Goodbye Cape Town.....Real World Tourism

Rodger....this where the real world tourism begins

Warning ---- the story is long


Rodger turned out to be most likeable of my motley crew of homeless characters but the one that gave me the most angst.

A 20 year old Xhosa ( though he was 21 when we first met! ), gangly, a bit of a goofy character, born in, of all places, Camps Bay. As well as several "at home" days, I took him on a trek up Table Mountain as well as on an outing to Century City shopping centre to collect a new camera. During these times, he would gabble away about life in general and particularly about his spiritual beliefs. Even though a christian, he still adhered to ancient Xhosa customs with the worship of ancestor and other fantasy spirits that inhabit their world. I never quite knew if he was speaking from a deep knowledge of the subject or he made it up as we went along. He had only spent a few months within the Xhosa homeland of Eastern Cape during the period in which he undertook initiation and circumcision ceremonies. When he told me he strongly believed his departed ancestors were looking after him, I did think to myself they were not doing a very good job as his life appeared to be a string of disasters. If something could go wrong, it would happen to Rodger.

When descending from Table Mountain, coming around the slopes of Lion's head, he spotted a special bush that when burned inside helps drive out evil spirits. He collected some and offered to rid my place of said evil spirits. I declined his kind offer. There were lots of stories of spirits that appear as snakes and other animals.

He has 2 sisters and part of his childhood was spent with his mother's extended family. He told me a lot of bad things had happened in his life and I wouldn't want to know about them!

He asked if I would give if R60 so he could get an Identity Document. I was surprised he didn't have one as you are a nobody in South Africa without one. You can't vote and getting a job almost impossible. I said no but I would go with him to get one. Back to the infamous Dept. of Home Affairs ( remember my story on getting a visa extension ). The photos cost R28 and then the fun started. To make an initial application, you need your mother's ID number. He didn't know then explained that his mother was living in an Old Person's Hospital. However, the receptionist explained that their supervisor has access to wider range of data on her computer so we should go through to the next department to see if she could find a record of his birth on the supervisor's computer. The supervisor stays firmly in her office so all flow of data had to be transported by a lesser being. The next lass did one inquiry and came back with a negative...they couldn't track his birth from the date and place of birth given. He must get his mother's ID number. So we arranged for him to journey to his mother's hospital in a hope he may be able to retrieve her ID number. As I was about to see him go, I said we don't know how much the actual application costs so back we went to check. We were told it's free and then we ran into one of the only public servants I have met with a real intention to help. She must have been a new innovation within the dept., dressed in orange vest with a job as a roving helper. So she then attempted again to travel back and forth several times to the supervisor with as much data as she could illicit from Rodger but failure again...he just didn't seem to exist. I learnt that Rodger is not his real name and that he even had difficulty spelling his two given names.

Later in the day, he came back to my place all excited with a receipt of his application. He had seen his mother and learnt that sometime during his early years, she had told a lie about his birth date so he could get into a sports team and had neglected to correct this over the years. So now Rodger was instantly one year younger. He was also told by the hospital manager that his mother is not getting a small portion of her pension that is allocated to all inmates for such things as cigarettes and other personal supplies. Apparently her sister was collecting the money ( about R120 per month ) and not handing it on so he wanted Rodger to come back next Wednesday for a meeting in which he should sign over his mother's allowance to the hospital directly so his mother was sure of getting the allowance. As Rodger had been unreliable with me in the past, I didn't expect him to go. So I was pleasantly surprised that he had taken this responsibility seriously and had managed to get the money to travel back out to the Cape Flats to attend the meeting and sort out his mother's affairs.

Some time later I met Rodger along the beach road, absolutely distraught. Somebody had stolen the small bag he usually carried that contained everything he owned that he wasn't wearing. All the homeless each have a special hiding places to stow any gear during daylight hours.

The next drama was when he told me he was suffering from an infection and the description pointed towards a STI ( STD in other parts of the world ). Apparently Marianne had given him a small present! I told him to go to the health clinic, he will be tested and given the necessary medication. He was most hesitant and later admitted he was worried because they will test him for HIV as well. He went on that he would hang himself if he was found to have HIV and I pointed out that he would die young anyway if he had HIV and didn't get treatment, that HIV is not a death sentence these days and with regular and ongoing treatment, you could live to a ripe old age. I then learnt that one of his sisters has AIDS. HIV and AIDS are difficult topics in South Africa. The previous president, Thabo Mbeki, had some rather weird beliefs about this scourge and didn't believe HIV was a precursor to AIDS and hence held back any HIV/AIDS prevention schemes getting up and started with the result South Africa has one of the highest infection rates in the world. There is also a reluctance by many black men to use condoms with the result many young people play a form of Russian roulette with their lives. Some also believe that they can either be protected from HIV or cured by tribal medicine, black magic or other animist beliefs.

Admitting you have HIV/AIDs will see you ostracized by your community...or so they believe.

Even though most of you will have seen the current president, Jacob Zuma as a buffoon who practices polygamy, keeps a string of mistresses, has over 20 children and has been charged with corruption and rape ( though acquitted ). However, he does appear to be doing good things with HIV/AIDS. I saw him on TV last week saying he had been tested for HIV. His government is implementing a programme to encourage every South African to be tested on an annual basis. The tests are free. The results are available within 15 minutes. You can collect free condoms all over the place. He is attempting to take the negative stigma out of the curse and I applaud him for this.

I explained to Rodger that if he didn't get treatment "it" would drop off, he wouldn't be able to have children, he will infect others should he practice unsafe sex again and then die a very painful death. I'm not sure how much of all of this was high drama but in the end he gave into a bribe of a CD of his favourite band. We were now into Saturday so we went down to the health clinic at the Waterfront to discover that they were closed for the remainder of the weekend and would also be closed for a public holiday on Monday. Eventually I got him organised to go back to the clinic the next Friday and again the problem of bureaucracy. The receptionist started rolling her eyes after name, address.....he's homeless remember. So I intervened to stay " Look, he's a homeless kid with an infection...I have cleaned him up to come here for treatment!" Not a silly hat approach but it worked and she eventually found him on the health system computer, got to see a doctor, samples taken and medication prescribed and issued. He was told to come back on Monday for the test results. He turned up on time to have a shower Monday and off we went to find out if he had HIV or not. I must admit I don't know what I would have done if he was positive though I did think that the most likely outcome.

The good news was a negative result and as expected he was over the moon. Out he came with big smile and even bigger box of condoms!

So off to buy the CD and a meal at Steers ( a local McDonald's like chain ). On the way walking back to Sea Point, I stopped over at Telkom for another attempt at closing my accounts. He earned R10 for looking after a bicycle insecurely attached to the back of a Landrover. In what turned out as an evil omen, he also met an estranged friend who he used to share living space in Green Point but had fallen out over something he wouldn't tell about some months ago.

I was leaving my apartment Easter Monday so arranged for him to visit Friday to collect stuff I was discarding and to collect a few of his spare clothes he had left there. Friday and Saturday passed and no Rodger.

On Sunday, I started making inquiries within my friends on the foreshore and one indicated he had heard Rodger had been picked up by the police. So down to the police station at the other end of Sea Point to ask if they had him. No. I've been in Africa enough to know that no doesn't always mean no so I just asked the same question different ways and eventually found out he had been arrested Thursday afternoon. Lucky Rodger...getting locked up just before the longest public holiday of the year. I asked why and they told me he had been arrested for being in possession of a spark plug...A SPARK PLUG I thought... They then went on to tell me that if you place the pointy end of a spark plug in your mouth and then throw it at a car window, the glass shatters. I don't understand the science but that's what he was arrested for. I asked if I could see him and they agreed. It was an all female crew on duty and the senior watch officer suggested I bring him some food. I said "doesn't he get fed" she said "yes but just bread". Anyway I got to see him...in a very sorry state in what looked like an exercise yard outside the cells like those you see for mangy bears in poor quality zoos. He asked if I was going to "appear" in court so I asked what happens now and was told he would be transported to the Magistrates Court 8:30 Tuesday morning. I purchased a food parcel and brought this back to the police station. They did a cursory inspection and I handed it to him. Monday was a busy day for me, the final clean of the apartment and move to a B & B in Green Point. I purchased more food, I knew extra would be required as he had some rather unsavory looking cell mates, and as well took down some clean clothes he could wear in court next day. This time the all male crew kept me waiting for over ½ hour but didn't check the parcel except at the last moment said " there are no cigarettes in there are there?". No worries about guns or other escape implements! Rodger asked again if I would be in court and I said I would try. ( he later told me the other inmates were no trouble and yes he did share the food ).

So off to court I go. I met Henri at the railways station. He said he would show me how to get there.

The court process works very slow, especially after a long weekend. The prosecutors closet themselves in one small room and go over all the dockets the police from all the outlying stations bring in. As well, the police bring in those they still have in custody and those who were released on bail wait outside this room to find out which cases the prosecutors have accepted. After 2 -3 hours they issue a list of all those whose cases will be heard that day and those not on the list go free. Rodger's name was last on the list.

However, while I was waiting among all these petty criminals for this first verdict, I met and had a long chat with a coloured lawyer, in his 40's who explained court processes, problems with the judicial system and so on. He was also waiting to see one of the prosecutors to plea for a case to dropped on "moral' groups. His client, a female divinity student, had been caught drink driving and was way over the limit but as a conviction would ruin her career ( and she was an A level student ) there are mechanisms within the system for a case to be dropped on these "moral" grounds. I did also question in several different ways whether there was corruption in the court system but he never took the bait, explaining that it is mostly fair. The major problem is logistics and court inefficiency. He explained that during his career, he had been asked to be a Magistrate in a small town to sort out similar problems and explained how he got everything under control. He had so much spare time that he could help out in other nearby courts as well. Another gripe he had was that the Justice Dept. had set up their own practice to conduct legal-aid cases. In the past, any person without means was allocated a private lawyer with a standard set of fees paid for the case by the government. ( this fact would become important later ). Obviously there was self-interest here as he had obviously lost business by this move by the Justice Dept.. The salaried lawyers in this new "practice" are mainly young and working on their articles.

For my case, he explained that Rodger probably wasn't released on bail because he was homeless and a flight risk. However, he did explain that there is a "night court" where the police can obtain court approval to keep someone in custody beyond the normal 48 hours, even during long weekends.

So down to court 15 to await the trial. I had already met the prosecutor during my travels around the court building, trying to get my bearings. The case being heard at the time was of a group of 3 young men caught in a restaurant ( they worked there ) with a credit card skimming device. This was not their first appearance as this time one of them pleaded guilty and the case against the other two was subsequently dropped, though the lady judge to indicate she knew what was going on and further that there were other bigger fish further up the chain. He was given a fairly large fine or a sentence of 12 months should he not pay. These procedures are slow because everything is said twice if a defendant nominates to be heard in another language besides English.

Then it was Rodger's turn, coming up from the dungeon below after the clanging of large keys. And what a disaster it turned out to be. In his wisdom, he turned down the chance to have a legal-aid lawyer and nominated to conduct his own defense. He then proceeded to plead guilty to the charge. I couldn't hear or understand everything that was being said but I thought he not only pleaded guilty to being in possession of an implement that could be used to break into vehicles but also had the intention of doing so!!! The judge said she was going to ask him some questions and that he did not have to answer any question if he thought he might incriminate himself. His explanations were not very convincing and I will not go into all the details here. I did say to myself "how could I know someone so stupid?" And would have cried if I was predisposed to that sort of thing. The kid had been locked up without any legal help for nearly 5 days and was quite out of his depth. I did think that in the old South Africa, you had no rights if you were black, now you have no rights if you are poor!

The case was suspended until 14 May for sentencing. He was to be released and be back in court then.

I had the court interpreter take me out to the area where prisoners were released. He did explain that Rodger probably could still change his mind on legal advice and get a legal aid lawyer on the 14th

I asked Rodger why he did what he did and on legal advice, his explanation was simple but dated. Legal aid lawyers want you to go to jail as this prolongs the case with the appeals and they get paid more. He also didn't think he pleaded guilty to "having an intention to do so" but I still think that is what the judge understands. A day  or so later I learnt that his "beach" advisors had recommended that he not turn up at court on the 14th.

I left the country on Thursday..........


Even I grow tired writing this missive so a aprt 2 may be required. Updates will be supplied later though this is the last homeless person of Cape Town in this series.