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'Our Loss Has Brought Us Together'
Mail & Guardian (Johannesburg)
January 30, 2003
Segomela, 59 years old and sickly, conveys a resolute strength and acceptance about her life. She laughs a lot, though her laughter is tinged with a sense of sadness and regret.
Segomela and her grandchildren moved into the house after they were forced out of their previous home by the taunting and criticism of neighbouring families.
The taunting came because her daughter was HIV-positive and died of Aids-related illnesses in 1999. Her granddaughter, Mpho, 10 years old, was born with the virus.
Even now, the family suffers.
"If people come to your house, they won't drink your water or tea. And it hurts. It hurts."
Mpho is extremely close to her grandmother and stays home to look after her when she is sick. The young girl is healthy, though there are concerns she may be reaching a terminal stage of her illness. She is currently being treated for opportunistic infection but the family cannot afford anti-retroviral treatment.
Segomela supports herself and her grandchildren on her monthly pension of R650.
She is also one of 30 grandmothers who are part of a "gogo support group", started and organised by sister Rose Letwaba of the Alex-Tara Children's Clinic, based at the East Bank Clinic in Alexandra.
Mpho is also part of a support group at the clinic for children who are HIV-positive. The role of the children's clinic is to provide support for children suffering from psychological distress or mental illness. However, in 2001, Letwaba saw that there was a need to provide support for grandmothers who had to look after their orphaned grandchildren. "Every time when the grannies were bringing the children, I could see the sadness. So I thought maybe by bringing the grannies together and sharing their experience of loss, they could really comfort each other," says Letwaba.
The group started with three grandmothers - now there are two support groups running, catering for 30. The majority of these grandmothers have lost children, mainly daughters, to Aids-related illnesses. When the groups begin running again next month 40 grandmothers are expected.
The groups began as counselling sessions, where the grandmothers would come together to share their pain and experiences.
"At first everybody was feeling so overwhelmed. Because of the stigma attached to Aids, even in the group they didn't want to speak. When they established a trusting relationship they could talk about it freely," says Letwaba.
The grandmothers share a number of emotional and practical problems, including their grief for the children, their families being teased and humiliated, as well as difficulties in getting foster-care grants to support their grandchildren.
The grandmothers also provide moral and practical support for one another in times of difficulty.
"On my side I think it has been very successful in dealing with loss. The loss has been something that has brought us together," says Letwaba.
The first group of 15 people has begun to move beyond their trauma and has started positive projects, like making beadwork to sell for a trust fund for the orphaned children, and creating gardens to provide food for their households.
The clinic also raises money for food parcels for the children as well as for school uniforms and fees.
Segomela has found friendship and comfort in the group. She says: "The group is active. They don't look like grannies. They've got jobs, they're doing all these funny things. If you're there, you feel at home. You don't want to go back to that one room ... Sometimes when you are at home, you feel that you could go to the clinic and sit, to avoid what you hear."
Despite the closeness between her and her grandchildren, home life is often difficult.
"Sometimes, we are all sad in the house. There's no one to say cheer up," says Segomela.
Sixty-two-year-old Magdalene Ramo-kobo joined the group after her two children died in 2000 and 2001 of unidentified illnesses and she was left to look after her grandson.
She says: "I was so sick. I was sick in body and soul. I didn't do anything. So I came here. I joined the group. They helped me a lot. They talked to me. And after that, we prayed, we cried, we laughed, we did everything. And now I'm all right. I have good friends here."
The pain of her children's' death remains, though.
"I do suffer, because you can't forget what has happened. Because every time you look at the child, you remember the parent," says Ramokobo.
In spite of the comfort of the support group, life is still hard for many of the grandmothers. Joyce Mosweu, a member of the group, is still waiting for her foster-care grant to come through, and battles to even feed her two granddaughters after their mother died of Aids-related illnesses in 2000.
"I'm still short. Even now I haven't got a penny to buy bread. My pension money doesn't go anywhere. Even Christmas, I didn't buy them clothing for Christmas. Things like that the children need," says Mosweu, who becomes tearful when speaking.
"My grandchildren are still missing their mother. But I'm scared that when they grow up they'll meet somewhere with that HIV."
At present the "gogo support groups" are not funded, though the trust fund for the orphans receives funding from the National Lottery, the Mandela Children's Fund and a number of individuals. All the grandmothers are grateful that the group exists.
Says Petronella Makhanya, a member of the group: "What they've done for me, I pray that God can help them. They mustn't do it for me only, they must do it for everybody."
Letwaba, who won the Cecelia Makiwane Nursing Award in 2002 for her work with the group, is confident about the future of the groups and hopes they will grow.
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