Taxi ride that cost a dad a daughter’s life and endless identity woes

In 1996 during his second year as an employee of the Ekurhuleni Metro Municipality in Alberton, East Rand, Wilson Gumede (54) received an urgent call from his wife, Thembisile Thobile Gumede (49) in Kwa Ngwanase, the Gumede clan village in KwaZulu-Natal. Gumede was informed that his little daughter of one and a half years of age, who was born chronically ill and was disabled from birth, was in critical condition, with death knocking menacingly on the door.

Out of confusion and desperation, he went straight to the municipal residence hostel in Alberton where he lived, changed from work clothes and went to take a taxi home in KwaZulu-Natal.

“Everything that happened from the time I got the call and arriving home became a blur in my mind,” he recalled. “As time appeared to stand still despite the urgent pressure of the situation, I eventually arrived at home eight hours later as an emotional wreck.”

Gumede and his wife immediately took their sick baby to a specialist doctor who had treated her before. That was in Amanzimtoti, 300km away. Less than 10km from home, the taxi approached what seemed to be a routine roadblock, which used to be conducted by the local 121 Battalion Defence Force and the South African police.

Although the laws were repealed in 1986, following the introduction of a common green book for all South Africans, in Gumede’s area things were still the same. Police attitudes towards black people were still the same. The rude demand for a pass book was their standard substitute for greetings. When Gumede was ordered to produce, he apologised for not having the document on him and explained that he had left it behind in Johannesburg, as he had left in a hurry.

He showed them his daughter’s condition and hoped for mercy, understanding and empathy. As a person who was also working for the government, he at least expected them to phone the Ekurhuleni metro municipality to verify his statement if there were any doubts. Instead they simply pulled Gumede out of the taxi, dragged him to the army/police car and threw him in the back before locking the door. “My highly expectant wife came out of the taxi, carrying the critically sick child,” he recalled.

They were also immediately bundled into the back of the police van.

“This happened despite the fact that my wife produced her own identity document, which they simply ignored. There was no compassion. Empathy was a foreign emotion for these people who were supposed to serve us with kindness and humanity.”

Until its demise in 1994 the apartheid regime had a lot of black police officers who fed their cruel and sadistic instincts by enjoying persecuting their own people.

Despite showing them his staff identity card, which he carried at all times in his wallet, they insisted that he was from Mozambique and therefore an illegal immigrant. He had to crawl back from whence he came. This was despite the fact that his ID number was reflected on the staff card.

The police then made a U-turn from where they arrested them, drove back about 10km past their home, and an additional two kilometres to the Kosi Bay border post,  which separates SA from Mozambique.

“They took my wife, child and I to the border passport office on the South African side, under the allegations that we had entered the country illegally and took us to the Mozambican side where officials were instructed to take us ‘back’ as their citizens.”

However, they were unable to understand one another as the Mozambique border staff insisted on speaking Portuguese or one of the indigenous languages. Eventually they addressed them in isiZulu and explained that they just couldn’t accept them as citizens because they didn’t belong to their country.

“They commanded us to go back home and get the child treated. The South African side of the border told us that what had happened to us was the worst inhumane treatment of helpless people. They told us to go back home to SA.”    

Twenty years later in 2016 when Gumede tried to apply for a passport, authorities told him that his ID was red-flagged following the border incident where he was accused of being an illegal immigrant. After realising that he couldn’t apply for a passport and having been unable to access other services such as credit in the banking and retail sectors, Gumede made contact with the department of home affairs regarding this long-standing problem.

And despite the fact that he has provided relevant documentation and signed affidavits to prove that he’s a genuine South African citizen, his bona fides in this regard are still in question. In addition, he has furnished the department with sworn testimonies by family members, childhood friends, a former school principal, and pastor of his church as well as members of the congregation.    

Unfortunately such diligence in proving his South African citizenship to the authorities has so far been ignored. His attempt to save their daughter’s life amounted to nought. He says she died a few days after the border incident without a second opportunity to take her to a doctor.

“We still feel the pain of loss but we are consoled by the fact that we have four other children. The eldest was born in the same year of the border incident. ”

Gumede is still employed by the Ekurhuleni metro municipality. When he realised that his grievance didn’t bear any fruit, Gumede approached the Sowetan. Repeated attempts by this newspaper since last year to get a response from officials of the department of home affairs have so far drawn a blank. At the time of going to press, office manager Eunice Maluleke and Siya Qoza, department spokesperson hadn’t responded to email requests sent in July last year on this matter. Gumede says this matter has affected him and his family in an unimaginable way.

The fact that his ID is not recognised by some business and banking institutions means that he can’t open accounts. He is also unable to travel beyond the borders of this country as he can’t obtain a valid passport.