/ 10 June 2008

‘But why? It is not fair’

Their pictures tell this story far better than I could ever write it. The man in flames keels over from the waist, calling for help as a figure with a flaming torch stands over him.

A man lies in a pool of blood. The speech bubble coming out of his mouth says: ”Please give my legs back.” A woman, with tears streaming down her face cries: ”My son, my son.”

A policeman leans out of his van and fires indiscriminately.

Men armed with bricks, knob­kerries and broken bottles stand jubilantly over a body. The words ”we do not want you in this country” are written again and again.

For many of Johannesburg’s children the nightmare of the past few weeks is far from over. Some have seen people beaten to death. Some have had their own homes burned to the ground.

And it’s not just the children of migrants and refugees who are affected: South African children have seen the adults of their neighbourhoods transformed into howling mobs, beating women and kicking babies.

At Troyeville Primary, where 30% of the pupils are immigrants, the shock waves still reverberate. Principal Pieter Joubert and his staff are the thread that holds it all together at the school, which for most pupils is the last vestige of order. Lessons are going ahead and two trauma counsellors have volunteered to work with the children.

”One counsellor told me she has never seen a child so traumatised,” Joubert says, shaking his head. ”The children try to be strong, but inside…”

He has had to cope with threats of attacks against the school and parents being assaulted as they walk to the school to collect their children.

Art therapist Michelle Booth works with small groups of children at the school, allowing them space to draw and talk about their feelings. She says most of the children attending her sessions are South Africans. They are all between 10 and 14 years old. ”I’ve been struck by the shock and fear they have experienced and by their sense of horror and ambivalence.”

Booth says many children are experiencing conflicts of identity, caught between victims and perpetrators. She shows us a piece of writing by an 11-year-old boy: ”I am also a Zulu, but now I’m not proud of it at all. I miss my refugee friends as they are not at school due to the xynophobic (sic) attacks. Only God knows what will happen from now.”

Others have been targeted because they speak sePedi or se­Sotho and no longer feel safe in their own country.

She says many children are traumatised by the graphic images in the media, ­particularly that of a man being burned alive. ”One child said he wanted to kill himself because things must be better in heaven,” says Booth.

Troyeville is a poor, working-class community and many of the children have not had an easy life. For refugee children fleeing violent conflicts in places such as Congo and Zimababwe, their illusion of a safe haven is shattered and old traumas reactivated. They feel there is no place for them in the world.

And for local children the experience has been overwhelming. One girl, who lost her mother last year, witnessed a crowd beating a woman and kicking her toddler. ”Her psyche is very fragile,” says Booth.

Scores of children are absent from school and many desks stand empty. Shadrack Mampuku (13) and his family, refugees from Congo, have lived in the courtyard of the Jeppe police station for the past two weeks. On Wednesday he walked out of the station and went to school. ”When I was coming, I felt afraid to see that I was walking and all the refugees were gone. All the people I used to see on the street were gone.”

He lost his uniform and school bag when his home was attacked. ”Mr Joubert gave me a book and a pen. It’s better to come to school than just sit at the police station.”
Joubert assures him he doesn’t have to walk if he wants to come to school: he’ll pick him up. Shadrack looks relieved.

He’s the eldest of five and worries desperately about his siblings. ”My sisters didn’t want to come to school, they were afraid to walk on the street. Also the girls don’t have uniforms, so they’re afraid the other children will laugh.”

The bright spot of his week was the visit by his South African schoolmates. ”Our head boy Thandanani came to visit us at the police station, with Nomsa and Thapelo. It made me happy. It made me feel some people care for us.”