“After we treat them, they say you kwere kwere”

Isipingo camp, Durban, Friday 1 May

My name is Elvira Modesero, I’m from Burundi and I came to South Africa in 2004. I studied nursing at the University of UKZN and I’ve been working here as a nurse for over two years now. I worked at Addington hospital and I work now at St Mary’s hospital.

I came to South Africa because of killing and insecurity in Burundi, and when I came here, you could say that it was quite different then. My first experience with xenophobia was in 2008.

It was here in South Africa that I first heard the term ‘kwere kweres’ and all those derogatory terms and I compared it to the life we had back in Burundi, where we take care of foreigners. The way that they treat foreigners here is very different from our country, where we are used to giving hospitality to foreigners.

#Solidarty4Survival: Elvira Modesero from MSF Southern Africa on Vimeo.

The first time we left our country, we left without anything. We just arrived here in South Africa, and they gave us this permit that says that you are allowed to work and study. We didn’t know anybody here. We didn’t have anyone to rely on. The government didn’t support us with even the clothes we are wearing.

I studied to be a nurse because my father was killed. He was shot. And while he was dying, he called for help but no one could help. We didn’t even know the most basic care that could have saved him. And I said to myself, I will do nursing so that I can save somebody’s life. I saw my father dying. I still remember the day. It was on the 21 October 2000. He was shot and we couldn’t even[save him]. So I decided to be a nurse so that I could save lives.

In my job, everyone comes - Burundian, South African, Nigerian - and I treat them altogether. But after we treat them, they say you ‘kwere kwere’.

On my nursing pledge I made when I graduated, I pledged that I, Elvira Modezero, will take care of my patient regardless of their religion, their sex, their gender, their political issues, whoever is a human being who comes towards me, I will take care of him and help him to get healthy again.

At my workplace, I don’t see ‘South Africans’, I see a human being that I’m taking care of. Even though sometimes I think, gosh, this person here might be part of the group that is doing this to us. When I’m working, I don’t even think about that. Yes sometimes our feelings as human beings rise up, but I kill [those feelings].

I don’t think I am a Burundian or could be South African, I am a human being. A creation of God. So I can’t separate myself from South Africans. But the way they look at us, that’s what I don’t like. I want them to look at us as a creation of God, that’s what the Bible says. Even today, I still believe that’s true. We are all together, we are the same. I don’t know why they don’t want to accept us.

I have a Zulu friend who is a nurse like me, Lindile. We met through our profession and she has cried every day. Even today she is fasting, because of this xenophobia. She said she won’t allow God, or whoever is doing this to allow South Africans to continue killing foreigners.

When they came to attack us on 14 April, she took care of me. She fetched me, and put me in her house. Even my kid is being taken care of by another South African who is hiding him. I could see that she was uncomfortable because of her neighbours, but she’s my friend and I love her.

At my work, every month they always compliment me because I’m doing my job right. Most of my patients are South African, because I’m working in a rural area. I don’t think I’m a bad nurse because I’m a refugee, I’m not South African. I’m a good nurse. A good nurse is someone who is committed to her job, committed to her patients, who loves her patients.

I didn’t choose to work in a rural area. That’s where I found a job. I applied for over 55 jobs. This was the only one that responded to my application.

I graduated in 2012. Then I did my community service. The whole [of the next] year I sat at home. All my other colleagues, they had a job, I was the only one sitting at home. I applied to over 55 hospitals and no one answered me.

The last hospital I sent my CV to, I said “Okay God, you’re going to answer it,” that’s when I got a job. I was desperate. And here in South Africa, they say they need nurses. How many nurses are there with qualifications, sitting at home, with a degree? They need midwives, psychiatric staff, but they won’t allow them to work.

I can think of one example [of discrimination in the health system] here in the camp. There was a pregnant lady who was about to deliver. We asked the policemen guarding us for help, but they refused . The lady delivered at the gate. When they arrived at the hospital, the mother still had the cord and the placenta inside and someone was carrying the baby without any gloves.

When we arrived at the hospital – I don’t want to name the hospital because everyone knows about it anyway– the nurses said “Put the mother over there on the bed.” They didn’t even come and cut the cord! The mother was bleeding, she could have died.

Because God loves refugees, the child survived. They were repatriated one week ago to Tanzania.

I have another example: I had just arrived here and I was waiting in a clinic. There was a woman who came with a sexually transmitted infection. She was diagnosed as HIV-positive the same day. But she couldn’t speak Zulu or English, so they didn’t even counsel her. They told her “You’re HIV positive, go and take your blood to that office.” We were sitting in the queue, and everyone knew the status of the patient.

My patients, I treat them as human beings. When I come in, I greet everyone and I smile. I tell them that they free to talk to me anytime they want. I think I could go into psychology now, so that I can help people who are traumatised.