Give them to Village Health Workers, that’s what!!!

Yesterday, a truck full of 500 fully grown chickens was delivered (from funds raised by ASAP) to be distributed among 33 VHWs. That’s 15 chickens a piece! The chickens went to some of our most dedicated VHWs (and a few VHW who maybe didn’t deserve it, but they always get preferential treatment). The idea was to give chickens to those VHWs who are cooking for orphans and have prosperous gardens with good permaculture technique. These are indigenous laying hens, and the eggs will be a welcome source of protein for the orphans.

There are 13 other chickens in that box!

Like everything else here, it was chaotic. We had specifically asked Nokulunga (the head of permaculture) and her assistant to collect boxes all over town for the VHWs to put their chickens in. Guess how many boxes they collected — NONE! We’ve learned not to be surprised when stuff like that happens (ALL THE TIME). The project manager told the VHWs to bring their own boxes. Apparently, she (and our new youth coordinator) think we coddle our VHWs too much and they need to get their shit together and fend for themselves! Tough crowd! So, not everyone brought boxes (again, no big surprise) and we were then scrambling around to get boxes. While they waited for boxes, Nokulunga and a few VHWs stuffed chickens into an abandoned truck. They were really crammed in, and sadly, a few of ‘em died from suffocation. Only three. Three of out 500 ain’t bad!

VHWs with their chickens

It was an exciting day and everyone seemed soooo pleased to have chickens! The hope is that they will breed the chickens and it can become a mode of income generation. They’ll have chickens to sell, chickens to keep, and eggs to eat!

Happy Chicken Day!

Exec Committee member picking up her chickens

This past Saturday we were cordially invited to a party at the home of Sylvia Nqenqa to celebrate her coming out of mourning. One year ago, Sylvia’s husband passed away, and on the day of his funeral, her house also burned down from an accidental candle fire. Poor Sylvia! Fortunately, there were a few small shacks on her property so she was able to move into another space while renovating, but it was a really devastating blow.

Sylvia Nqenqa

Apparently, mourning is a tradition introduced by missionaries — nothing African about it — and part of the tradition means dressing in dark clothes. For one year Sylvia has worn the exact same navy blazer, powder blue cotton sweater, head scarf, and formless navy skirt…. So you can imagine how exciting it was when the year was up and she got all new clothes, and gifts to replace the items destroyed in the fire!

Sylvia's brother-in-law

Our ASAP boss was in town, so she bought a really nice set of China to take as a gift from the entire Hlomelikusasa staff. We were very excited to go, although it rained the entire night before and the road was a mess. The rural areas are impossible to get to w/o a 4-wheel drive. Even w/ our driver, Themba, behind the wheel we eventually had to get out and walk the last 200 yards.

Singing and Dancing

We were greeted with songs and dancing, and Sylvia Nqenqa–practically glowing in a beautiful new dress made with fabric brought to her from Johannesburg. She was very honored that Hlomelikusasa came to celebrate with her and her family on this special day. There seems to be an uncomfortable dynamic between Sylvia and our project manager. Back in the day (when they were doing Red Cross), Sylvia was her boss, but now that S. is just a village health worker, the power has shifted. But none-the-less it was a festive day, and we seemed to be honored guests.

In fact, we were such honored guests that they slaughtered a sheep for us. Um … thanks, I guess? They brought the sheep into the room we were all sitting in, and Sylvia’s nephew gave a big speech about what an honor it was to have us there, and would we accept this sheep. If I’d had my way, I would have accepted the sheep and then set it free, but that’s not how it works. Fikiswa (the Hlom. secretary and lovely girl) told me they were going to slaugher it right there in front of us (a mean lie!) which totally freaked me out, but everyone misread my expression and thought I was scared of sheep. Our project manager stood to accept the gift and say thanks. She said that Andy and Themba would go outside and slaughter the sheep and that we would leave the head and feet for the household to say thank you. Andy turned green at the gills and hid inside with the women while Themba went out and did the deed.

The lucky sheep

One village health worker grabbed my hand and offered to take me out back to watch the slaughering, in order to show me that sheep are nothing to be afraid of. I declined. Once the sheep was killed and cooked, we assumed it would be passed around for everyone to enjoy, but it was only for us! We were not allowed to share it with anyone else–not even Sylvia! And what we didn’t eat we took with us when we left. Andy, Priscilla, and I donated our portions to Boniswa and the rest of the staff. Thanks but no thanks.

Fikiswa, Themba and Nokulunga eating Mr Sheep

It was a fun party! They were really bummed when we left. Apparently it was going to be an all nighter, with lots of singing and dancing and storytelling. That would have been fun, but there’s only so much fun I can take in one day — especially when there’s slaughtering involved!

Thanks for the celebration, Sylvia!

That’s right. Hlomelikusasa is being EVICTED!

Our office is prime realty, located at the top of the main road in the Public Works Department. We occupy a small 3m by 3m room adjoined to the Traffic Department’s similar sized room. Well, it looks like the Traffic Department wants our office, and an NGO helping orphans and vulnerable children seems to be expendable in the eyes of the Public Works Department.

Hlomelikusasa office (the door on the right -- not the whole box)

Our ASAP boss was in town when we got the eviction notice, and she’s trying to make waves — what right does the Traffic Department have to demand OUR space? Of course, when confronted everyone in Traffic denies it. “Who, us? Kick you out of your office? Why, we’d never do something like that!” But they would, and they have. A dozen phone calls were made, and as usual nobody wants to take responsibility. Priscilla even drove an hour away to the head office in Kokstad this AM to meet with the movers and shakers, but apparently it’s a done deal. Traffic wants the office, and so Traffic gets it.

Public Works Department, (our office in the backround) is one of the most secure & guarded areas in town

Scilla & Boniswa were able to negotiate that 30 days is unreasonable. If Public Works can’t provide an alternate office, we can’t be completely left in the lurch. The big problem is that there is no free space in town. All the land is “spoken for” which is an odd concept alltogether. People don’t pay for land here, they simply take their case to the Chief or Head Man, tell him what land they want, and he decides whether or not they can have it. Sucks for Hlomelikusasa, because ALL the land in town is either in use or spoken for.

Andy & Gcina hard at work in our measly office.

Fikiswa & Simthembile doing officey things.

There’s a possibility of renting an office in the renovated section of the Makaula Hotel (The Makaulas are Mount Frere royalty), but we’re still waiting on that. We are planning to build new offices, but finding land that is close enough to town for all our Village Health Workers and orphans to get to is posing a difficult problem. We get a LOT of walk-ins here — people reporting cases of abuse, neglect, or death in their area — and if our office is too far out of town, those cases may never be reported.

Mama Ngule, our project manager at Hlomelikusasa

It makes you want to SCREAM!!!!! Wish us luck, and if anyone has any weight in the Mount Frere area, see if you can get us a nice piece of land in town, eh?

Update:

Talking with Public Works has just made it more clear that Traffic are indeed the ones trying to push us out. We’ve gained a month or too of time to find a new office and we’re going to ratchet up the political pressure next week. In the meantime, the office at Makaula Hotel turned out to be a shoebox for R2000/mo (OK, it’s only $200, but that’s significantly more than our flat, for example and we can’t afford it.)

Livin' in a cardboard box

Mrs Nomatchaka stopped by the office on Friday, having spent most of the day in Mthatha picking up some chicklets. She raises them and sells them, and this time had bought 100 white ones and 100 red ones to share with a friend.

Cut to the chase: baby chickens are cute in large enough numbers.

Two hundred chickens

The red ones are apparently just raised for meat whilst the white ones can be laying hens. Because they were splitting them between two people, there was a little sorting to be done (on the porch outside our office, naturally).

Sorting chickens for fun and profit

For those of you thinking of starting your own chicken-rearing operation in the Eastern Cape, here’s some quick facts:

• 100 chickens cost R280 (about $28)
• You can sell a fully grown chicken for R40-R50
• Around 95% of the birds will make it to adulthood, barring massive infection which can wipe you out.
• They take about six weeks to rear if you give them enough food, longer if you just let them scratch for their own food.
• Full grown chickens are pretty ugly and smell bad.
• Cats can be friends with chickens.