The hero without a cape

Her name is Rudzani. Her eyes are smiling from above the mask, as she welcomes us to her Day Care center. 30 or 40 toddlers are turning their little heads looking at us surprised, as we enter. They have not had any visitors since the covid pandemic has started, and for many of those kids it means - through most of their lives. I sit down among them 'What're you playing?' They start speaking at me in all different languages. Woa. That's going to be fun.

'What are they speaking?' I ask Rudzani later. South Africa has 11 official languages, and though English is one of them, most of those kids' parents wouldn't speak it at home. I probably heard Zulu or Tswana, however - some of the kids in the nursery were not even from South Africa, but immigrants from Mozambique or Zimbabwe. When I walk to the other room, with older kids, already 4 or 5 years old, maybe twenty of them sitting behind little desks. They all talk decent English already (for four-year-olds). 'They all learnt it here? Rudzani, you and your teachers are incredible'.

You think you had it hard during covid, juggling home schooling and your own work? Let me provide you some perspective.

What if your house was basically one room, that you had to share with your partner, kids and maybe also in-laws. What if you could not do your job remotely. Because your job is running a street food stall. Or cleaning people's houses. Or attending to their gardens. Or construction work. What if you cannot stock up on food ahead of announced lock down, as you are paid daily and every day you buy food for yourself and your family for the money you earned just now. Lockdown is announced. You sit with your kids and in laws in one room with no foreseeable income source. What do you do? Go.

Lock-downs in the low-income communities are impossible to execute. If you have a choice covid or hunger, you will first listen to your stomach. So out the parents went, looking for any opportunity to earn an honest wage and provide for their families. They put the kids on the tablets to do the remote learning thing, right?

Sure they did.

Here's where the 'granny garage' comes into the game. Most countries in the world have public school system, however overcrowded, there is usually a place, a classroom to send the kids between ages 7 to 12 during the day. But that's not the case for younger age - public nursery services have huge gaps globally, and usually kids below 7 are also not that proficient in taking care of themselves during the day. So what do you do, when you have to go to work during the day? Only one parent goes and the other one stays at home to take care of kids. You ask relatives to help. You pay for a private nursery. What if none of it is a option? You have ladies like Rudzani, providing 'day care' service for the neighborhood kids within their house - often in their yard, hence the term 'granny garage'. Rudzani's nursery has been out there for many years and by now grew to two classrooms and even kids-size toilet.

'How much are the parents paying you for keeping their kids in your nursery?' I ask Rudzani. 'Whatever they can. Some pay. Some don't pay one month, then pay another.' 'And you still keep those kids in?' 'What choice do I have? They are my kids'. She hires two other teachers, provides meals during the day for all the students. She has approximately 70 kids under her care, from early morning hours until late in the evening, depending when parents come back from work. All teaching materials and staff training are provided by Care for Education/LEGO Foundation.

She kept running the place, whenever authorities allowed during covid, though when income of families in the neighborhood went down, she had to ask external donors for financial support. Again, lucky for her and the kids, LEGO Foundation came on board.

'It must have been hard for you.' She just laughs at me 'We are managing.' Later Brent Hutcheson from Care for Education tells me that her own 3-year-old son has been diagnosed with cancer within last year. Going through chemo - in the hospitals overwhelmed with covid. Can you imagine what it must have been like for her?

I can't. And if start, it petrifies me as a mother, as a human being.

Despite this deep personal problems she has never stopped caring for those kids.

I look at this woman with nothing but admiration, dwarfed by her spirit and strength. When she hugs me goodbye it feels like I am embraced by the spirit of motherhood.

Her name is Rudzani. She's a Wonder Woman without a cape and I want you to know her story.