OPINION: Sorry, little one … this is apparently not a crime in South Africa

Her playground is a broken pavement, her toys broken bricks, bottle tops and other rubbish; if she’s lucky, a straggly doll that looks worse than she does.

All day, seven days a week, rain or shine. Who knows from what time in the morning she arrives at their spot with a woman (I hesitate to say mother because, firstly, it may very well not be her mother and, secondly, if it is she’s a child abuser not a mother).

Here, at the spot overlooking a water park where she’s no doubt seen hundreds of children excitedly climbing the supertube, ready to hold their breath for the exhilarating ride ahead, she inhales exhaust fumes all day and goes to the toilet in the grass on the highway embankment.

Her ‘mom’ sits and sits and sits, too downtrodden (or lazy) to get up, the occasional wave to motorists she’s trying to get something out of but mostly on her phone under her jersey where she thinks nobody can see it.

There’s zero engagement with the kid, who, thankfully, retreats into her own make-believe world on this filthy pavement in Boksburg on one of the busiest roads in the city’s busiest shopping district.

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I wonder what games she plays in her head. She’s an alert and busy little person; I could just see her eyes lighting up if she had the chance to step into a classroom.

Instead, the trash and scraps lying around her are her classroom; she her own teacher, and, some days, her eyes well with agony when ‘mother’ gets hold of her hair to brush it into submission for whatever reason.

She’s usually dressed OK and often has bright hair beads or new braids, so there’s some level of care somewhere between the pavement and wherever home is.

Other days she’s fast asleep, her head a tyre’s breadth away from being crushed, her tiny, skinny body on the hard pavement in dream world.

One afternoon – peak hour – ‘mother’ was fast asleep and little one just sat there waiting for her to wake up.

She could have been taken by a stranger, needed to wee, been hungry, scared, cold, sleepy … but that’s OK ‘mother’ you sleep; I’m used to taking care of myself.

Why are we allowing this?

If little one was a dog would we take more notice? Would we report it? Would we make a scene? Would we feel desperate enough to demand the authorities take action?

If little one and all the other little ones on the pavements with ‘mothers’ were animals, would we still turn a blind eye?

Sadly, I don’t think so. I think it would make national news. I think people will lose their minds and remove the animals from their ‘owners’.

Sorry, little one. For some or other reason small children and babies made to sit in the beating sun, pouring rain, gusting wind all day, made to risk their lives between hundreds of cars and trucks everyday, made to degrade themselves by going to the toilet in public, breathing in poison and living on whatever they’re lucky to get, all while under the watchful eye of ‘mothers’, is apparently not a crime in South Africa.

Sorry, you are truly on your own. Nobody is coming to save you from this life. Your ‘mother’ wouldn’t want them to either because then she loses her emotional pull with motorists.

I wish I could scoop you up, clean you up, put you in a bright red dress and shiny shoes and take you to school.

Little one, one day. Keep imagining yourself out of this life. Tell those rocks and sticks and stones you play with all about your new life surrounded by toys and books and love and hugs – and trips to the water park.

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