Nombeka's Story: "You Won't Die at Home"

Nombeka grew up and had a family in a village called Ntabelanga in the Eastern Cape in South Africa. Look for Queenstown on the map, not far from East London, and you’re in the right area. Nelson Mandela comes from this part of South Africa. It is one of the poorest regions in the country. During the dark days of Apartheid parts of this area – the Transkei for example – were granted “independent homeland” status. In reality the Apartheid Government was relieving itself of responsibilities to support the Black population living in poverty. Many people had to move away to find work; about 15 years ago Nombeka left her two sons in the village and found work in Cape Town.

Nombeka has always spoken of the close ties she feels with people back home in the village, and not only with close family members. The villagers support each other in many ways, in stark contrast to urban life in Cape Town.

A few weeks ago on a Friday Nombeka received a call out of the blue from a woman from the village. They did not know each other so well, but she had managed to get Nombeka’s mobile phone number from others in the village. She was desperate for Nombeka’s help.

Her 22 year old daughter Rose was critically unwell and alone in Cape Town she said. Rose’s ex-boyfriend had called her Mum to say that she was now unable to walk. Rose’s Mum was hoping that someone from the village of Ntabelanga would check on Rose – Nombeka was her only contact. Rose’s three sisters had all died from HIV, and now she was the only surviving child. If Rose was dying, she desperately wanted her to come home to die.

Nombeka immediately went to search for Rose, but it was Saturday morning before she finally found the house where she was staying. Nombeka was told that Rose had been rushed to Groote Schuur Hospital.

Nombeka managed to find Rose at the hospital, and she told me that she was shocked by Rose’s condition. Rose could hardly talk but was able to tell Nombeka how she had ended up there. She had left Ntabelanga to find work and money in Cape Town. She fell pregnant. Tragically her baby died shortly after the birth. The father of the baby said he did not have enough money to pay for the baby’s body to be transported back home to Ntabelanga for burial, which added a further burden to Rose’s emotional state. Her health declined, and she became more and more housebound. Homecare HIV nurses started visiting, bringing Rose her antiretroviral medicines. At this time there was a strike by Government workers, including the Homecare nurses. Rose’s supply of ARVs had run out, and so she became even more unwell. She wasn’t able to walk or wash herself, and finally was rushed to hospital.

Rose told Nombeka she was scared that she was about to die. Nombeka said to her “You won’t die alone at home”.

Rose was desperate for Nombeka to take her back to Ntabelanga to die in the village, however the doctors were not happy for her to travel such a long distance. The journey from Cape Town takes 10 hours on a bus, generally travelling overnight. The doctor explained that Rose had a Hickman line inserted for administering medicines, that she was incontinent, her breathing was unstable and fluctuating, she had been vomiting, and she could not walk or support her own weight. “How can you take her on such a long bus journey?” the Doctor asked. But they were both insistent.

Nombeka went to visit Rose’s ex-boyfriend to ask for some financial help. He said he could give some money towards the fare. He said he certainly could not afford to pay for her body to be sent home if she died. The bus fare was R500 (£40); to send a body home would cost twenty times that amount. Nombeka had just enough money to pay for two fares on the bus, and went back to the hospital.

The doctor administered something via the Hickman to make Rose more comfortable for the journey. The nurses gave Nombeka some incontinence pads. Nombeka had bought some glucose drinks, bananas and a coke. The hospital staff helped carry Rose into a taxi which took them both to the bus stand. Unfortunately the bus to the Eastern Cape was full. There was an alternative bus company, so the taxi took them over to the “50 Cent” bus stand, and that bus was full too. Nombeka explained to the driver that she was helping Rose to travel home to die, and that they hadn’t been able to get on the other bus. Nombeka told me that the driver took one look at Rose, enlisted the help of a security guard, and between the two of them they carried her onto the bus. Nombeka hadn’t stopped to think how she would manage to get Rose onto the bus – she suffers from terrible arthritis. The driver asked passengers to move up – a bench on this bus is designed to sit three people squashed together. Initially the passengers began to kick up a fuss, but when they saw Rose and realised the situation they moved and freed up a whole bench. Nombeka propped Rose up for the 10 hour journey. She rang Rose’s Mum to let her know they were on the way.

During the journey the most amazing things happened. Other passengers on the bus brought pillows and blankets – it was a freezing cold evening. People offered food and drink. The conductor came to check everything was ok every half hour or so. Nombeka kept vigil, making sure that Rose was still breathing when she was quiet in between periods of being delirious. The driver was happy to make two sudden stops when Rose was sick.

Nombeka told me that there was so much love and support from everyone on the bus during the long journey. She said there was no judging, no craning of necks, no staring. I guess almost all of the other passengers had experienced a similar crisis and wanted to do what they could.

Nombeka’s cellphone stopped working during the journey, and no one else seemed to have network coverage. In Ntabelanga, the family were waiting for news, and feared that Rose had died on the bus. Nombeka was panicking about money. If Rose died before the half-way point in the journey, she didn’t have enough money for Rose’s body to be carried to Ntabelanga. However if she died between the half-way point and the village it would be ok. As the bus drove past the half-way point she told me she felt so much relief, and said a prayer of thanks.

Finally she was able to get a call through to the Rose’s Mum, and the next morning they pulled into Ntabelanga. The whole village was waiting at the bus stand, and helped both Rose and Nombeka off the bus. Nombeka’s son Boiboi was waiting with the other villagers. He cried and told her that he was so proud of her. Rose was helped to her family home. The villagers had filled the fridge with food, and continued to do so over the next few days.

Nombeka was exhausted and collapsed into a chair at home. Villagers popped by and started talking about her Mum, and it was only then that she realised that she had been so focussed on getting Rose home that she had forgotten that it was the first anniversary of her Mother’s death. Nombeka told me that her Mum had been a pillar of the community. Everyone called her “Stork” (after the margarine!). So Nombeka was known as “Stork’s girl” in the village. She felt that her Mum had somehow been with her on the bus journey and had guided them home.

Nombeka had to return to Cape Town for work, but she kept in touch for news about Rose. Miraculously, Rose began to recover. She was eating healthy food, receiving love and care from the whole village, and felt hope for the first time in years. The other day Rose rang Nombeka and said that she was feeling much better. She said she hopes to have enough strength soon to open a small hair salon in Ntabelanga.