Our home had become a fading flower, the green grass has withered away, there is nothing beautiful, everything defiled under its inhabitants. An entry in my diary: "I want to get away from my own home, want to visit people in their tidy clean homes. I feel resentment for our circumstances, I want my house back! I want to be able to leave my cell phone, purse, keys where ever I felt like, and be sure that it will still be there when I get back. I demand a clean kitchen, fresh food in my fridge, a spotless bath, a fresh toilet bowl, oh….. I want a life!"

Rumors and continues allegations has hampered sponsors and the Health Studio was surviving on regular clientele only by then, who knew about the streetkids and supported the cause. The men who thought it was a brothel, could not be helped, and other people, many of them regular clientele, could just not be associated or be seen at ‘that type of place’.

I was embarrassed about my house and we never invited anyone over to our home. Some snobbish businessman came over to access the situation with his wife who had become involved in caring for the cstreetkids. In all his wisdom, he suggested I get a cleaning team to tackle the house from top to bottom.  Ha, Ha, I felt like laughing to his face, but that would have embarrassed him, I wouldn’t want to be as bland as he was. He did not know that I already employed 3 people EACH day, costing me R165,00 per day, to clean the house and garden.  I did ask him if he can imagine what his impeccable house in Moreletta Park would look like in just one day if 34 children were left loose there.  He didn’t answer.