My little washing machine could not take the punch, it gave up, like I so many times wanted to do. The washing was piled up so high that it would take 3 weeks to get through it washing by hand. The streetkids had bugs in their clothes that made them itch. We carefully had to seperate them from our own, in the end I threw piles of soiled clothes away.

Everyday we bought my husband a pair of socks to wear to work the next day, or in the morning he’d go to town without socks (or wear the dirty ones from the day before) then stay in the car while I run in to buy him a pair before he goes to work. We did that for 7 days. The we decided to keep an eye on one pair of black socks only, which he washed out every night for months until it had holes in.  He got upset and depressed so many times and I am sure he often thought of leaving me.

We locked away everything we considered valuable,  basic necessities I carried with me:  razor & blades, body cream , pens, even the TV’s remote control could all be found in my handbag.
The sore room was fitted with a lock to safeguard the sponsored food because the children would eat through out the day until they are full and then still take and waste it, half eaten open tins, boxes, bread and fruit pieces could be found in the morning under their beds.  Slices of buttered bread every where.  One night the kids loosened the screws of the lock and broke into the pantry when we were at church.  Since then it stayed open and the food cupboard moved to my bedroom, to ensure that their was porridge and milk in the morning to give to my own children before they went to school.

Sugar, cooldrink, rooibos tea, baby milk, all had to be hidden away.  Even two coffee mugs, two glasses and two plates were left in my room (not plastic) for Mario and myself to use The house was dirty all the time, walls, floors, furniture, the kitchen cupboards full of sugar grains, coffee stains, sticky with jam, and bread crumbs and cooldrink spills.  The bed linen smelled of dirty feet and old urine.