20/01/2007 20:14 - (SA)
Lonely day at school for orphan Musa
Caiphus Kgosana
MUSA* is shaken out of his sleep with a gentle nudge at 6am. He wakes up to find his 13-year-old sister, Zama*, dressed in her uniform ready to go to school.
“Vuka!” she yells.
The seven-year-old is not used to getting up this early and repeatedly rubs his eyes as if to get the sleep out of them.
He climbs out of the bed he shares with his two sisters. It is unstable and is supported by four five-litre cans stuffed with soil.
Today is Musa’s first day at school.
The young boy from Bhekuzulu village, near Estcourt in KwaZulu-Natal, should be excited – but he has no reason to be. He will take his first long walk to school on an empty stomach.
His mom and dad are not there to share the moment either. They died of Aids-related illnesses and are buried side by side, a few metres outside the front door.
The United Nations Children’s Fund (Unicef) estimates that there are 15 million Aids orphans worldwide. South Africa accounts for 1.2 million orphans.
Unicef says 35% of orphans are in the 0-4-year age group while 50% are in the 10-14-year age group
Musa’s elder sister, 26-year-old Nobuhle*, lives with her boyfriend in Greytown. She hardly ever visits.
This leaves Zama, still a child herself, with the task of looking after herself, Musa, and their 10-year-old sister, Mbali.
Zama squats on the floor next to a bucket. She had earlier taken the water from a burnt-out aluminium kettle heated on a wooden fire in the kitchen.
She undresses Musa – brown sleeveless vest first, blue cotton underwear next – and leads him feet-first into the basin.
In her right hand is a damp face- cloth which they all share. In her left hand is a thin bar of soap that she rubs on the cloth before she runs it over Musa’s little body.
Neatly placed on a three-legged wooden table is Musa’s school uniform. Grey shorts, grey socks, a powder-blue shirt, black shoes and a navy-blue pullover.
The uniform was bought by their other sister, 17-year-old Nomsa, who holds down piece jobs at a beauty salon in town. She leaves at the crack of dawn and returns long after 7pm or sleeps over when she is short of taxi fare.
Zama dips her fingers into a jar of petroleum jelly and smears it over Musa’s body. She dresses him in clean underwear, socks, shorts, shirt, shoes and the pullover. It’s overcast outside, temperatures have dropped and his legs will be exposed to the elements. He badly needs long trousers but the family can’t afford them.
The three siblings need to start preparing for the 5km walk to school. They leave at 6.30am to avoid getting to school late.
Their home – a T-shaped, two-roomed mud structure – sits in a valley surrounded by green peaks.
It is also home to two large rats that have found a permanent home in the kitchen.
Tall wild grass surrounds their property and that of their neighbours. It provides food for the herds of cattle and goats that belong to their better-off neighbours.
Meandering, narrow footpaths lead to a gravel road that serves as an entrance and exit into this part of the village.
At 6.30am, the three hurry down the footpath. Zama firmly clutches Musa’s hand and leads the way to the local Bhekuzulu Primary School.
The narrow, grassy footpath dips into a waterlogged marsh, up a steep hill and on to flatland again.
Musa’s gloomy expression remains permanent. He never smiles and hardly talks unless he is spoken to by his elder sister.
Zama has passed in school and will be in Grade 7 this year while Mbali is in Grade 4.
At morning assembly, Musa takes his place among the other Grade 1 children and attentively listens as teachers welcome old and new learners.
At school, he struggles to adjust and keeps to himself. Isolated in his own world, he gazes into the distances at breaktime and does not join any of the many playgroups in the schoolgrounds.
Principal Jabulani Ngcobo knows the problem all too well. Children from child-headed households are common in his school and places an added strain on existing problems.
He says learners who head homes often forget they are children and are forced to grow up very fast.
“They are faced with problems that should be faced by adults, like ensuring there is food in the house and caring for younger siblings who are sick.”
Constant worrying about the situation at home often leads to a lack of concentration in class. This affects the learners’ performance at school and their schoolwork.
Says Ngcobo: “For starters, these learners can’t be at school when a younger sibling is sick at home. Then there are times that learners are absent from school to take care of themselves. It makes their school days even shorter.”
One organisation that has intervened to ease the plight of Aids orphans is the Bhekuzulu Self-Sustainable Project, a non-governmental organisation started by ex-teacher Fezile Radebe in 2004.
Radebe’s organisation brings some relief to Aids orphans by organising documentation which allows them access to social grants. It also provides people who are not in the social security net with two daily meals – before and after school.
Radebe is pleased that Musa’s parents at least left behind documents that will allow her to apply for social grants for the children.
But this is not always the case. In many instances, parents do not leave behind birth certificates when they die. This makes it almost impossible to apply for social grants for their children.
“Orphans have no-one to wake them up in the morning to prepare them for school. They have to do all that themselves. They have no-one to come home to after school, they rely on one another,” she says
According to Unicef, children orphaned by Aids might miss out on school enrolment, have their schooling interrupted or perform poorly in school as a result of their situation.
“Aids orphans might also leave school to attend to sick family members, to work or look after younger siblings,” says Unicef.
The organisation advocates keeping Aids orphans in school to give them an opportunity to escape from the vicious cycle of poverty and disease they are trapped in.
Zama says she wants to remain in school. She plans to become a nurse when she completes matric.
“I wanted to care for my parents when they were sick,” she says.
“I want to be a nurse so I can now care for other sick people,” she says with a faint smile on her face.
* Not their real names
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