Born in District Six and later moving to Lavender Hill due to eviction, activist Lucinda Evans is a Khoisan woman who aims to protect those who often seek protection. With gender-based violence and femicide being an increasing epidemic in South Africa, Lucinda finds it difficult to celebrate Women’s Month.
As you make your way to Philisa Abafazi Bethu (PAB), you are greeted with a wired fence. There is a big piece of land separating outsiders from the entrance of the centre. Before being buzzed in, a PAB team member with a walkie-talkie confirms BONA‘s meeting with someone on the other end of the line.
After signing in, I am directed to one of the many colourful containers which serve as a waiting room. Some time goes past, and I eventually find myself sitting in front of the renowned activist.
Lucinda, who regards the mighty elephant as her spirit animal, says she is a woman with a big mouth. “I own it,” she states. “My work I see as a mandated calling which at times I don’t understand… I didn’t experience gender-based violence because I’m an ouma-child [grandmother’s child]. I grew up with my grandmother but as a young child I was in the circles of older women and storytellers.”
Growing up in the marginalised community of Lavender Hill, Lucinda states, “Everybody speaks badly about Lavender Hill because we don’t see lavender, we can’t grow lavender because it’s still the apartheid spatial community with the blocks of flats. My work is to bring lavender back to the hills.”
On 24 August, PAB will celebrate 15 years of their work. “I started the project in my dining room. When I started the project, we were nine of the 15 years operating from my home. I’ve seen thousands of women with their children coming through my dining room,” shares Lucinda. “In 2020, the heart of COVID-19, we built this women’s centre with funding from the World Childhood Foundation, Rotary Club of Newlands, and Breadline Africa was the project manager.”
With only Lucinda’s emergency safehouse funded by the government, she adds, “Coca-Cola Peninsula Beverages has played a pivotal role in some of the big expansions of the centre, including our garden. During COVID-19, they supported us for two and a half years with water because we don’t have water here.” The centre currently uses water storage tanks to help flush their toilets.
Although PAB’s services primarily focus on gender-based violence prevention, Lucinda and her team run many programmes benefitting the community: A weekly get-together for seniors to combat loneliness but also to prevent violence against senior citizens; a youth-in-school programme which looks at the vulnerability of young people, and violence prevention, especially those in relationships; as well as an after-school programme for children aged 6-13. “It’s to teach children resilience. Children are the secondary victims of gender-based violence,” explains Lucinda.
On the premises, next to Lucinda’s office is a three-bed facility for transgender women who are victims of either rape or gender-based violence. The unit next door is for heterosexual males who are victims of gender-based violence. “As a gender activist, I recognise that men have challenges just like us [women]. We recognise that not all men are perpetrators, and we are saying as an organisation working in a gender-based violence space, ‘Let’s work with the men that are not able to cope and fulfil the societal role of how men should behave.'”
The centre also has a “baby saver,” a red letterbox-looking holder attached to the wired fence. First located in a wall at Lucinda’s home, the activist says, “We do understand that sadly within the Children’s Act, it doesn’t make provisions for safe relinquishing. So, as a country, we become completely mad when a baby has been found dumped, but are also not providing alternatives for women who have been raped and fallen pregnant.”
Lucinda tells BONA, “We see that things are completely out of control, and our present government only does lip service… We sadly find in my centre that even 30 years later that the constitution does not guarantee the protection of women at all.
“1956 happened when women decided that they too will topple the government. And 30 years later [after South Africa’s first democratic election], it’s a bittersweet day. I sit here and it’s bittersweet for me because not you nor I are safe. You and I cannot go out after hours, dress the way we want to dress or be who we want to be. So I find it very difficult to celebrate this Women’s Month. I find it easier because it’s 15 years of our work. It feels like things have gotten worse, or it’s always been worse, it’s just more visible.”
The Bishop Sydney Lavis Service to Humanity Award recipient also feels that there is no political will to ensure that there is a guarantee of the constitutional protection of women. “The constitution guarantees safety for all. We are not safe at this point in time.”
Although she received many awards for her bravery, (including the Legion of Honour (Ordre national de la Légion d’honneur) from France, the country’s highest order of merit), Lucinda still regards herself as an “ordinary township woman.”
“All these accolades, I bring it back to the lavender that we still cannot grow for the hills, so I share it with the community and my team. I understand what my assignment is. It is a difficult assignment – it’s violent, it’s invasive, and it comes with a history of pain.”
Also see: Women’s Month: Sessa Ntethe restores human dignity through Siphokazi Recovery Centre
