Wil Groot, 12 September 2008
South Africa Cape Town

De Ciskes . . Streetkids

De Ciskes. . . . streetkids

Little rats they are, street kids, not wanted at home and either born at the wrong moment or in the wrong place, like next to a rubbish dump in a township, because that’s what his mother always said. He never knew his father. This story is the contents of just one backpack of a street kid…


Andy, who left the club house while I stepped out of the car, said “Hey Wil, where have you been for such a long time”. “Hey Andy”, I said, how are you doing, you look great my friend”, and the usual ritual of shaking hands started, resembling a Moroccan version of hand shaking: letting your hand or fist rest on your heart after the handshake.


“I was in Transkei my friend, visiting the orphans and doing research on the situation there. “How are you, have you been a good boy”? As usual he put his hands in his pockets and pretended to be some macho, as if he was James Dean himself. I dared him and threw him over my shoulder, something all these boys want and need, a bit of playing around. Andy is nine years old.

Together we walked to the field where the others were playing soccer, under supervision of Jakes. “They are all like young Pelé’s,” I said to Jakes, who smiled and welcomed me. I had a closer look at the boys who came up to me one by one and shook hands. They showed respect, looked me in the eye for one second and then immediately back at the ball because they were part of a team which means that you have a responsibility. I noticed a bigger guy in between, who I didn’t know. “Who is the big guy” I asked Jakes. “That’s Damien, he was just released from prison and has been a street kid since he was 8 years old. He is a nice fellow, having his heart at the right place, but who always meets the wrong guys. There’s a great chance he’ll be in jail for five years or more when he reaches the age of eighteen. Then, the police will go through his past and count all his assaults and for that reason they’ll put him to jail, that’s the system here”.

“If a young man has committed several assaults over and over again, he will be summoned to trial and quite often the sentence comes half a year later, if not postponed for another six months, for the reason of child protection. At the age of 18 it is not covered by that rule anymore and subsequently it’s ‘paying time’ of his criminal past. Often they are locked up for a longer period of time. In the past there were large shelters for these street kids, a place where they were brought up and were educated. After the apartheid regime they were abolished and look what the result was…!


The next day I met Debbie, a white South African teacher, who lived in London for a long time and now she’s is back and works as a volunteer teaching the boys math and writing. When I arrive she is busy cooking. I look at the boys who are busy doing their homework. “Sir, can you please help me with multiplying”, Damien asks. The big boy looks at me with his big brown eyes and with a big smile. “I ask Andy, who is sitting next to Damien to give me some space to sit and without stopping drawing he stands up and sits down on my right knee as if it is totally normal, while I focus myself on Damien exercise. “How much is 5x7”, I ask him. For a moment there is silence. I realize that Andy keeps an eye on us. Damien looks at me, and I see that he is trying to work it out, but can’t. Insecurity is clear. I give him a pet on his shoulder and I start multiplying the five-times table. After 4x5 he starts to understand it, and he takes over, because 20 + 5 = 25 and 25 + 5 =30 and after 30 comes 35. Andy wants to do it as well. “Why 5 x 7”, he asks me. “Well, there are 7 of you guys here and everything I teach you, you will pay me 5 times back”, I answer with a big smile on my face. “We don’t have any money”, he says immediately. “Well my friend, (I put my arm around his shoulder), later, when you know how to count, you’ll start your own business and you’ll have your own shop”, I said with a smile. He smiles back and I continue multiplying the one time table. A few minutes later 5 of the guys are busy multiplying the one-time table till the ten-times table.


Debbie looks smiling around the corner and tells that the Montessori school works with a different system. Yes, I’m still from the old school’, but no worries, I will use the ruler only when it’s needed”. Jake reacts from the kitchen; “sometimes ‘spanking, a smash with the hand on the butt, is needed when they really do something wrong, if not they never learn. They miss a strong hand as well, that keeps them in line. It worked for us and gave us the right foundation.” “But dinner is ready boys, so clean up and make me some space”. In a few minutes everything is ready and the spaghetti is served. Everybody waits until the last one sits down. Then first a prayer to thank the Lord for what has been given. Some of the boys take half their food with them, to eat it later or to give it to others who are not present.


A few days later, a rainy day, Debbie asks me if I want to visit the library with the boys. At the library they can spend half an hour at the computer and they can select two magazines and two books to take to the daycare center. Today there are 6 boys, so I decide to make two groups. A few boys didn’t show up, what happens sometimes. Although the boys are not obliged to show up, Jakes always put a bit of pressure on them and tells them what the consequences of a criminal record are. He demands them to be present at 9.00am at the daycare centre or otherwise they do not have to come again at all. These measures make them to be on time.
With 3 boys I arrive at the library where we find that the computers are out of order. So we take a look at the books and magazines. The boys want to have them in the African language, “they have a better understanding of that” ‘Carl says’. They chose sports magazines, like Men’s Health, and freaked out at the surf pictures. That really was their favorite sport. Quickly I realized that none of the boys could read. So we had to look for text books to learn the alphabet in the African language. The second group was the same, just looking at the pictures. Charina, a former colleague student from my last study, who happened to be here for her study, gave her attention to one boy and went through the books he had chosen. Personal assistance is the best way for these boys, the only way.


Andy wanted to know the location of The Netherlands, so I looked for a world map. It could be unfolded and they were all flabbergasted. A little later Carl showed up with a book about the human body. “Does our body really look like that”, he asked me. “Yes my friend, look, that’s your heart, and these are your nerves and when you have an unhealthy way of living, your lungs get bigger and they push against your nerves. This hurts and you’ll become sick, so if you don’t smoke my friend, you won’t get sick!”
“And what is that, and what is that. . . . Yes, so many questions and such little time. We went back to the daycare centre, where Debbie had made lunch. After lunch we dropped the boys in town, it rained.

On the way back to Cape Town we were both struggling with our thoughts. Sometimes we can’t express feelings in words and then you just have to accept them. The street kids, ‘Ciskes’ different individuals with there own story and their own past, quite often without love, warmth or a safe nest and all of them with their own backpack full of ‘life baggage’.
The conclusion is that there is still a lot to do. The tools are easy, just love, warmth and a safe haven.