Opinion: Where is our humanity now? Shameful behaviour on both sides of the picket line

Written by Justice Malala

Not many people know of Public Service and Administration Minister Richard Baloyi. He has, however, earned himself a place in ignominy for reacting angrily to charges by trade unions that ministers spend money without a care for the poor when they buy huge luxury cars and stay in expensive hotels.

Baloyi's response was: "Do they want ministers to ride on scooters when they do their work - or drive 1400 bakkies? It's unfortunate to link these two, as if we're seeing ministers riding in these vehicles for the first time. Even during apartheid ministers were using vehicles such as Mercs ... it is a tool of our trade."

Baloyi's response is thoughtless and insensitive. It ranks up there with former ANC leader Smuts Ngonyama's utterance when confronted about the looting that was the Telkom deal: "I didn't struggle to be poor."

Baloyi's comment will, of course, lead to a hardening of attitudes against the government's refusal to give public servants an 8.6% increase (plus a R1000 housing subsidy). Many will point out that, with attitudes such as the minister's, it is no wonder that public servants have vowed not to return to work until their demands are met.

It's not so simple. What has happened during this strike chills the blood and makes me wonder what has happened to us, to our humanity?

Stories that break the heart have been trickling into newsrooms. At hospitals, children have died from neglect. School pupils have been assaulted by striking teachers. Across the country, hospitals have become a battleground where the sick are begging for help. At the gates stand nurses and health workers who are telling patients to go home and die.

I do not think there are many South Africans today who do not have sympathy with the striking teachers and health workers. Over the past two years, we have all heard about doctors who study for years and yet earn a pittance. There have been enough stories of nurses and teachers whose salaries are so low that one is embarrassed that this is how we reward those to whom we entrust our children.

Of all the workers in this country, there are probably none whose demands have received as much support as teachers and health workers. Their needs are real and their demands legitimate.

But their actions during the past week have trampled on the sympathy of the nation. There is absolutely no reason why a doctor should be forced to abandon an anaesthetised patient because health workers are striking. There is absolutely no reason why a pupil in Boksburg should be beaten black and blue by teachers because she wants to use school facilities to study.

The health minister, Aaron Motsoaledi, made a point yesterday and it bears repeating here: Just a month ago, South Africa was lauded as a fantastic country after hosting a successful World Cup. This country's motif in hosting the games was that we and our guests, and celebrants across the globe, were celebrating "Africa's humanity".

Where was this humanity when infants died and patients needing chronic medication were turned away from hospitals? Where was this humanity when pupils at a school in KwaZulu-Natal were beaten by teachers with sjamboks and knobkieries - because they were studying?

President Jacob Zuma pointed out the shamefulness of it all on Saturday, saying: "Even during the dark days of [the] liberation [struggle], this never happened. When people were striking, they would still allow a nurse or a doctor to go inside the hospital. They knew how critical it was to save lives and you should bear this in mind . this will taint our history and legacy."

So, what happened to the celebration of our humanity? Where is that word we like to use - ubuntu/botho (humanity) - when doctors are manhandled, stopped from helping a woman about to give birth? The truth is that our sense of ubuntu is at a low ebb.

The strikers have allowed themselves to lose their humanity. We South Africans have largely allowed ourselves to forget our humanity. Minister Baloyi's comment shows that we have forgotten that it is inhumane to gorge oneself while our fellow human beings are scrounging around to feed their family.

The only light that shines on the whole sorry saga are those very few South Africans who, like Motsoaledi, went to beleagured hospitals to help out. Theirs is a show of true humanity: they are our beautiful face. But there are too few, far too few, of these heroes.

(This story was provided and used with permission by Timeslive.)