Broken images

Men do not attend St. Kizito meetings. Paul is an exception. At the township of Lentageur the other night, this small and gentle man described his difficulty in making home visits to vulnerable families. “The women are suspicious of men, afraid of them”, he said in answer to a question from Karen. He sees the fear in their eyes as they recoil to safety. He was touching on something here, something that men like him inherit from the behaviour of other men. A broken image.

I have seen this before. Catholic priests, devoted men, exemplary lives. Some of them say they get the same knowing look even from close family, a look that says “are you like those others who have abused children?” They too feel soiled by the behaviour of other men.

Paul, and other men like him, climb this mountain alone, each step making a firm foothold before the next step is made. Every solid and honest encounter with women and children is a building block in a restored image. Trust is remade the hard way and only the braveheart sets out on the journey.

The R27 runs from Cape Town to Milnerton and beyond to Blaauberg then on to Velddrif before it becomes another number and ends up in Namibia. The city is funding a multi million rand road transit system that reaches Blaauberg. Rumour has it that once the world cup is done, the new buses will be mothballed and the system will be suspended. In the meantime, a report in the Cape Times gave details of an incident involving one of those ubiquitous white taxi’s which ferries people to and from the township settlements. On pulling one over, the police counted out 103, that’s one hundred and three, children. They are licensed to carry eighteen! We struggled with the maths and the packing skills of the driver. We struggled too with the bent logic of the city fathers and their priorities. The taxi men, by the way don't want this state of the art system. It will put them out of business!

Our rented home overlooks the lagoon at Milnerton. The other morning in the early fade of orange that highlights everything like dew, I caught sight of five magnificent pelicans working the water like silent cruise ships. When they are contemplating a take off, they raise their giant wings in preparation. I rushed for my camera. I missed the picture I had already formed in my mind and witnessed instead their majestic flyover. I dedicate this exquisite blend of pleasure and frustration to my friend Stephen Garnett whose similar stories are most probably numbered in the thousands.