75) A Tragic Day
Cecilia and I often did our shopping together, she was a big help in showing me around the shops and as we did not live far from each other it was easier to go to town in one vehicle. I remember one Thursday we had used my car to go to town and I was dropping her off at her house. When we drove up the drive way her farm assistant, Mathias came running up to the car. There were a number of African women around all crying and making a great deal of noise. Mathias told us that his toddler had fallen into a hole and they could not get her out. We ran to the hole and could hear the baby crying but it was a deep hole and we had no idea what to do. Cecilia asked me to please ring for the fire brigade and I ran into the house. I tried ringing the emergency number but I could not get through. I tried again and again but the phone just made strange noises. I then remembered it was a party line and assumed that someone else was using the line. I ran out to Cecilia and told her that I could not get through and that I was going to my house to use the phone there. She told me to tell them that the baby had fallen down a disused borehole.
I got into the car and drove as fast as I could along the dirt road back towards my house. It was only about 2 kilometres I think but at the time it seemed much further. When I tried to ring 99 and then 999 from my house I still got a funny noise. After a few tries my mind cleared enough for me to realise that although 99 was the emergency number in Zimbabwe and 999 had been the emergency number in England maybe it was different here. We had not had the phone in the house for long and when they had installed it the technician had said that he did not have any more directories in stock. As the new ones were due out soon if I could manage without one for a little while I would get a new one then. At the time that seemed fine but now that I was frantically trying to get through to the emergency service it was not so good. Through the front window I saw the man across the road in his garden so I ran over and asked him what was the number for emergencies. He did not know, I was stunned; he had to go inside and ask his wife what it was. She remembered that it was 1100 or something like that. I ran back and got through to the fire brigade and they said that they would send someone straight away.
I raced back to Cecilia’s house and the firemen were not far behind me. I think one of Cecilia’s neighbours must have called them before I managed to. We could still hear the cries of the little one at that time and the firemen set to work digging from the side to try and get her out. Cecilia had arranged for a farmer who lived near her to plough some of her land that day and to do the job he had move the sheets of corrugated iron that were covering the old borehole and tragically he had forgotten to replace them when he had finished. I remember it was a very hot day and as the men worked Cecilia and I brought them cool drinks. They started at about 2 o’clock, I think there were five of them and with four digging and one resting they worked until about 9 o’clock that evening but the poor baby did not survive.
During the afternoon I took plates of sandwiches that Cecilia had made out for the men. I spoke to one of them and asked him how it was going. He told me that there was not much hope for the child as it had been a couple of hours since her crying had stopped so they thought she had gone but they would not give in, they would do all they could.
About 5 o’clock big black clouds darkened the sky and a huge storm blew up. The thunder rolled and rumbled around the sky and the lightening cracked loud and fierce, lightening up the darkening sky. With it came the rain, an almighty downpour that went on and on and on. It was one of the fiercest storms I experienced in Witbank. The rain turned the soil into sticky mud but still the firemen went on digging. I really felt that they had done the very best that they could to save the child but it was not to be so, poor little mite.
In the aftermath of this tragedy I thought a lot about the emergency number. I was amazed that someone could not know it. We had been taught it as kids and I thought everyone else would have been. I later found out that there was not a standard emergency number for the whole of South Africa, most of them were combinations of 1s and 0s but they were not all the same. I also think that the police and the ambulance were the same as each other but the fire department was on a different number but I am not sure about that. I just know how in an emergency you can get very flustered and that one number drummed into you since childhood was so much easier to remember. I even wrote to the newspaper about it and my letter was published. I think I expected that there would be a flood of replies and everyone would agree with me that a standard number for the whole country would be much better. I though that we would change the system. My letter went un-noticed, no one answered it and it seemed that everyone there was satisfied with things as they were. I spoke to people about it and asked them why if it was possible to do it in England (999) or in Zimbabwe (99) why not in South Africa. Some people said maybe it was easier in England because there were so many more subscribers and that made it possible but then I pointed out that it was done in little Zimbabwe too. Others said maybe it was possible in Zimbabwe because it was so small and they had so few subscribers but then of course I could point out that it was done in England too. I went on about it for a while but there did not seem to be anything that I could do about it so I let it drop. I was glad to find that here in Australia we have a standard 000 number for the whole country. I don’t think it would have made any difference to this little child but I am sure that there could be times when the few moments that it saved would be the difference between life and death.
I got into the car and drove as fast as I could along the dirt road back towards my house. It was only about 2 kilometres I think but at the time it seemed much further. When I tried to ring 99 and then 999 from my house I still got a funny noise. After a few tries my mind cleared enough for me to realise that although 99 was the emergency number in Zimbabwe and 999 had been the emergency number in England maybe it was different here. We had not had the phone in the house for long and when they had installed it the technician had said that he did not have any more directories in stock. As the new ones were due out soon if I could manage without one for a little while I would get a new one then. At the time that seemed fine but now that I was frantically trying to get through to the emergency service it was not so good. Through the front window I saw the man across the road in his garden so I ran over and asked him what was the number for emergencies. He did not know, I was stunned; he had to go inside and ask his wife what it was. She remembered that it was 1100 or something like that. I ran back and got through to the fire brigade and they said that they would send someone straight away.
I raced back to Cecilia’s house and the firemen were not far behind me. I think one of Cecilia’s neighbours must have called them before I managed to. We could still hear the cries of the little one at that time and the firemen set to work digging from the side to try and get her out. Cecilia had arranged for a farmer who lived near her to plough some of her land that day and to do the job he had move the sheets of corrugated iron that were covering the old borehole and tragically he had forgotten to replace them when he had finished. I remember it was a very hot day and as the men worked Cecilia and I brought them cool drinks. They started at about 2 o’clock, I think there were five of them and with four digging and one resting they worked until about 9 o’clock that evening but the poor baby did not survive.
During the afternoon I took plates of sandwiches that Cecilia had made out for the men. I spoke to one of them and asked him how it was going. He told me that there was not much hope for the child as it had been a couple of hours since her crying had stopped so they thought she had gone but they would not give in, they would do all they could.
About 5 o’clock big black clouds darkened the sky and a huge storm blew up. The thunder rolled and rumbled around the sky and the lightening cracked loud and fierce, lightening up the darkening sky. With it came the rain, an almighty downpour that went on and on and on. It was one of the fiercest storms I experienced in Witbank. The rain turned the soil into sticky mud but still the firemen went on digging. I really felt that they had done the very best that they could to save the child but it was not to be so, poor little mite.
In the aftermath of this tragedy I thought a lot about the emergency number. I was amazed that someone could not know it. We had been taught it as kids and I thought everyone else would have been. I later found out that there was not a standard emergency number for the whole of South Africa, most of them were combinations of 1s and 0s but they were not all the same. I also think that the police and the ambulance were the same as each other but the fire department was on a different number but I am not sure about that. I just know how in an emergency you can get very flustered and that one number drummed into you since childhood was so much easier to remember. I even wrote to the newspaper about it and my letter was published. I think I expected that there would be a flood of replies and everyone would agree with me that a standard number for the whole country would be much better. I though that we would change the system. My letter went un-noticed, no one answered it and it seemed that everyone there was satisfied with things as they were. I spoke to people about it and asked them why if it was possible to do it in England (999) or in Zimbabwe (99) why not in South Africa. Some people said maybe it was easier in England because there were so many more subscribers and that made it possible but then I pointed out that it was done in little Zimbabwe too. Others said maybe it was possible in Zimbabwe because it was so small and they had so few subscribers but then of course I could point out that it was done in England too. I went on about it for a while but there did not seem to be anything that I could do about it so I let it drop. I was glad to find that here in Australia we have a standard 000 number for the whole country. I don’t think it would have made any difference to this little child but I am sure that there could be times when the few moments that it saved would be the difference between life and death.
posted by MC at
10:20 pm
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