The Price of a Dream

If I were to ask you how much you'd need to acheive your biggest wish, right now, what would it be? Ten grand? A million? How about 75 cups of coffee?

Nomasone is in her mid-30s. She's been HIV-positive for 6 years. She hasn't been able to work for quite some time due to weakness in her arms. Because of that, she's now homeless and without prospects. She's been sleeping in a church in Woodstock, a suburb of Cape Town. Because the church doesn't provide food, she is forced to scrounge for whatever she can. Most days she doesn't find anything and goes without, living on water and hope.

Nomasone has a 16-year-old daughter who she sees very rarely. She has never really lived with her daughter - due to her unemployment her daughter has stayed with her sister for most of her life. Her daughter goes to tertiary school (high school) in Simon's Town, a seaside village about 40km (26 miles) from Guguletu. She doesn't see her daughter very often because she has no money for cab or bus fare. Nomasone had another daughter who died from AIDS about 3 years ago at age 3.

Nomasone got hooked up with Sisi Yvonne at JL Zwane about a week ago. Originally, Nomasone was looking for help with her daughter's school fees. She owes the school about R5,000, and her daughter is at risk of being kicked out because of the debt. Yvonne will be calling the school to negotiate this down to a more reasonable number, maybe even to zero. However, once Yvonne found out the whole story, she knew that more had to be done. She arranged a meeting between the three of us to see what could happen.

When I met Nomasone she was very withdrawn. She wouldn't look at me or Yvonne. She wouldn't speak to me, saying she didn't know English well enough. It was like she wanted to run away but couldn't because she was desparate for help. She explained, through Yvonne, that all she wanted was to have a place where she and her daughter could stay together. She had found a plot of land in Guguletu's shack area but could not afford to build anything. She is very concerned for her daughter because of the high rate of violence against teenage and pre-teen girls.

A shack is literally four wood walls and a wood or tin roof. It will have a door, and maybe a window or two. They run about 10 feet by 10 feet in size, some larger, some smaller. A shack may house one person or a family of 6 or 8. A basic shack costs about R2,500 ($325) - R400 for each wall, maybe R140-280 for the rood. Usually a door can be scrounged up from older shacks. Furnishings can be built from scrap wood, bought used or obtained as hand-me-downs from people who were able to upgrade. All Nomasone wants is a basic shack with a primer stove (for cooking and heat) and a couple cupboards to store stuff away from the rats and insects.

Nomasone had already done the hard part: finding a plot in an already over-crowded area. In the "informal settlements" (the politically correct term for the shack slums) shacks are built on every possible piece of land, including drainage ditches and road easements. It was simple for me to offer to buy the shack for her. At that point, a flood of emotion let loose. Nomasone sobbed for about 2-3 minutes while Yvonne and I sat quietly. She looked at me for the first time, said thank you, and then we sat quietly for another short while. We then talked (her English was quite good) and I learned more about her and her life, stuff I wrote above. Because she hadn't eaten in over 36 hours, Yvonne arranged a plate of food and some items for her to take back to her sleeping place.

Friday we're all going to shop for walls and a roof. By next week Nomasone should be in her new home and she can make arrangements for her daughter to move in with her. Her daughter will then start school in Guguletu so mother and daughter don't have to be apart anymore.

So, I learned that sometimes dreams really can come true, and for a lot less than most people would think. Sometimes just 75 skinny lattes.