Uncertain future for refugee foreigners

SOME 300 displaced foreigners from Isipingo, Malagazi and Umlazi are being sheltered in a make-shift refugee camp on the sports fields in Isipingo Beach.

The only sign of normality is a group of toddlers playing ball in a clearing between the tents, their jerseys flapping in the cold wind as they hustle for the ball.

For the rest, the men stand around in the clearing, staring into the distance. Others are huddled in the darkness of the tents, fighting the cold. Teams of women sit gathered around the tiny satellite Red Cross kitchen, peeling potatoes and preparing food for the two meals that are cooked daily by the international aid organisation’s volunteers in their makeshift kitchen.

The refugee camp, ringed by a hastily arranged wire fence, is a hive of activity. Home Affairs officials sit at a table in the open air, a small crowd of people gathered around to listen to what they’re saying.

Among them are Somalis, Malawians, Congolese and Zimbabweans.

ADVISING

The Home Affairs officials are advising them of their rights to be repatriated to their country of origin. Some 74 foreigners in the camp of 300 have opted for this, deciding to take their chances in their often strife-torn homelands rather than face the continuing backlash from angry South Africans who want them gone.

Selma Mkeuo is not among them. The Congolese woman is a married mother of five children, two of whom are her brother’s. Her youngest child, aged less than a year, sported a swollen bump on the side of the forehead after being struck by a flying projectile when the family were forcibly ousted from Isipingo two weeks ago.

“They came in the middle of the night,” said Selma, her stilted English patched together to make meaning of the senseless acts of violence.
“They beat us, many people they came and started throwing things at us.
They took everything – my salon, my car it’s all gone.”

Selma, who says she has papers and is legally resident in the country, is afraid for her life and those she loves. She is adamant she doesn’t want to stay in South Africa, but knows she cannot return to her war-torn country.

“We are waiting for help from UNICEF, we want to go somewhere safe, another country. Maybe Zimbabwe. We want peace, and there’s no peace here with the locals.”

According to a councillor who is helping to co-ordinate aid in the camp, the surrounding community have accepted the refugees in their midst.

Several businesses have donated food and supplies for the refugees. Portable toilets line the camp and a wide range of city and provincial departments are co-ordinating efforts to stave off disease. Despite their efforts, many children have already contracted the flu.

Representatives of the departments of social development, disaster management, police, Home Affairs and health are among those seen driving in and out while we conduct our interview.
For Selma, the satellite police station within the boundary of the camp brings little comfort or hope of security.

“If those people come here, we will die. Nowhere is safe. We will die.”