In for a baby, in for a social grant

Early this year news reports cited “research” showing South African teens are deliberately falling pregnant in order to access social grants.

What utter bollocks.

I am not an advocate of teenage pregnancy; in fact I am vehemently against it as it interrupts a child’s life and interferes with her chances of a successful future. In rural areas (where the news reports claime there were 123 teen pregnant in one town in 2010 and 53 in Nkandla) children are faced with more challenges than those of children in urban areas. I’ll venture insofar as to say that if there are indeed children deliberately falling pregnant to access the social grant, it would likely be teens in urban areas more than those in rural areas.

The first challenge a rural teen faces is the traditional taboo attitude towards dating and socialising with boys that is common in rural areas. Parents zealously (sometimes enforcing their rules with a cane, a belt or sjambok) oppose their teenagers having boyfriends. These children are then forced to hide that they are dating because NOT dating is not an option. They’re teenagers for crying out loud!

Because of this skulking and hiding the teen is then alone in her relationship, often at the mercy of the advice of her friends and feels alienated from her parents who become Enemy No 1, it’s psychology 101, "a no-brainer" as the kids would say.

The second challenge these teens face is that while they are fully aware of contraceptives and condoms, they often do not use both. Kids I have spoken to would like to use contraceptives but the nurses in the clinics refuse them the service even though many of them go when they are 15 or 16 years old. The problem these teens face is that the nurses, instead of doing their jobs, are being proxy parents and deciding that if they give a teen contraception it is as good as cheering them on to have sex. A child who has decided to have sex will have sex, no matter the fear-mongering or beatings. And so they go without contraceptives.

As for condoms, the teens, raised in predominantly patriarchal households where their father’s word is law, even if the father is working in the city and is not home, are susceptible to their boyfriends’ will. The mantra of many black men is that a “real man” doesn’t wear a condom. They protest with a litany of excuses, including:
* The condom is too small (a problem that only seem to befall black men, *snort*)
* The condom smells funny,therby making sex nuaseating (as if it wasn't already ;))
* They are allergic to the lubricant
* Only a girl who knows they have AIDS would want to use a condom
* If you love/trust me you won’t use a condom

When the girl feebly raises the issue of pregnancy, he assures her that he will “pull out” in time. She believes him and takes her chance. The ploys used by black men in order to avoid using a condom are the same ploys that adult women fall for, what are the chances that a teen will be able to resist? How come women in their 30s aren’t condemned for unsafe sexual practices? Despite the arguments to the contrary, mature unemployed, unmarried, women also fall pregnant without planning to should be subject to the same scrutiny teens are in terms of whether or not they are opportunistically falling pregnant because they would also like to milk the state coffers dry, much like the leaders who condemn them for it do.

Although state clinics ought to provide the “morning after” pill I have yet to come across one that stocks it. If clinics do stock the pills the nursing staff of Harding and its surrounds has taken it upon itself to not provide them. So much so that teens stopped asking for it.

When a teen seeks to correct her “stupidly falling pregnant” circumstance by requesting a termination of pregnancy from a state hospital as she is legally allowed to the nurses refuse her the service because of their personal beliefs. I know of a child who was closeted in a room by seven nurses, all about the age of her mother and severely berated for even thinking about an abortion. I myself have an experience in which a doctor in a public hospital refused a cousin on mine an abortion merely because she disagreed with the reasons given for wanting one.

So there is a teen in a rural area, stuck with a pregnancy and without an out, why should she not make use of the state provided social grant in order to help raise this child? Sometimes the teen is still a recipient of a social grant herself. I would like to meet a person who has raised a child on R250 a month in this day and age - only that person can convince me gettting its possible to fall pregnant merely to secure R250 for 18 years of a child's life.

Does this research conclude that the teens then use the money for their personal needs, like maybe a sexy top to seduce old men in? Because that is the implication of the allegation that teens are falling pregnant on purpose. Who then provides for this new infant? Certainly not the poor family a rural teen often comes from. The teen’s schooling is interrupted and sometimes she may never go back to school because there is no one to take care of the baby. Is this research suggesting that teens are choosing this path for themselves? Is this research saying that teens would rather earn R250 per child for the rest of their lives? Is that the best that this country has created for children to aspire to?

Hello 2011 - Letting go

As I type this I am thinking of the long road I have travelled in order to come into my own skin and live in it in perfect harmony with my flaws and my triumphs.

Today I relinquish my story.

Everyone has a painful story, a story they have developed over time, a story that defines them and a story often holds them hostage.

I, too, have my story; a story of loss, of being symbolically castrated by my vices and blinded by my shortcomings. It is a story that has excused my mistakes and forgiven me my wrongs. It’s a story I relished telling because it is a story that blamed others for my pain and left me free to bask in their pity and sympathy of those who heard it.

But my story was my bondage, forever pinning me down and holding me back. What if I left the warm cocoon of self pity and self indulgence, ventured out into a world of risking my strength and testing my feet? If I fell and didn’t have my story to cushion my blow, would I be OK? When I am asked to account for mistakes I make in the clear light of day and find myself bare of excuses and without cover would I stand firm and would I humbly submit to learning form my mistakes?

When I examine myself and allowed the mirror of truth to speak to me without the muffling of my story would I listen? Would my personal yardstick be longer than that which I hold against those I judge so harshly and so freely? Would I allow myself to stand firm in my beliefs and the pursuit of my destiny?

My story has walked with me, weighing upon my step, making my mark upon whatever I stepped on indelible and destructive. My story has held me back, jealous of the power of my triumph over it’s emotions. My story has not helped me. It has not changed anyone else’s life, it has been fear-mongering and often alienating of others. My story has been a wall between me and my future, a cloud above the present, forever casting a shadow of gloom on the achievements of today.

I don’t start anew, I simple start with a lighter load. A chapter, of hope and dreams.

PS: Forgive any typos

A woman wept

On hills of misery,
The salty rivers flow.
Glistening dunes don't stem the flow.
On wobbly tips,
Rests a pool of of pity,
A woman wept.

A guttural moan,
No man has known,
Of wounded animals,
Memories her cries invoke.
A cloud so low, a fearful cower,
A woman wept.

No ash, no phoenix.
Fairytales forgotten, hope abandoned
No glass slipper,
No prince to kiss her awake
She wept.

In hopes, in dreams,
This hurt would end.
But in life so real,
Her will depleted,
She fell,
And slept.

Welcome back everyone. :-) And by that I mean me.

Break's over

This blog will resume activity after the holiday hiatus.

Looking forward to getting back into the mix.

Day of Reconciliation

This is a post by Relax Max. Thank you for letting me use it.

December 16 is a public holiday in South Africa.

The Day of Reconciliation holiday came about in 1994 following the end of apartheid, and is intended to foster a spirt of reconciliation and national unity.

However, the date chosen comes from a much earlier event.

On December 16, in 1838, was fought the Battle of Blood River. On the bank of the Ncome River on that date, king Dingane, with an army of close to 15,000 men, attacked 470 Voortrekkers. The Voortrekkers, under the command of Andries Pretorius, of course had provoked the attack, though they hadn't counted on quite that large of an opposing army.

The Zulus attacked the Voortrekkers in waves, with only spears for weapons. The Dutch soldiers had muskets and cannon. By the end of the day, the river by the hippo pool had actually changed color.

In the ignoble (some say) carnage on that killing field, over 3000 Zulu warriors were slaughtered. The Trekkers had 3 slightly wounded, including Pretorius himself.

The Zulus lived to fight another day, and with much greater success.

Read more about the Battle of Blood River, its causes and its aftermath here.