Mr Tutu's Story

Henry came into Wola Nani some time in 1997. There was a language problem, but we found a way to talk – Swahili, English, Swazi – and somehow managed to find out his story. He was born in the Eastern Cape but because of the untenable regime, his parents went into exile and made a home in Uganda, where Henry grew up, only to have his family killed in the terror that reigned under the rule of Idi Amin. Henry managed to escape. Having buried his family, he fled to Rwanda where he married and started his own family. He became a businessman and carved out a life for himself, but civil war saw his family devastated again and Henry found himself in the care of UN volunteers. They heard his story and repatriated him to his country of birth. He landed in Johannesburg yet it could have been anywhere - it certainly didn’t feel like home to him.

He decided to try and find his people – but was treated with much mistrust and he left the Eastern Cape for the second time and made his way to Cape Town. This is where he found out he was HIV+ and when he met us.

Henry was not looking for charity, he just need something – someone – to support him as he used his business acumen and drew up a business plan for his carefully considered shoe shine business. Wola Nani were able to give him counselling and seed his shoe shine stand and Henry began to settle. He took great care of himself and certainly Capetonians had shiny shoes, but as is often the case, rejection is a great disheartener and Henry moved many times as some problem would arise about him “not really belonging”. He couldn’t speak the language (none of the 11 spoken here anyway) and, although business was picking up – with him having a permanent place at the V & Waterfront, home was not that great and after a while he ended up living in “Cardboard City” (the euphemism for the shack town many of us ignore as we leave the city heading toward Seapoint). One night a shack caught alight and the fire spread to many others before it could be quelled. No-one has seen Henry since … the police are unable to confirm his death, but he’s not been back – his ID book and other papers still lie in a drawer – no-one wants to close the file.

I’m sure Henry’s story is not unique. I’m sure it’s the story of many – but who will remember Henry, if we don’t … and all the others?

At Wola Nani – we don’t forget – we won’t forget – we remember you, Henry Tutu and we feel richer for having known you.

Written by Pat Francis, Programme Director