Cindy Laubscher shares her story about life in a township

We soon realised that this is a story to share with our readers and asked Cindy to tell it in her own words.

My name is Cindy. I am a 43-year-old mother of three girls and one boy. My eldest three children’s father, whom I was married to for 14 years, passed away.

I resigned from my job as an admin manager (I was with the same company for 10 years since moving from Cape Town to Johannesburg) in February 2017 as I had taken another offer. We had to move after I resigned as family staff accommodation had been part of my salary package.

I was (and am) engaged and at that time my fiancée had left his job as the salary he was earning compared to the amount of petrol we were spending was almost equal and I was earning enough to sustain us until he found something closer to home.

We had just moved into an apartment in the South of Johannesburg and I had a month gap between jobs when we received a huge shock. I was pregnant.

I had been very sick during December 2016 and January 2017 with respiratory tract infection and my usual antibiotics were not working so the doctor put me on medication I had never been on before. After some investigation on my part, after discovering my pregnancy, it turns out the medication I was on could affect your birth control, something my doctor had not shared with me. I had never had issues with my usual antibiotics so it hadn’t been something I had even given any thought to.

No job, no income

My new job was off the cards after I informed them of my pregnancy and even though I tried to get temporary work while pregnant, I wasn’t successful.

My fiancée put in great effort to find a job as soon as possible, but luck wasn’t on our side. My previous job didn’t have a pension plan and all I had was a life insurance policy for my children in case of my death.

Within two months I had to sell my car and four months later there was no rent money. We moved to a commune type accommodation place for three months at R1500 per month but even with the drop in rent and odd jobs my fiancée managed to get, we just couldn’t manage.

My eldest children had to move to my in-laws for many months while we were able to live with my fiancée’s grandparents. They loved to help but their lease didn’t allow for so many extra people on the property.

As it was we weren’t able to stay for too long before the landlord complained and my youngest daughter was born while we were living at a home for the homeless just outside Vanderbijlpark.

Making the move

Even though we applied and walked from business to business for jobs, we did not succeed. I have an excellent CV and contactable references back to my very first job, yet I wasn’t even afforded an interview for any job I applied for.

We had no choice but to move to Thinasonke in late 2018. My middle daughter remained with the family but my eldest daughter and son insisted they had to be with me, so along with their baby sister, we moved into a room, which later became a zozo because of finances.

Things became really bad. Between trying to find a job and making sure there was food on the table, there never seemed enough hours in the day.

A time came where I had to stick my pride in my pocket and I resorted to knocking on people’s doors in Brackendowns and Brackenhurst to beg for any food they could spare.

There are so many families who helped us monthly with some groceries and a few Rand. I cannot begin to express my gratitude to them as they opened their hearts to us in our darkest hours and I pray God blesses them abundantly for their selflessness.

Not in my shoes

We were also many times met with animosity, which in this day and age is understandable when you look at the number of scammers and chance takers out there. Some people used to say to me, why are you begging? Are you too lazy to work? If only they knew how I prayed and looked for a job continuously and how begging took away every last bit of self-confidence I had left.

Many people thought I was on drugs or an alcoholic because walking in the sun every single day trying to survive takes its toll on you. Your face is almost always red. Your skin becomes almost haggard because of the beating it takes.

If only those people knew how very much their comments had hurt because I am not a drug addict and I hadn’t touched a drop of alcohol since I found out I was expecting my youngest daughter. Even before that, I had only been an occasional drinker.

People who have never been in a position such as this don’t understand the daily challenges one faces and how time becomes your enemy.

You have to find a job, but you have to feed your children. You so desperately want to spend time with your children, but you have to try and cook the best you can on a one-plate spiral that shocks you every time you touch it.

Washing became a nightmare as you try to wash two adults and three children’s laundry by hand that sometimes heaps up for over a week because you only have enough sunlight bar soap left to make sure your children have clean clothes for school.

On top of that, your relationship takes heart-wrenching strain as you have zero privacy. Most of the days you are so exhausted that after the kids are asleep you can hardly tell each other I love you before falling onto the floor, which has been your bed for two years, to also sleep.

Breaking up a family

We tried and tried our very best to keep going, but eventually, we had to accept that we were getting nowhere. We looked worse for wear and because of the daily beating we put our bodies through and our clothes that were raggedy, it was near impossible for me to even try and look decent as I walked from company to company asking for a job.

In January 2021 my fiancée and our youngest daughter departed to George to his mom and sister who has given them a home to live in with them and my little girl is attending nursery school, which she is thoroughly enjoying.
It was probably the hardest decision we had to make. Splitting up was never an opinion for us because of our love and devotion to each other and our children.

But, it is essentially because of our love for our children, that we had to put our feelings aside for the time being and do what’s best for them. He has started working already but because he doesn’t have a complete high school education, his wages are small but we are grateful nonetheless.

I am now with my father-in-law and sister-in-law in Turffontein, with my eldest daughter and son, my middle daughter remains with my deceased husband’s cousin and his wife who have accepted her as their own child and she is very happy with them.

I go onto the job sites religiously twice a day and apply for any jobs that I qualify for but it seems the fact that I have been unemployed for so long poses a problem.

There are good days

Self-analysis and research show me that I most probably suffer from PTSD, anxiety and depression. I don’t have the money to see a psychologist and I am too anxious to go anywhere near a government hospital. The local clinic has a waiting period of months to see a psychologist.

Some days are good, I get through quite comfortably in terms of interacting with other people and doing my daily household chores.

Other days are not so good. There are days I cannot even face my children because of the crippling guilt of not being able to provide for them myself and there are days I can’t even get myself out of bed. There are days I can’t stop crying no matter how hard I try. And even this is something some people don’t understand.

Let me tell you if it was that easy to get up, pull oneself together and to remember who you are I’d be out there conquering the world. I’ve lost every last shred of self-confidence to the point that I can’t even look at myself in the mirror because I can’t stand seeing myself like this. I try every day to find myself, I try so hard yet every night when I crawl into bed I am still lost.

Want to feel worthy

And the thing is, I want to get better. I want to be able to genuinely laugh again. I want to be able to have fun with my children again. I want to work again, I want to feel like I’m doing a good job again and I want to be able to provide for my children. I want to get better for myself, for them, and for my fiancée. I want to be proud of who I am again and I want my children to be able to look up to me.

I believe that God put me on this path for a reason. I believe I have walked this path to enable me to help others, to be in a position where I can humanely help others because I have walked the same road they are walking.
My dream for over a year now has been to work for a company or NPO whose goals are to identify and help the people who are needy and have nowhere to turn to.

From experience, I can tell you, even though there are many NPOs that help the needy, it is extremely difficult, sometimes impossible to get through all the red tape so that you can get assistance. And that’s where I dream of making a difference, to the people who are struggling to find that help when they desperately need it.

Your choice

I want to also say something to everyone single person reading this article: do not judge. You have no idea why a needy person is in that position, you have no idea how much courage it has taken them to ask for your help.

I’m not saying everyone should just give, but please if you don’t want to give, don’t be demeaning about it. Don’t make that needy person feel any lower than what he/she already feels.

Saying no to help another is your right, but saying no in a respectful manner is your choice and I truly hope after reading this article, that you will treat the needy with as much respect as you would anyone else.