Johannesburg - Nkosi's Haven

On February 5th, I landed in Johannesburg, South Africa, after a twelve hour layover in London. Maybe it was my misconceptions, but Iwas surprised at what I saw. The skyscrapers, crime, and lack of a decent public transportation system made it fit to be a city right in the USA. Even the "bad areas", as described to me by the locals, seemed to have middle class or lower middle class housing. For awhile I didn't see any slums, with houses built of corrugated tin, which were all too common in South America.

That same day I landed I headed to begin my volunteer work at Nkosi's Haven, a safe place for Mothers with HIV and their children, some of which had HIV passed on to them at birth. The Haven provides food and medicines to everyone, along with a private education for all the kids, beginning with pre-school and even including college. There are three houses on the property, plus some office and storage space. In all there are around 12 mothers and 60 children living there, with several more living at the Village, a property nearby that they recently bought, which, when they receive the money needed, will be an even larger facility for even more mothers and children- over 100! There is already a full waiting list for the village.

In this place, it truly is the village that raises the children. Many of the children's mothers have already died of AIDS, and when one mother dies, another mother will look after the children. Because of this, the kids have a different sense of family. One five-year-old boy told me about his mother, and then about his other mother, and then about his other mother. He then told me about his many brothers and sisters. It seemed like everyone at the pre-school was his sibling.

Every morning we would go to help out the pre-school across the street from the Haven. There are over 100 kids, from ages 6 months to 5 years. Sometimes we would hand copy different worksheets for the kids, because they didn't have a photocopier. And, before we left, we would always help feed the babies.

I would always read to each of the classes. When the kids saw me carrying a book, they would all yell 'story time' and run for the steps. They would sit down, not without a little pushing and shoving, and start singing their storytime song. As I finished each page and showed them the picture, they would all say "woooowww".

When I finished, it was playtime. Although the play area was tiny, they all wanted to play hide and go seek, even though there was only one place to hide- a cut out in the wall of the school. So I would count, and they would all squeeze into this area. I would jump by and yell, and they all screamed and ran out. After four or five times of the exact same thing, I decided it was time for another game. The only other game they knew was called monster. For this creative game I would make monster noises and chase them. They would scream and run, but eventually I would tire out and need a break.

After we went back to the Haven we would have a lunch break before the kids came back from school. As I met the kids, I noticed that they were all so happy and full of life. They immediately welcome any person with hugs and kisses, or, as in the case with the older boys,with cool handshakes. Most weren't shy, and we became instant friends.

I knew that several of them had HIV. I couldn't help but wonder which ones, even though I didn't really want to know. I would think to myself "I hope Keneliwe doesn't have HIV. She's just the sweetest and smartest girl. Oh, and I hope Musa doesn't have it. He's so fun and nice, and a good soccer player." So many times I went through each of the kids, thinking this. But I knew several of them were infected. It was just so unfair that some of these beautiful kids wouldn't live to see their high school graduations, and that as they aged, they would slowly waste away and their energy would be sucked out of them, from no fault of their own.

But thankfully, as we played soccer and jumped rope, and as we pelted each other with water balloons on the sweltering hot summer days, I wouldn't think about these things. It was only back home, as I would lay in my bed or was alone, that it was hard to rid my mind of these thoughts. Back at the Haven, every day the kids would read, and we volunteers were all assigned 8 kids to monitor their reading and help them with their homework. One of the 8 was a young kid with reading troubles, with whom we would sit with 30 minutes each day to help them.

Sonto was the 6 year-old girl in my group. She couldn't read or count. One of the volunteers told me that she has epilepsy, and therefore can't concentrate for very long. She has had several violent seizures in her short life, and therefore her mother insists on sleeping with her, in the case that she would have another. And, instead of walking to school, Sonto is driven to school, paid for by her mother, because of the fear that she will have a seizure along the way. If this wasn't enough, she also has HIV.

I would sit with her and we would go over the different letters. We would play a little hide and seek game, so that she would practice counting. Other times, I would read her a book she would pick out. My last night, a Friday, I asked to stay at the Haven. We played games and did some skits, and the kids loved it. We then watched Shrek, with 50 some kids of all ages squeezed into a small room. Zintle, a third grader who asked me to be her Valentine on V-day, and Sonto laid on me as I fell asleep during the movie, which I very usually do.

I traveled through Zambia on my way to Mozambique where I am doing more service work. But I can't stop thinking about those kids and their mothers…For more information on Nkosi's Haven, visit their website. Or read "We are all the Same", a book about Nkosi and how the Haven came to be.