You have been chosen

I watched on as the people of the area ran to the cars, hoping to receive the food being distributed from there. I stood with my little girl, in the heart of a gang-infested, underprivileged community of Cape Town, and could do nothing but stare. These people were flocking for food, not because it was free, but because they probably hadn’t eaten for days. My heart broke!

I got into the car that day, turned to my husband and said, “I don’t think I want to come here anymore”. My heart ached for the people of the area who, though involved in gangsterism and drugs, were looking for a way out. I remember on our first visit to the area, my husband came across an old friend who, once a druggie himself, was now selling cellotape in the area and its surroundings wanting to create an honest living for himself and had resolved that he wasn’t going to let ‘the area’ get the better of him. The next week whilst driving through the area, we came across another of his friends who, whilst in conversation, told him ‘Ek wil reg kom’ (I want to get my life in order). My husband later informed me that this friend too was a drug addict and wanted out, but didn’t have the support he needed to get out of the rut he was in. He says most of the people in this area are like that. They realise that gangsterism and drugs isn’t the solution to their problems, and, having indulging therein for far too long, they wanted out, but there was no-one there to take them by the hand and help them succeed. There are many other such cases all over the cape flats, and I believe it’s up to us to assist our brethren in whatever way we can. I’m reminded of the life of Muhammad ﷺ and how he served as a means of support for the majority of his community. The sinners would come to him, confessing their sins and he would advise them on how to repent and lead a better life. When two parties disputed, they’d go to the messenger of God ﷺ and ask him to mediate between the two of them. The poor and needy would go in search of him, hoping that, with him, their hunger would be satiated. Even the elderly in the community would go to him with their grievances and he would patiently listen to and advise them. He was what we ought to be in these trying times, a pillar of strength and support to those in need. People face many challenges in this area, but most heart-wrenching of them all is that many kids go for days without food, because their parents are unable to put bread on the table.

With our last visit, we distributed around 600 punnets of akni in less than ten minutes. This, my husband says, is normal. Children go hungry for days, and are so glad at the prospect of having food, as they know not when they’ll have their next meal. Imagine for a moment you were among the distributors, and whilst you hand over a punnet of food to an old man he tells you “Shukran so much. Just before you came my stomach was sore from hunger”. Imagine people rushing pass you to collect food saying “A person mos doesn’t get such food in this area”. Close your eyes for a moment and consider this, hundreds of children are running to the car eager to fill their bellies with the food that you are providing. Adults are coming in their numbers to receive a little bit of food to stem the hunger in their bellies. Have we ever considered how much these individuals have to debase themselves to come and collect food from complete strangers. Have we ever asked ourselves “How would I feel if I were in their shoes, crowding around a car, being shoved out of the way, praying that I too would eat a warm meal today”. Imagine you’ve handed out your last punnet of food and an old man stands before you dejected and says “I didn’t get any food, don’t you have anything for me please? Anything?” These are but a few of the scenarios that played themselves out on our three visits to the area.

I remember our first visit there as if it were yesterday. We had about 50 punnets or of akni, and having taken on the amaanah (trust) of distributing the food, I was so afraid that we wouldn’t find enough people to gift the food to. Boy, was I mistaken! The road in which we parked was empty, and when it was announced that people could fetch ‘food for free’, I stared in shock as I saw people running to our tiny car in droves. I kid you not when I say that food flew in under five minutes. Once the food was distributed, we slowly made our way around the bend where we saw five kids sitting in a row, eyes shining with delight, eating their food; my heart almost burst. My husband, who was from the area, stopped to greet an elderly man who was sitting with the kids, and after exchanging pleasantries, he said “Shukran for what you did”. As we drove away, I thought about what I’d just witnessed. “The kids probably haven’t eaten for days”, my husband said, “but you’d never say that if you weren’t from the area.” The only reason he knew was because, when they were younger, his friends would come to school and tell him so.

Three visits later, a group of us resolved to do these distributions on a monthly basis, and finally called a meeting. In the week leading up to it, one of the members suggested we make up dry parcels and distribute that along with the food, so that the recipients were at least guaranteed one more meal for them and their families. We met at a friend’s place and the meeting, though productive, left us all speechless. From our visits to this impoverished community, we knew that the need there was great, but nothing could have prepared us for what we were about to hear. Dry parcels, though a great idea, my husband started, posed another problem for the residents of this community; many didn’t have electricity and didn’t even own a pot. Perhaps a better way to start off with would be to gift the recipients with a loaf of bread along with the food we intend giving on our next visit. The situation is such that even those who have bread, eat it with sugar sprinkled on top. That bit of information was a hard pill to swallow as we all realised the extent of their situation and the luxury in which we live.

How often do we, as a society, complain about the taste of food without once thinking of how much effort and sacrifice it took for the host to present us with some edibles in the first place. How often do we complain that the food presented to us at parties, family gatherings, weddings, funerals and the like are not suited to the occasion.

I believe God placed us in this position to teach us lessons on gratitude, sacrifice, and true determination despite the odds. I believe He brought us together so that we may value all that we have, from the life that we live, to the possessions He’s gifted us, and the area in which we live. Our life in itself is a gift from him, one that should be used to the benefit of mankind as our beloved messenger Muhammad ﷺ is reported to have said “The best of you are those who are most beneficial to mankind”.

May The Almighty use us as a means of ease and benefit to those in need, and accept us as vehicles of hope and good will to all whom we meet. Ameen.