UBUNTU
I am because we are
The aim of the series will be to challenge people’s conceptions and misconceptions about Africa, privilege and disability; help them to understand that people with disabilities are people first and foremost. They are equal to their non-disabled peers and that the use of an aid should be seen as merely a use of an aid, and not define a person.
Sian Davey - “this is a strong body of work, it is obvious that a lot of hard work has gone into this very personal project.
The book is great, the project is lovely, and the video is very moving, there is nothing I would change”.
“The spirit of Ubuntu - that profound African sense that we are human beings is not a parochial phenomenon, but has added globally to our common search for a better world” - Nelson Mandela
It’s cold, I am sitting in my campervan which is parked along Llandudno prom and it is almost midnight. The wind that is rolling in with the waves is the type that bites your skin and chills you to the bone, it sways the campervan providing a soothing motion, rocking my children into a peaceful slumber. The heater hums as it huffs and puffs, struggling to provide us with heat, I choose to take this moment to reflect on my recent trip to South Africa.
It’s hot, I am sitting in our hire car and we are finally approaching the school after a long and slightly unsettling journey, it is not every day you drive past men in balaclavas wielding machetes. Once we are through security, we find a shaded area to park the car and head into the school. There is no wind, no relief from the intense sun that is beating down on us. I am rather taken back when I finally take in our surrounding, it is not at all as I imagined it to be. There is activity all around us, people are working hard mowing the luscious green lawns and tenderly pruning the roses as well as various other magnificently perfumed flowers, the scent in the air is exquisite.
Anticipation surges, I am about to be reunited with my cousin Janine, my childhood best friend and partner during numerous adventures. It has been twenty years since I saw her last. We were separated when my parents fled the country and took us to safer pastures. As she approaches, I see her beautiful smile and welcoming arms, we hug squeezing tightly, trying to make up for twenty years of missed hugs. She meets my children for the first time and the warmth and love is humbling; I am suddenly saddened by the time we have missed.
Janine tells me that she gave up a well-paid teaching job in a private school in the city after the realisation that she was not following her heart. She took the job at this school and has never looked back. Janine was very excited to introduce us to everybody. She led us through double doors and the first thing that hit us was an overpowering antiseptic hospital smell. There were long dark halls reminiscent of a hospital ward, the building looked to date around the 1950s; it was very clean and well kept. My heart sank as we toured the halls; I noticed the exceedingly miniature wheelchairs and walking aids parked either side of the corridors and I wondered where their owners were. We were led into the first classroom and I heard someone cry “They are here, our British guests are here!”.
My main concern prior to arriving at the school was how I was going to gain the trust of the children. I am a stranger, arriving with a load of equipment and an agenda expecting them to comply. Naively, I thought that I could achieve this by fundraising and arriving at the school with useful equipment for the children, then perhaps they would reward me with their trust. I was wrong.
Walking into the classroom, we were greeted by a room full of the most uplifting smiles. The children were so excited to welcome us! Every child greeted each of us individually, including the children who had clear difficulties with verbal communication made every effort to join in. The children had all planned their own performance as a welcome gift upon our arrival. Janine informed us that the children had been apprehensive about how they were going to please us, and they wanted to show their gratitude for our visit. This is when I realised just how wrong I was.
Firstly, Wanga stood up, this was not a straightforward task for him. Janine introduce him and told us that he was going to perform a song for us, one which he had been practicing ever since he learnt of our visit. Every word that the boy sang was formed with such great difficulty due to his condition, making his performance even more cherished. The second performance was a dance. Janine introduced Katlego who then came to the front of the class and performed a lovely dance for us, again this was not a simple task, it was done with great determination and left him exerted due to his illness. The final performance was a group poem about a dinosaur and hearing the children’s voices echo in unison gave me goosebumps; it was a truly unforgettable moment.
The children all shouted good bye as we left, once again naming us all individually and thanking us for our visit. Once we stepped back into the corridor I was overcome with emotion, taking a deep breath for composure before we continued our tour. As children passed us along the corridor, they stopped to say hello or offered a high five, others whispered to one another, waving shyly from a distance.
Months earlier my aunty, Janine’s mother, had told me that the children who were none-able bodied had to sit and watch the able-bodies children play happily during break and lunch, without being able to participate. This did not sit comfortably with me and so a plan began to form. My aunty and uncle did all the technical planning and began to seek out engineers to design specialist equipment for wheelchair and walking aid use. I had promised to fundraise for the project immediately and so I started planning events in England.
They led us to the brand-new playground where the able-bodied children had been trained to safely operate the equipment, allowing them to independently work together without adult intervention, giving the children responsibility. To witness this interaction occurring in front of my eyes was surreal, I heard laughter and saw absolute enjoyment. The equipment I had seen drawn up in plans was now constructed and serving its purpose; it was bringing joy to all the children. The staff stood on the side lines smiling and I could see the delight in their faces too. Just for a moment I forgot how gravely ill some of these children actually were, and just for a moment, I smelt the perfume of the flowers rather than the sterile hospital wards.
When play time comes to an end our tour continues, we go to meet the psychologist. When we arrive at her office, she seems very pleased to meet us, but she is distracted, something is off, and she appears troubled. Janine picks up on it too and asks her if everything is okay? “I am worried Teacher Janine, there haven’t been any donations delivered again for the second week and the cupboards are bare, there is no food to give the children.” My family and I all look at one another in alarm and, without hesitation, I know we must help. Their conversation continues and she tells us that the weekend prior they had prepared food parcels for the children, as they do every Friday afternoon. The children stood patiently in a line waiting for their food, until they came to the end of the line where the last four children went away without any food to consume over the weekend. “I don’t know what to do Teacher Janine, we will have to send all fifty children away without food”. “No, you won’t”, I replied, “We will help you” and so I left with a promise that we would return the following day with enough food parcels for every child.
Once again, we continued on our way, we went to visit the dorm rooms of the children who stayed for full-time nursing care. The rooms were sparse and impersonal; the space felt clinical and the smell of antiseptic was overpowering, but you could see the effort that the staff attempted to make it more welcoming by displaying children’s artwork on the walls.
Next stop was the nursey, when Janine opened the door, we instantly heard a loud excitable giggle coming from the direction of the floor, there a baby boy was sat but was instantly on the move crawling towards me at a speed I didn’t think was possible for a baby! It took him seconds to climb his way up my legs and was settled in my arms with his face nestled into my neck. He then looked up at me and giggled in delight as if we had been friends forever and then went back to nestling. The nanny seemed alarmed that I may be offended but my feelings were quite the opposite. I think my heart doubled in size right there and then!
Finally, it was time for action, the reason I was there, my therapeutic photography workshop. My students were ready and waiting for me in the Lapa, which is a thatched African building separate to the main classrooms. Here I was introduced to some of the most inspirational young people that I have had the pleasure of meeting. The attitudes of these big personalities were so motivating, absolutely no illness, disability or deprivation was going to keep them from living their best life! We learnt, we laughed, made memories, took lots of photos and formed firm friendships. They were truly grateful for the workshop and enjoyed every aspect. Glitter was a very rare treat for the children, obviously our session had to end in an epic glitter fight!
Meeting Michelle was a moment I shall never forget. She manoeuvred her wheelchair over to me during afternoon break and said, “Teacher Julie, I have a surprise for you, when I knew you were coming, I started practicing my walking especially for you, watch me!”, Michelle shot out of her chair, somewhat wobbly and I held my breath as she stumbled, both arms were out beside her as she regained her balance. As her confidence grew, she started to twirl around and around, all the while I am on the edge of my seat, white knuckles and all, completely forgetting to breathe. Suddenly, Michelle is fatigued and falls to the floor to rest beside her wheelchair. She is completely satisfied by her demonstration and, at that moment, I grab my camera that is sitting on the floor beside me and capture that meaningful moment.
This action caught Michelle’s attention. “Can we take some more photos of me, Teacher Julie? I am very good at making some good faces.” And so it begins, the many poses of Michelle. This is the crucial moment that I realise I had unearthed my project. I wanted to present these images in the spirit in which they were taken, for example pleasure, fun and excitement for the Michelle.
I aimed for the viewer to look at the series, starting at photograph number one, where they would see a happy little girl enjoying, performing and acting for the camera. As the viewer looks through the series, they are able to see Michelle’s personality emerge and capture the happiness that she was experiencing. Michelle is depicted as an ordinary little girl having fun. The final picture shows the wheelchair that the she uses due to her mobility difficulties. The underlying message is that using a wheelchair does not take away any aspect of being a fun-loving little girl and that the connotations that people may hold about disability and the use of wheelchairs can be rejected.
The aim of the series will be to challenge people’s conceptions and misconceptions about Africa, privilege and disability; help them to understand that people with disabilities are people first and foremost. They are equal to their non-disabled peers and that the use of an aid should be seen as merely a use of an aid, and not define a person.
And this concludes my superb trip to South Africa. I must not forget to finish off by saying that we did return the following day, as promised, to replenish the food parcel cupboards, although sadly this would not last for long. I often think about those cupboards and hope to God that they are not empty.
Julie Pinington Wright
