for the unemployed and the homeless, says Claire Sabbagha, communications officer for Homeless Talk.
Mqulo is an attractive 22-year-old despite her threadbare jersey and broken shoes. She said men pass lewd comments and offer her money for sexual favours, but she ignores them. Her biggest problem is that she speaks no English or Afrikaans and therefore cannot find employment.
After hours in the traffic it is clear that Semanga is tired. He has also developed a persistent cough. ”Tomorrow, I will take him to the clinic,” Mqulo said.
”In winter I will take him to the pre-school. I do not have money now. It costs R30 a month and I need money to buy the newspapers.”
Mqulo does not know that the pre-school fees were lowered this year to R15 a month. The Homeless Talk pre-school was established last year to care for the vendors’ children. These youngsters must otherwise brave the elements as they solicit coins from passing motorists.
”Over the years, members of the public have felt that these children are being deprived of their basic human rights … This pre-school provides a safe environment where they can receive food, shelter and education,” said
Sabbagha.
The school was founded as a joint venture with a national radio station and a community organisation, but it now faces a financial crisis. ”The cost of operating and maintaining the pre-school is about R9 000 a month. Without much-needed funding the Homeless Talkvendors’ children will be back on the streets,” said Sabbagha.
The pre-school, at St George’s Church in Joubert Park, provides care for about 60 children aged six months to six years.
On a cold morning this week the Toddlers’ Room is filled with 10 babies who play on the bare concrete floor. Abigail Mathabula, the principal, holds a crying baby on her back and another in her arms. She said some days the class has about 18 toddlers whose moms only return at about 6pm. ”We have never sent a child away if the mother cannot pay.”
Some desperate vendors’ infants never make it to the haven. The children elicit more pity from motorists and help their mothers earn more money, but that is child labour, said Mathabula. ”The mothers can make an extra R20 with the child, but then she has to spend it on food. Here at the pre-school we feed them three times a day with fruit and juice.”
Mathabula said the pre-school gives the children the opportunity to
become familiar with a schoolroom environment. ”We speak English to them, so they can pick up the language. The children do not grow up as street kids. They are safe and warm here.”
Mathabula recognises that the mothers do not want to harm their children. But many of the moms are illiterate and do not understand the importance of pre-school training.
”Motorists should not support the mothers with babies, but rather put the money in the pre-school account so we can look after the children.”
She said it is difficult to convince mothers that their children need education. ”All the vendors know we have a school.”
Hleziphi Shabalala, another vendor, leaves her two-year-old at the school every day. She says there is no monetary difference when she takes Nothile with her to sell newspapers. Shabalala pays R390 to rent a small room in Hillbrow. She has a prime spot and most days makes about R30. She takes her daughter to the pre-school even when she has no money to buy a stock of newspapers.
”Like many others, Nothile only eats a balanced meal when she is at the school,” said Mathabula.
”We would like to see all the children in the pre-school, but this is a sensitive issue,” said Sabbagha.
She says the organisation needs to educate the mothers about the importance of pre-school development for the children. ”We are looking at implementing a vendors’ code of conduct where mothers will not be allowed to take their children on the streets.”
The organisation aims to create more care centres outside the city centre that could help with the problem.