Emmanuel, 39 - Newspaper Vendor

“I’m born in KwaZulu-Natal. My father died when I was four. I don’t remember much about him, just that he used to lift me up high. My mom passed when I was eleven. I remember feeling scared, like I had no one. My old aunt looked after me. At 13, I left school and began working for my aunt, looking after her goats and cows. For that, she gave me a place to stay and food. There was no money. No chance to study. Just survival. If I wanted to eat, I had to work.

At 18, I came here to Johannesburg, hoping to find a better life. I started selling Homeless Talk newspapers at traffic lights. I sell them for R10, but I only get R3. Most days I sell around 10. That’s just R30. Often it isn’t enough — my rent is R500 a month, and taxi fares cost R27. Sometimes I can’t pay rent, so I pack my things and find a new landlord. It’s happened many times.

Things did get better. I found part-time work with a glass company. Life was more easy. But when COVID hit, the company closed down and I had no more income. Since then, I returned to selling newspapers. Life is very hard. Every day I’m just trying to make enough so I don’t become homeless. I’m very scared of becoming homeless

I live in Hillbrow. It’s a bad place. People steal from me all the time. I don’t have friends here. It’s just me. I wake up every morning at 5am, leave Hillbrow, and get to my robot by 6am. Morning traffic is when I make most of my money. Then I stay until 6pm. That’s twelve hours I stand. I eat once in the day. Some days just bread. I’m used to the hunger now. What’s harder is the loneliness. I haven’t made a single friend in Joburg. No one checks on me. No one waits for me at the end of the day. It’s just me.

When people just drive past me and look the other way, I feel invisible. But when someone talks to me — even just a hello — it gives me hope. But when they ignore me I want to give up. Not everyone is kind. Every now and then, someone is very cruel. They shout things like, ‘You see what happens when you vote ANC, you poes.’ Someone once threw empty bottles at me and laughed.

Watching my favourite football team, Mamelodi Sundowns, brings me some joy. So does my young son, who lives in KZN with his mother. He’s the only thing that makes me happy. I just want to be someone he’s proud of. Even though I’m separated from his mom, I try my best to support them. The child grant helps, but it’s not enough. I want my boy to have a life I never had.

I hope to one day have a permanent job. Something with a salary. I want to stop worrying every single day about rent, food, and survival. I don’t need to be rich, I just want a life that doesn’t feel like a big fight every day.

If I could be anything, I’d be a doctor. I love helping people. I know how it feels to suffer. That’s why I would want to help others. Every week I play the lottery. I spend R10. If I won, I would go back to KZN, buy property, and live off the income. I wouldn’t keep it all. That kind of money is more than one person needs. I would share it with my community. You can’t enjoy millions if people around you are suffering.”