“T.I.A (This is Africa)” orig. as coined by the character played by Leonardo DiCaprio in “Blood Diamond” – 1. an expression used to explain something (in Africa) where there is absolutely no logical, rational or reasonable explanation for its occurrence. 2. an expression to describe, dismiss or rationalise an occurrence which does not meet logical, rational or reasonable expectations for no apparent reason other than it happened on the African continent.
I went to the Department of Home Affairs today with a few others so they could get their visas sorted.
All the irritation, frustration and shock at the sheer incompetence and injustice of how things were conducted there came back to me from when I went to get my own visa extended just a little over a month ago.
When I went to get mine I, allowing my vocation pervade my actions, made sure to look up the law about getting visas extended.
Without getting into the detail too much I was shocked when the person at the counter at the DHA told me that I needed to fill in these other sections of the form that I knew didn’t apply to me. At first I politely told her why the section didn’t apply to me. She told me she wasn’t going to accept my form if I didn’t fill it in.
What kind of arbitrary ridiculous-ness is that!?
I resisted with a smile and told her that it wasn’t right but she would have none of it.
You might be thinking what the big deal is about filling in an extra section of the form – well when you have to travel 45km to get to the DHA and they tell you to fill in a section which not only requires extra signatures but also other information that you know other people didn’t have to fill in anyway then it is pretty annoying. Add on to that the fact that the DHA closes at 3:30pm then it makes for an inconvenience.
And I thought a government department in Sydney was lazy!
Well when I went back the other day, the person at the counter decided to change the rules again, demanding that one of the sections to be invalid for my friend’s application because the handwriting was the same for two different sections (one of which was the section which isn’t supposed to be applicable in the first place) though the different sections were signed by different people.
My friend was applying for the same visa as I was and even that didn’t happen to me! It was absurd!
One newspaper calls it the Department of Horror Affairs.
I just couldn’t believe that the counter clerks were obviously not trained in the administrative duties they were conducted. Not only that, they were a law unto themselves and making things up to impose on different people. Completely arbitrary! What is the point having laws in place if the government department themselves are not clear on following them?!
So imagine this: you’re an orphan who can’t get ID documents (and therefore access to things like schooling, government grants) because you don’t have a birth certificate. You go to Home Affairs to try to get one… what is going to happen?
Doesn’t instil much confidence does it?
“Speak up for those who cannot speak for themselves, for the rights of all who are destitute.” Proverbs 31:8
If this kind of thing can happen to me who actually has the benefit of education and professional skills to be able to recognise oppression and injustice (because that is what it is) then it places a huge responsibility on us to call injustice, oppression and other wrongs when we see them, particularly because many others are not able to.
Compassion is hard work
It is crying out with those in pain.
It is tending the wounds of the poor and caring for their lives.
It is defending the weak,
And indignantly accusing those who violate their humanity.
It is joining with the oppressed in their struggle for justice.
It is pleading for help with all possible means…
- Henri Nouwen
In Australia we have the phrase “keep the bastards honest”.
Called to be light of the world, shouldn’t Christians be doing this? To say that injustice and oppression are unacceptable and to move on it?
“The righteous care about justice for the poor, but the wicked have no such concern.” Proverbs 29:7
A few weeks ago my running shoes were stolen from outside of my room here at Hands Village.
Inconvenient, but.. This Is Africa.
Needing to replace them, I went to get a new pair of shoes. I went for what was pretty much the cheapest pair of shoes I could get which I could still go running in. R139.99 which is about $22AUD or so when I got them.
They would do, I thought, given that I’m here as a ‘missionary’ and so on. I don’t need anything fancy…
As the weeks passed and particularly as I continued to go for morning jogs, my ankles, feet and knees began to hurt. Still I thought that this was something I should just deal with because I should count myself lucky to have shoes at all. If people in the Masoyi community can deal with this kind of thing I should stand in solidarity with them and grin and bear it.
Me climbing down Mt Legogote in the said shoes last week:
A few days later I went for another jog and my knees were in such pain! The arches of my feet hurt and my knees were swollen. I couldn’t even squat properly.
I decided to go to the mall to get some new shoes.
No big deal I thought – I’m a functional shopper so it should be a simple 15 min in-and-out affair. Including parking time. I’m sure most guys can relate.
Not so.
I found a pair of runners for R600 (which is cheap for a decent running shoe!) Didn’t take me long to pick a pair out, but I suddenly had this strange feeling in my chest as though something was pulling me.
For the next two hours, I walked or should I say paced the Riverside Mall in Nelspruit absolutely torn.
How can I justify buying these nice shoes just because my joints are hurting?
How can I justify buying a pair of shoes that costs 3 months of government orphan support payments (R200/month)?
Why do I have the privilege to be able to choose to get shoes that don’t destroy my knees?
Why do I have choice? Are not all men equal?
Shouldn’t I stand in solidarity with the people in the community and just be thankful that I have shoes?
Am I making a decision out of guilt… conviction… or what??
Have I gone soft? Am I just WEAK?!
Those two hours rattled me. It was the first real taste of the re-entry culture shock I’m expecting when I get back to Sydney. I’m not sure if I can handle going back to Sydney and going through this kind of thing every time I’m functioning like ‘normal’.
So what am I to do? I think the key may lie with how I handle what has been entrusted to me, in this case, opportunity – ‘riches’. Freely all this was given to me, Freely I must give? So then the point of all this isn’t whether I actually get the shoes, but figuring out ‘why’ and ‘what for’. The focus is then not on the thing but on the story behind it all.
There were some words that I remember from before I came here, and they seem to have come up again:
As for the rich in this present age, charge them not to be haughty, nor to set their hopes on the uncertainty of riches, but on God, who richly provides us with everything to enjoy. They are to do good, to be rich in good works, to be generous and ready to share, thus storing up treasure for themselves as a good foundation for the future, so that they may take hold of that which is truly life.
First Letter of Paul to Timothy 6:17-20, ESV
I hope you can see that you’re rich.
That you are blessed so that you might bless.
And that this will allow you to take hold of that which is truly life!
PS: The offending shoes, and the new ones:
PPS: Thanks 180 for the chat on Friday night. Good to hear the year 12s still keepin’ it real
Thanks so much Heather for all your work on all these videos!
Last week a team of high-schoolers came from a church in Jo’burg on a short term mission trip. At the end of it they sang everyone this song (written by them!) which really touched many of us.
It encapsulates so much of how confronting it is to be here. I’m sitting on the same porch that they refer to in the song as I write this blog entry, and I still remember all the noise from the poker game in the dining room they were talking about.
Thanks to my room-mate-brother-from-another-mother Callan for getting the words for me. (Check out Callan’s blog here).
I was sitting in Masoyi on the porch on a hot summer’s evening
There’s a poker game going on inside but I don’t get the meaning
Been working hard all day with the sun beaming down on me
My eyes are now open and now I see
I see
They don’t have much but they have enough
I see
The way they live is pretty tough
I see
They have faith in God not stuff
I see
The day is now over but the battle rages on
As my eyes grow heavy I think of the work I’ve done
The world didn’t change today but I understand
Every little action is part of God’s great plan
I see
They don’t have much but they have enough
I see
The way they live is pretty tough
I see
They have faith in God not stuff
I see
And it makes me wonder
Who is the real me?
But as I close my eyes to pray
I see
