Dis my reg, dis my reg, dis my reg vir wat ek veg.

The bottom feeders in humanity are rising against the big fish.
Many of the worlds nations are either in a war situation or are experiencing strike action.

We are entering an era when those who have been suppressed up to now are demanding equal opportunities in life.

I was reading about a domestic worker who does not only have to financially support her own children but also the seven children of her sister and brother-in-law who both passed away; I presume they had aids.

We should all hang our heads in shame that we are so busy chasing our own wealth that we neglected the education of the “want them to disappear” people who live in tin shanties at the borders of big cities.

• Every citizen should have the right to know his or her aids status.
• Every citizen of the world should know the importance to be informed about aids.
• Every citizen should understand his or her responsibilities regarding this condition.
• People with aids should be encouraged to take birth control measures in addition to using condoms.
• People with aids should not have intercourse with non-infected people even if they use condoms.
• No child should have to grow up without parents.
• No child should have to look after younger siblings before they had a chance to enjoy a natural childhood.
• All children should have the right to have a suitable education, love, support, shelter and food.

Child abuse and neglect is a cancer in humanity.

Those should be basic human rights.

Of wat se ek alles

Dear Mr. President,

Dear Mr. President, (Original post from http://grannypolitics.iblog.co.za/)
It is still a freezing cold winter morning outside.

It is early still. The time that people leave their homes to go to work.
A woman walks past my window. She looks like someone’s mother.
Her skin is drawn and her young face is wrinkled like that of a woman twenty years her senior.
She is thin. Her legs are bare and her bare feet are inside thin damp shoes. A thin sarong (for a skirt) covers the lower half of her body. A worn, thin, long sleeved faded sweater covers her upper half.
Under her arm she clutches a bag that met its last owner.
She walks as brisk as she can because it keeps her body warm so she can not feel the cold …….
So she can not feel her tummy aching for food. So she can not remember sending her children off to school without something to eat or drink this morning.
Her eyes scan the houses for one that looks friendly. One that may give her a job this morning.

The vision of getting some money to buy soup bones, maze, bread and beans to prepare a meal for her family tonight keeps her going. She can see her children filling their tummies and laugh a joke …… and dream about a better tomorrow. The one president Zuma promised.

She disappeared down the road. I reach out for my cup of tea and wonder what I would put on my toast this morning, honey or marmalade.

Somewhere far away, our country’s leaders are recovering from indigestion brought about from the rich breakfast they just indulged in. They have a full schedule. Many important decisions to make. There are the issues of the mines, the strikers, the economy and the upcoming summit. Yes, there are lots to deal with before lunch.

See how many days until
We reach our goal to MAKE POVERTY HISTORY by 2015

(http://sites.google.com/site/unityinafrica/)

Of wat praat ek alles

Bin People

The bin people - Cape Town suburb.10-06-2009

The activity at the garbage bins is a social indicator for a region.

No activity would mean that the poverty needs of a community are being met.

Today is bin-day. (Wednesdays is the day that we all one wheel our wheelie-bins outside onto our driveways in readiness for the garbage disposal truck.)
They have a golden rule: "whatever is not inside the bin will not be collected" So food, clothing or newspapers must be put inside the bin for the poorest of the poor to collect before the truck arrives.
It is a weekly ritual in our neighborhood.
The lucky organized bin-scavengers come in groups of two or more and neatly pack their shopping trolleys. They stack the trolley neatly and tightly to fit as much recyclable into it as they can. Their dedication to the job is the same as with any other job. This is their living.
Then you have the newcomers. They are not organized yet. The lucky ones carry rug sacks but the very new, Zimbabweans and other newcomers to the area, just have plastic shopping bags. Most of them are looking for food.
There is another brand of the rug sack brigade that has a criminal intent. They look for documents and ID papers.

I heard the shopping trolleys being pushed down the road very early. Were they the early-birds who wanted to catch the best recyclables? --- Or was it the house breakers making for the taxi rank to get to the buyers early?

Both sound the same
They both use shopping trolleys. (Theft of a shopping trolley in South Africa is regarded as a human right.) Stolen shopping trolleys are paid for by the consumer.

I have noticed more bin-scavengers with rug-sacks and very few trolleys this last month.
I have seen more people scratching the bins for food, but today it is very quiet in our street.
Yesterday I saw a woman sweeping the street. It was unusual, because there was not much rubbish in the gutters.

Last week there were a few people looking for newspapers and the box of newspapers I put into my bin was quickly snapped up.
.
I have not seen the glass collectors for a while.
I placed a box full of newspapers on top of my bin this morning, but no-one was interested.
I also put two cracked fish tanks next to the bin for the glass collectors, but it did not draw any interest.

Are the workers at the municipal offices waiting for community work opportunities?
Is the government succeeding in providing work?

The bin people and those hopefuls at the corners of the streets will be the measurement of how well the government fulfills its promise.


Of wat praat ek alles

Rotten apples no food for a nation Sunday

2008 October 19

My eyes caught the television screen. The sound was off so I noticed the imagery rather than listen to the words behind the film.

I watch the wedding preparations of a wealthy African couple. The glamour and glitz is something like from a fairy tail. It must have cost millions.

I do not know who got married, on this day, and I do not want to know.

A message came clear to me. Here is an African couple that can spend the amount of money, in a few hours, which could have been housing and feeding a whole township of homeless for more than a month. There must be rot in the apple of African society if the gap between rich and poor is so great.

Does the money that is being poured into Africa, to make poverty history, reaching the poor, or making them even poorer.

Does BEE empower the unemployed, or just creating a different, even bigger group of unemployed?

If I were that couple, whoever they are, I would not be proud of spending that much money, even for the biggest day of my life. One can go overboard if one considers the suffering of other.

Then again, if I turned the sound of the television set on, I may have felt different. However - the argument stands.