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How do we bring about change and try to live a decent life at the same time?
Any sane person watching the meltdown in the US and the rise of frightening demagogues will want to hit the pause button and then the “try again” button.
History has shown repeatedly that tyrants, basically hard-wired bullies, have swept themselves to power using a social movement. In SA, the same thing happened, but many of us who were part of that sweeping, broad movement for change are feeling beat down and disheartened at the outcome.
There is a distinct sense that selfish ruling elites have abandoned those social movements upon whose shoulders they were carried to power at the polls.
Now what? It all feels fragmented and there is a concerted assault on what is true, and what is pumped out from the ruling heights.
Well, the worst thing we can do, and many of us are in this mode, is to dive deeper into the duvet and say that is not my problem — until trouble comes knocking at our door.
The dreadful spectre of a deindustrialised East London refers: if the random tariffs drummed up by a scary, increasingly vindictive US president Donald Trump actually causes a drop in sales, will we suffer? We will and mightily.
But let’s not start our day in darkness! Let’s see the brighter side of absurdist political theatre.
My landy came over and said the rubbish truck was here. She knew I’d missed last week’s collection.
I leapt into ADHD hyperfocus, hauled out the putrefying vegetarian bags and sped to my garage door, only to see the back of that truck, guys hanging off it, disappearing from sight.
“Wait! Wait!” I yelled in abject desperation.
And no lies, from the back of this outsourced truck — BCM’s fleet is mysteriously never in serviceable shape, so contractors must be brought in — from the mouth of an outsourced contract worker came this simple word, floating in the air, shouted out loudly I might add: “No!”
And, poof! They were gone.
In a social world that seems to be imploding, no-one will be unaffected unless they are high up on the mountain, grubbing for roots and living off a mountain seep (which I have done, though not the roots bit, and it was great until the food and company runs out). We are all going to have to face up to this multifaceted onslaught.
Some will be warriors, the eco-scorpions out there fighting the poachers, the green movements contesting the oil and gas climate rogues, the pesticide, and plastic, and forest-chomping agri-industry, illegal sand mining criminal network and genocide in the Middle East. Pick your poison.
Others are not so crazy brave and will be riding their bicycles.
Yes, the Grandads’ Army ballies have chosen, in their twilight years, to be road warriors, pedalling the rumbustious and dangerous cross-section of SA itself for 14 days to get home.
Why? In support of child surgery at the incredible East London paediatric surgery unit which straddles Cecilia Makiwane and Frere hospitals.
They are not putting cash in the hands of the hospital administration; that would be fuelling the ongoing disaster of uneven operations there.
Instead, these doughty, non-radical, mostly Christian souls have chosen to ride for the Eyabantwana Trust, set up precisely to shore up the gaping rent in funding suffered by many medical professionals in these hospitals.
Where has the money gone? Are the doctors being paid properly? Honestly, at this point, these issues, as searing and vital as they may be, are taking the back seat.
The 10 ballies, led by their 82-year-old bearded, wiry professor of paediatric surgery, Colin Lazarus, are not focused on these matters.
They have their sights set on the top of the hill, where there is a debt to be paid for an expensive and vital piece of surgical equipment which will help, if not save, the lives of thousands of the poorest of our Eastern Cape children.
These people, and please let’s also see them as an all-gender, multiracial crew made up of the riders, drivers and three women caterers, two nurses, one media hack, Deloris Koan (it’s a father-daughter media combo this year), are not part of any social movement manically determined to bring about the end of corruption and power abuse.
Children — it’s all about children for them.
And they are a movement of cyclists set up under the humorous moniker of “Grandad's Army”, 173 of them on one WhatsApp group, riding to Cape Town or from the northern border 1,500km home today, or just doing the “Dispatch, Quenera Drive loop”.
All of this healthy energy directed to one entity, the Eyabantwana Trust. That’s a lot of people motivated enough in life to cycle regularly and, no doubt, hold down responsible jobs and roles in our local society.
They are indeed a social movement, but here’s the nub, their eyes are hyperfocused on something that is intrinsically good, if not pure. The wellbeing of those children.
They do this in the context of rising deaths from malnutrition of Eastern Cape children in our supposed-democracy — I have just taken the preamble to our constitution and stuck it on my blinds as a reminder — and it states, that “We, the people of SA” adopted this constitution so as to establish a society based on legally protected fundamental human rights and that we strive to improve the quality of life of all citizens.
Believe me, this preamble is not taped to the doors of the G-dads’ support vehicles or even mentioned in any social media.
No, there are even more profound statements from the riders about why they are doing this questionable ride — they ride through the dreadful coal belt of Mpumalanga and the Free State where huge trucks laden with coal and spewing coal dust thunder along in an eternal quest to keep our power stations on fire.
It’s dangerous and sombre.
And then there are sections of road alongside the Malutis where tar has turned to lace and traffic, including massive articulated lorries that snake and curl their way between the craters. Truly shocking. Worthy of dark tourism in its own right. Today, the weather is forecast to be 36°C, one down from 37°C on Monday.
There are many moments of glory on the route — the baobabs and elephants of Mapungubwe, the giraffes and lions beyond the fences as they cycle past the Kruger National Park and adjacent private parks, and of course, the moment they cross the Orange and exhale at the vast, open and calm spaces of the incredible Eastern Cape.
Here is what Dr Ziphozonke Mafika, at 43 one of the youngest of the ballies, said before setting off from Mapungubwe on Monday: “Being part of the Grandads’ Army taught me a lot about selflessness and serving others”, and that the trust was teaching people that “the true measure of success of any community is in the serving of humanity.”
He was also cycling in honour of his aunt, Vuyelwethu Mahasha, who died in 2020 after a long and courageous battle against breast cancer. She was 42. October is breast cancer awareness month.
Then another paediatrician, the renowned Dr Peter-John Berlyn, of the East London Berlyn clan, but who works in Kimberley, said: “The mission of the trust radiates care, compassion, and improving the lives and futures of children.”
The ride, he says, is a moment to contribute to “building hope and harmony in SA”.
Gerald Berlyn, a loved East London force of humane nature and community spirit, said when the hills get “excruciating”, his mantra was that “somehow this will make a difference in some unknown child’s life”.
Which is pretty amazing. The beneficiaries of this sweat and effort will probably never know how this ride helped them, and probably will never get to meet Gerald and his merry madmen.
Grandads’ Army do not see themselves as part of any social movement beyond their focus on the child; but in the context of a global and national leadership crisis, their words have meaning. They are part of a philosophy of concern and care which is rising from communities.
We are looking so hard that our eyeballs are smoking for a SA that goes beyond the belching tyres, the guns, the hate speech, the power mongering, the lying, the stealing and hoarding, for something that returns humanity to its base nature — of collective compassion, empathy and sharing of resources.
Note how the riders often mention that the biggest gift for themselves is from within the group. They talk about the camaraderie, the friendship, the interactions on the road, the chirping and chivvying, the adorable irritating quirks.
The good times, the bad times, but always the good times!
This crew are quite smart in seeing their act as symbolic — they won’t bring about free, excellent healthcare, education and life chances for all our children, the cost being a drop in the ocean of the billions that are siphoned off by malignant and benign narcissists.
Such narcissists, according to clinical psychologist and psychiatrist Prof John Gartner, formerly of Johns Hopkins University Medical School for 28 years, have no empathy, no regrets, feel no anxiety, break laws and play the victim while they are the perpetrators.
Finally, he says, they are sadists. They experience enormous pleasure in hurting, harming, degrading or debasing others.
In fact, he quotes the philosopher psychologist Erich Fromm, who survived the Nazi death camps, who summarised these malignant traits with one word — evil. (Source: “Dementia Don? This is what proves Trump’s dementia” on the Daily Beast podcast which was watched by 920,233 people.)
Seen in this light, the Grandads’ Army are indeed a bunch of pilgrims on a mission for the broader good of society. They carry a hope way beyond their own words, if not thoughts.
But we, the smart, thinking, reading people, can see, we can feel, that this sort of project is what we need throughout society, in every community.
Every small act of kindness may be punished by brutes but every such act carries in it the seed of a better life for children.
You go for it, grandads and grandmas!
Donate to: Eyabantwana for the Children Trust, Nedbank account number 113 818 1366
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