Exploitation of the poor by Christian Pastors

One of the worst types of exploitation that I have witnessed in Southern Africa is the ruthless exploitation of vulnerable people by so called Pastors. What I would call the business of being a Pastor is rife across much of Sub Saharan Africa. Self professed ministers of God - often claiming to be literally guided by the voice of God - target the poor, the sick, the recently bereaved and make them promises of great blessings from God. They often convince the vulnerable, and usually uneducated, that they are suffering because they have displeased God and that by placing their faith in Him they will be blessed with countless riches. The Pastor often claims that God has told him, or occasionally her, that if the person repents and puts their faith in Jesus Christ as their 'Personal Saviour' then such blessings will follow.

To be fair some of these Pastors do bring short term comfort to the needy. They are there to comfort the bereaved when the mainline churches often fail to do so. This is largely due to the logistics that the mainline churches face of a handful of priests/vicars/ministers serving vastly populated pastoral areas. The Pastors however are usually quick of the mark when someone in their neighbourhood has been bereaved. The cynic in me can't help believing that this is because they want to comfort the bereaved before their rival Pastors do the same! You see these Pastors are everywhere and their is a sickening competetion between them. Afterall being a Pastor in Sub Saharan Africa can be a profitable little number!

The often neglected positive images of Africa

I'd hate to think that my writngs about Southern Africa would perpetuate the negative stereotypes held by many in the Northen hemisphere. For that reason I have decided that I will publish positve images and stories from Southern Africa to compliment the stories of poverty, sickness and death that I often write about or comment on.

I have fallen in love with Africa and I want to share my love with others!

Death without dignity in Zimbabawe

My friend's uncles story of his sons death was touching. As we sat around the fire he told me of his loss and his grief.

His son, Jacob, had been at the cattle post for about a week but had made his way back to the city due to his ill health. Apparently he had been ill several months earlier but had made a seemingly full recover (it's amazing how often I heard that at funerals!) Upon reaching home he could barely walk or talk so my uncle immediately drove him to the main hospital in Bulawayo. 

Jacob was obviously seriously ill and his father genuinely believed that the hospital would be able to help him. After all this was Zimbabwe - for so long the bread basket of Southern Africa. My friend's uncle knew only of a well resourced highly efficient hospital that served Bulawayo. He was broken hearted to find the hospital in a state of disrepair and filth. With no other option he checked Jacob into the ward. Jacob was taken for examination and was returned to the ward where his father awaited. He was then informed that unfortunately there was no medicine available and that all the hospital could do was place Jacob under observation. 

My friend's uncle was obviously shocked but said he felt that at least the authorities would be able to look after his son. He then asked the nurses for blankets to cover his shaking and desperately ill son. He was told that there were no blankets available and that patients had to supply their own blankets. He immediately drove home to get blankets but could not fathom how it could be that a hospital could not provide a desperately sick man with something to cover himself. When he arrived back he did his best to keep his son warm until in the early hours of the next morning Jacob passed away.

Boipelo's Story - continued

After a few months of visiting the salon, I noticed that Boipelo was increasingly having time of work. The word was that she had a flu and was resting. Now although Botswana has one of the highest rates of HIV infection in the world and although the highest risk group for infection are young people between the ages of 14 and 35 I only had a slight concern for Boipelo. After all the is a great danger in concluding that anyone who falls sick in any way in Botswana is HIV positive and of course like anywhere else in the world people catch the flu and are bedridden with curable ailments.  Boipelo lived in a servant’s quarters which was accessible by making one’s way around the back of the main property on the plot. Servant’s quarters are very common across Botswana and Southern Africa. Most large houses will include at least one small building for the purpose of housing a maid. It is commonplace across the region to find people on modest income employing a maid. The maid will carry out all the household chores and quite often doubles up as a nanny. It’s not just families who employ maids. Many single mothers – and there are many – employ maids particularly to look after children and thus enable them to work themselves. On average in 2002 one would estimate that a maid in Botswana would have been paid between BWP300 and BWP350 a month. This would probably work out as about a third of the income earned by a woman working in a service industry such as hairdressing, shop work or a restaurant. 

In Francistown many of the maids, as well as house-boys and gardeners, were Zimbabweans, particularly from Matabeleland, who had fled from desperate poverty into Botswana. The modest sums they could earn in Botswana would at least allow them to feed their families back home. Many of these migrant workers would make trips home at the end of a month laden with Mealie Meal (the staple foodstuff), sugar, flour, salt and cooking oil – commodities that were not available in their local shops.
Boipelo was living a very small dwelling consisting of a modest bedroom, the smallest kitchen and bathroom imaginable. Boipelo stayed in the most modest of places because she wanted to save the bulk of her wages in order to support her family who lived in a small village about 100KM’s south of Francistown. 

Boipelo's sister was caring for her during her time of sickness. Boipelo was weak and certainly looked frail but was still full of hope. She talked about returning to work and about how bored she was stuck in the house all day. The second time I visited I found her alone but she reassured me that she was okay and was being well looked after by family members and friends. She was rather weak but still optimistic. As the weeks passed by Boipelo began to regain her strength and it wasn’t that long before she was back at work.