/ 13 February 2004

‘Zimbabwe doesn’t give us a thing’

In recent months Johannesburg drivers have noticed a new phenomenon: blind people begging at traffic lights and major intersections. They are almost exclusively Zimbabwean, and their influx to the city has been sudden.

While the world’s attention has been focused on the plight of Zimbabwean farmers, journalists and opposition politicians, little thought has been spared for the effect Zimbabwe’s implosion has had on the most vulnerable members of that society.

For people with disabilities, many of whom survived through working at self-help schemes and on charitable donations, the current crisis has ripped away their safety net and pushed them to the margins of an already over-stressed society.

Most of the beggars are accompanied by a sighted companion who helps them navigate the traffic and proffer a plastic cup for donations from motorists.

Sunduza Ndlovu* is assisted by family friend Patricia Ncube. Day after day, the two stand in the blazing sun to earn a few rands and get a little to eat.

Their clothes are tattered and their shoes worn out. “Do you think we like looking like this?” asked Ncube, displaying her dirty feet in white plastic slip-slops.

Ndlovu and Ncube were initially reluctant to speak to the Mail & Guardian, fearing this would alert the authorities who might send them back home to Zimbabwe.

“We’re not getting enough money but it’s better than in our country,” said Ncube.

She said they make between R20 and R50 a day. Out of this they spend R14 on transport from downtown Jo’burg and are left with just a few rands for food. In a good month they manage to save a little to take home to Zimbabwe.

The money they make from begging pays for the trip home and some groceries for their families. “I’ve never stayed here for more than a month,” said Ncube. They enter the country on visitors’ permits, allowing them to stay a maximum of 21 days. They return home by bus, which is the cheapest form of transport, costing about R200 a trip.

“We are not ever, ever interfering with South African politics whatsoever,” said Ndlovu. “We, the disadvantaged people, need assistance from everyone who’s living on this Earth.”

The Zimbabwean state does pay a small social grant, but “our government gives us Z$2 000 per month only — and it’s nothing. We cannot afford a loaf of bread that costs $3 500,” Ncube said.

Zimbabwean Abigail Sibanda is very angry with her country’s government. She is sighted and accompanies her blind brother Samson to Johannesburg. They are unable to make a living in Zimbabwe. “Zimbabwe doesn’t give us a thing, not even a spoon of salt,” said Sibanda.

They pay R30 to R40 a week to rent a room in Johannesburg. The remainder of the money they make pays for Sibanda’s transport to Zimbabwe and for food for their two families. They share the money equally between them, buying food in Johannesburg because there is nothing to buy in their country. “There are good people in South Africa,” said Sibanda. “Only a few are not cooperating.”

South African Human Rights Commissioner Charlotte McClain represents the rights of children and the disabled. She said the meltdown in Zimbabwe has turned many of its people into economic refugees but those with disabilities are particularly vulnerable.

She says foreigners with disabilities cannot get government social grants in South Africa, unless they are granted refugee status. “They should go through normal procedures of seeking refugee status. There is no special category for the disabled.”

* Not her real name