~Robert’s Story~

Part 1~
The small block house across the street looked empty. As we entered, the curtains were drawn but the faint sunlight sneaked through at the edges. Under the thin blanket on the bed you could see the outline of what seemed to be the skeleton of a body. “His name is Robert,” the translator said in a hushed voice. He stirred awake and looked up at us with his big brown eyes, full of quiet sadness, taking in this group of young Americans with our water bottles, bags slung over our shoulders looking back at him. Our group of 3 or 4 people stood at the foot of the bed overwhelmed as we heard more about Robert’s situation. He lives alone with no one to care for him, his family deserted him when they found out he had HIV/AIDS. The neighbor across the street brings food when she has enough to share although she herself is very poor and struggling to make it. His niece comes to visit occasionally when she can to check up on him. He can’t go to the hospital because someone stole his identification and he doesn’t have the $8 fee or transportation to the Home Affairs office that is a 5 minute drive away.
The injustice of the situation hit me in the face like a ton of bricks. The loneliness, the unworthiness, the fear…I can’t imagine what it would be like. I can’t even begin to put myself in his shoes. I have a family that would take me in, a roof over my head, someone to care for me in my time of need. We asked if we could pray for him. As I gently laid my hand on his skinny arm sticking out from the blankets and bowed my head I was hit again with a deep hurt in my chest. As one after another begin to pray, I began to sob quietly as I thought about Robert and as God revealed his heart for Robert to me. After the prayer time one of the students, Jonathan, came to me and pulled some wrinkled Rand (South African dollars) from his pocket. “I have $8 to pay for Robert’s id.” God was moving on our hearts to be the answer to our own prayers and take action on the compassion we were feeling inside. We were able to schedule with Robert’s niece and neighbor to meet back the next morning to take him to the Home Affairs office then to the hospital to see if we could get him a referral to the Hospice center where he would have 24/7 care. There were tears in the ladies eyes as we were leaving. They kept thanking us for our willingness to be a part of a solution that seemed almost impossible a few hours before.

Part 2~
We returned to the one bedroom block house first thing the next morning. Robert was dressed and sitting in a chair in the bedroom. His niece had come early to get him ready for the day. There was still that haunting quiet sadness, almost a hollow look in those same big brown eyes staring back at me. Robert’s body was in such bad shape that he could not walk. With the help of his niece and some of the guys on our team we got Robert loaded in our rental van and headed out. First stop: Home Affairs office with our $8 to buy the new identification. I went on ahead into to the building with Robert’s niece while the others parked the van and unloaded Robert. The next time I looked up I saw one of the guys on our team, Alex, and he had Robert on his back carrying this skeleton of a man up the stairs to the waiting area. Big tears welled up in my eyes as I was taking in a real example of compassion taking action.
We were given the run around at the office, talk to this person, then no actually you need to speak with this person, etc. Finally after about an hour we were able to get Robert’s new id and load up in the van again. Next stop: the hospital, but not like you and I think of hospital. We pulled up to a large building with a constant stream of people coming and going, stopping and chatting, some laying on blankets under the trees in the front grass. One of our team found Robert a wheelchair so the transporting was easier. I am sure we were a sight to see: 3 Africans, Robert being wheeled in by a young American guy, 3 more young westerners just there for moral support. We went in on the first floor, explained Robert’s situation and that we needed to see a doctor to get a referral to a nearby Hospice Center. The nurse listened patiently and told us to have a seat on the bench. After about half an hour, the doctor was ready to see us. We wheeled Robert in to the small room with his crowd of friends following behind. We explained that he had HIV/AIDS, was very sick and we were trying to get him into a Hospice Center because he lived alone with no one to care for him. The doctor said he needed to be tested first for Tuberculosis for a proper diagnosis. So we loaded up once again and drove to the next stop. After a short wait, he was tested for TB then we were on our way back to the hospital. This time we were sent upstairs to another office to get the referral letter. We sat on the benches again waiting. Robert sat in the wheelchair and you could visibly see the day had taken a toll on his already weakened body. It was getting later in the day and we needed to get back for another responsibility with our team. We had to leave Robert and his niece to get the referral letter from the doctor. On the drive back to the base in my heart I was processing my anger at the unbelievable amounts of red tape.
Part 3~
The next day we made a trip to Robert’s house to see how he was doing. We were really disappointed to find out the doctor diagnosed him with TB and sent him home with medication that would last a few weeks then have him come back to the hospital. I am not a doctor by any stretch of the imagination but I knew he did not have very much time maybe not even a few weeks. We hung out and prayed for him again before we left. Over the weekend we didn’t have the chance to visit him, so on Monday Robert’s house was the first stop on our home visit route. We wouldn’t make it to any other houses that day. The house was dark and he was still skin and bones under the blankets worn from use. He looked worse, there was a look of pain in his quiet, sad, big, brown eyes. He had developed sores in his mouth and was unable to eat any of the food we had brought to him. It was obviously painful. I felt strongly in my heart we had to act and act quickly. The translator called an ambulance and gave them the address to his home. Some of our team stayed with Robert while the translator and I walked through the now rainy streets to a corner shop to wait for the ambulance. 10, 15, 20 min went by then 20 more min, about an hour after we called they pulled up and we hopped in to show them the way to his home. As we entered the house, we explained the situation. It was funny to see the looks of confusion on their faces why this young group of westerners were so concerned over this African man dying of HIV/AIDS. Two students and I loaded Robert up in the back of the ambulance. Once we arrived at the hospital we waited again in the hallway, Robert was on a gurney and we were holding his hands and reassuring him. By then we had learned that he actually understood quite a bit of English but couldn’t speak it back to us. His big, brown eyes had a hint of fear.
African culture and Western culture are very different. Africans tend to be quite laid back even in a professional place like a hospital. We as Americans tend to be quite task oriented in pretty much every setting. We decided as were waiting that we weren’t leaving until they agreed to admit Robert to the hospital. One of the students, Ian, was very instrumental in dealing with the doctors, explaining the situation once again. It was a relief to my heart as we finally got Robert admitted. Ian had the doctor agree to keep him for a week, because of his weakened state and no one to care for him at home. A nurse came to get Robert settled into the hospital bed and I asked if she could translate for me. She agreed and I was able to share the gospel with Robert, and how God brought us all the way from the USA to share this with him. He listened intently with those warm, gentle brown eyes as the nurse translated my words of truth and hope. I asked if he would like to accept Jesus into his heart that day and he nodded yes. The first smile I had ever seen crept across his wrinkled face. The hollowness in those eyes was immediately placed by hope and joy! Wow! What a transformation! We started crying with joy. We explained we were leaving for 2 weeks for Mozambique, but that our friend Rich would be coming by to check on him. The YWAM Kruger staff from the base we were working with were going to continue trying to get him accepted into a nearby Hospice center. I couldn’t wipe the smile off my face as we shared the news with the rest of the team! Robert had a new lease on life as he laid in that hospital bed with his body continuing to deteriorate.

Part 4 (The Best Part!) ~
We had gotten a few texts from Rich about Robert during our stay in Mozambique. Upon our return back to S.Africa we were met with the news that Robert had passed away a few days before. We were so sad but it was bittersweet for we knew where Robert was. The funeral would be Saturday and the family would like us to come. A small group of us dressed up and headed to the funeral. As we arrived Robert’s niece found me and asked if someone would be willing to speak. They ushered us to seats of honor in the front of the tent that had been put up in Robert’s front yard. The funeral was much like a western one with different people sharing about Robert’s life. And they would sing beautiful songs in their language in between each person sharing. I didn’t understand the words but my spirit was lifted by the hope and joy that was obviously in the songs and on their faces. I heard my name and I was praying under my breath as I walked up to the front that God would give me His perfect words of truth and comfort to this grieving family and friends. I shared about Robert and how his life had touched ours so deeply. That we had come to make a difference and God had brought us to his home one afternoon in a divine appointment. I shared about how we had talked and prayed with Robert and he had received new life in Jesus Christ. I was able to share the gospel in front of this group of people and how we knew Robert was in a much better place now. We know God is taking much better care of him there than we ever could here. He will be missed but I know I will recognize those warm, soft brown eyes filled with truth and hope when I arrive in heaven one day.
I am sorry for the length but I hope you enjoyed the story of Robert and how he impacted our lives during our time in South Africa. I hope it impacts your life too. There are so many more Roberts all over the world, dying without hope, without the truth that Jesus died to give us freedom and eternal life. The HIV/AIDS pandemic is huge and I feel like a grain of sand in trying to make a difference. The truth is we have to choose to move, to take action, instead of standing frozen like a deer in the headlights. God is on the move, are we on the move with Him?