A humble hero of Cape Town
Over the weekend in Cape Town, a humble hero passed away.
Story and photographs by Conor Ashleigh/Oculi
Charlene Matafin was by job title a ‘skills facilitator’ with TB HIV Care at their drop-in centre in downtown Cape Town. However, her job title did little to capture the breadth and depth of her work for Cape Town’s community of people who inject drugs and were experiencing homelessness. For the hundreds, maybe thousands, that met her through that role, or her storied life in the city, she will be missed dearly.
Charlene was the first person somebody would see as they arrived at the drop-in centre each day. On my first visit, I wrongly assumed her role was to let people in and out of the security door. It took just a few minutes to see Charlene in full swing and multitasking at its finest. She was simultaneously listening to people’s tragedies and stories of misfortune while fixing someone else a cup of tea, pointing a new client in the direction of the counsellor’s office and slipping an old regular one of her cigarettes.
Charlene also led a needle and syringe clean up crew through downtown Cape Town, a thankless task. With their yellow bins and large tongs, the group would weave their way past the city’s town hall, through the central bus station, and other busy areas picking up discarded syringes or other injecting equipment.
Charlene and the others would often cop verbal abuse from passersby, who, not understanding the importance of harm reduction, would equate providing and cleaning up injecting equipment as akin to promoting drug use. Small in stature and with her quite raspy voice, Charlene listened attentively before explaining the importance of their work and the overwhelming global evidence that backs up the provision of sterile injecting equipment. Almost always, this fell on deaf ears but unperturbed, Charlene would continue leading the clean-up crew through the morning route.
When Charlene spotted people who inject drugs during one of the cleanups, she’d make a beeline to them and use these brief interactions to educate them on safe injecting and vein care. She would leave them with a pamphlet for the drop-in centre and promise them a cup of tea or a juice if they ever wanted to come in for clean injecting equipment.
When I asked Charlene what ‘Connecting with Care’ means to her she replied
“What it means to be is to reach out to someone who really needs care, especially someone who are using, who spikes up, it is very important to care for those people.”
In early 2020, just a few months before the world closed down, I was in South Africa creating a documentary about barriers to accessing healthcare and the stigma and discrimination facing those who inject drugs in the country. I worked for the International Network on Health and Hepatitis in Substance Users (INHSU) as part of a global project, Connecting with Care, I lead. Below is the South Africa documentary.
On my final day in Capetown, I had lunch with Charlene at one of the new hip sandwich shops opposite a bar owned by a professional surfer and an organic supplies shop. While the drop-in centre was just further up the same street, it felt a world away from the bagel bar and its line of cool start-up types.
As we finished up eating, Charlene said she wanted to take me for a quick walk around downtown. We stopped outside a recently renovated apartment block. Charlene explained that it was once ta ough girls home where she endured extreme hardships before leaving and starting her life on the streets as a teenager.
As we continued to walk around the city, she shared more chapters of her life story with me. It was a humbling walk and moved me very much that I had a sniffle and some tears as we hugged and waved goodbye.
I didn’t think it would be the last time I saw Charlene. We kept in touch via WhatsApp every few months. She’d update me on her life and those of the community members I spent time with for the film including Brandon Ramiah and Jennifer Smith.
As I farewell Charlene now, I am left reflecting on how it takes a good chunk of a lifetime to cultivate someone as special as Charlene, but often it is a brutally quick moment that they leave us. I am sure that this week, many people in Cape Town are mourning the loss of their friend Charline Matafin. I hope she rests in peace.
Finally, thanks to INHSU and the Connecting with Care project that I had the opportunity to meet Charlene and many other dedicated community workers, advocates, activists, and health workers throughout South Africa. In light of the recent unrest and multiple COVID waves, I hope everyone is safe and sustaining their energies to continue their courageous and vital work.
