Jennifer Khumalo stands meekly at an intersection on Jan Smuts Avenue in Rosebank, Johannesburg. In a black skirt and striped blue-and-white jersey she wore the day before, this 42-year-old blind mother of four mans her spot for about eight hours every day.
Dumisani Moyo, her 21-year-old brother, holds her hand, being the eyes that guide her through the swerving traffic. He clutches a peeling green enamel cup; passers-by peer at them through half-open car windows, sometimes dropping a few coins into it.
Many Zimbabwean nationals such as Khumalo and Moyo have found a place on corners and intersections throughout the city. ”We have nothing at home,” Khumalo says, ”There is nothing to eat, welfare doesn’t give us anything and there are children who have to go to school … so we came here.”
Wayne Minnaar, spokesperson for the Johannesburg metro police, says: ”It is just a source of income for them, to get a few cents for bread and just to survive.”
Khumalo came to Johannesburg in June this year, but says other Zimbabweans have been here since 2000 because it is ”better” in South Africa. ”People used to talk around where we stayed; they said it was easier to make money here,” she recalls of her decision to move. ”And it is better because at least here we have something.”
Most of the money they make through begging is sent back to Zimbabwe. Khumalo makes between R30 and R40 — between Z$1 097 and Z$1 462 — a day. Khumalo’s husband is also blind after contracting German measles as a child. He stands at a nearby intersection, helped by their 18-year-old son.
Together, the money they make goes to their three young children now living with a grandparent back home in Masvingo. Once a month Khumalo travels home by bus, taking the money with her. But for the rest of the time she lives in a flat in Yeoville, sharing a room with 10 other people.
”There are many there where we stay. We are 10 per room and all sleep on the floor. Rent is R10 a month per person,” Khumalo says.
”But these days there is no money,” she adds, referring to the amount she makes now compared with when she first got here. ”I want to go back home, but there is no work, and the family is waiting for the money.”
Reluctant
Many others like Khumalo were reluctant to speak when approached by the Mail & Guardian Online this week. Those who did speak to us declined to have their pictures taken for fear of backlash, saying it could affect them when they cross the border.
Admire Dingwiza and his brother-in-law Muchongwe Johane stand at different intersections along Empire Road. They refuse to be photographed.
”We are just looking for money for eating and for buying clothing,” Dingwiza says. He alternates his time between Johane and his sister Saliwe, who is Johane’s wife. Both the Johanes have been blind since childhood.
Starting at 7am each morning, Dingwiza estimates they make about R25 (Z$915) a day. The money goes to the Johanes, who help him out with food, clothes and a place to stay.
The Johanes came with him from Zimbabwe in 2005, and they all live together on End Street in Johannesburg’s inner city. Weekends are better because people tend to give them more money. ”But it’s too hard moving up and down,” Muchongwe Johane says. ”Some days I can have some problems of headaches, because of the sun or the cold.”
Dingwiza’s family lives in Zimbabwe, where his wife earns money by buying and selling or doing piece jobs. ”Life in Zimbabwe is very difficult, because of inflation, and there are no jobs or money. We are just sitting. There is nothing we can do,” he says.
He and the Johanes share a room with four other Zimbabweans. They pay a combined rent of R300 a month. ”There is no electricity, no bathrooms, but there is cold water. We just use dishes and fill them up to wash,” Dingwiza says.
Their roommates also beg for money at intersections along the city’s main routes. ”The metro police are sometimes a problem,” Dingwiza says. ”They harass us and tell us to stay away from the robots … and they can just ask for passports”
Says the metro police’s Minnaar: ”They are not allowed to be [begging at the intersections] and from time to time we do use the metro police bus to pick them up, bringing them to the station. But begging is not a serious crime; you can’t compare it to robbery, murder or rape.”
He adds: ”We communicate to them the disadvantages of begging, that they are in contravention of the by-laws and the Road Traffic Act, for their own safety … We sometimes take the Zimbabwean ones to Lindela [repatriation facility] or we fine them R100 … but after we release them, they go back there.
”It’s difficult to enforce these by-laws on blind beggars. For them it’s about a means for survival, and we can’t lock them up, so they will be back there the next day.”