Celebrating & mourning a pioneer in South Africa's disability rights movement: Maria Rantho
By Shelley Barry, Office on the Status of Disabled Persons, South Africa (shelley@po.gov.za)
Mourning Maria
I don't know
How to wear this sorrow
It pulls over my head
Leaving me without form
I am loose threads ripped out-
All my patterns unstitched
By sorrow's sharp stabs
Worn and frayed,
I long to outgrow sorrow
To tear it off, toss it aside
To adorn myself with serenity
And the beautiful garment
of your smile
Shelleyb, July 13, 2002
As the country prepares to celebrate Women's Day with the aim of honouring the strides our women have made, one of our leading female activists passed away suddenly on July 12, with the majority of our citizens being unaware of who she is, of the life she lived and of the immense contribution she has made. Her name was Maria Rantho and she was a warrior who dedicated her life to promoting equality for people with disabilities.
She was a leader in the struggle for the recognition, respect and promotion of rights of disabled persons. Her death is a loss to her family, to the disability movement and to the nation at large. South Africa could not have achieved its successes on the promotion of rights for disabled persons without her commitment and tenacity. Her efforts spanned the nation and the region as a whole. In due course they spanned the world.
Maria Rantho is a woman all South African citizens should have pride in. A qualified nurse, Ms Rantho became a wheelchair user after being involved in a car accident. The inequality she experienced as a person with a disability spurred her on to fight against the oppression of people with disabilities in society. She later became the chairperson of Disabled People South Africa, an organization that was formed in the 80's to work towards the full participation and inclusion of people with disabilities in society.
Creating a national "voice of our own"
When asked about the formation of DPSA in an interview last year, Maria Rantho explained, " We felt that there was a need to create a voice of our own, where we would, for the first time, be able to advocate for our own rights." Ms Rantho spearheaded the drawing up of the first disability charter and was pivotal in the initiation of the Disabled Women's Development Programme, which aimed to address the specific discrimination that women with disabilities faced. She was also a member of the ANC's women's league. In 1995, Maria was responsible for heading the disability desk in the Restructuring and Development Programme (RDP) situated in the then Deputy President's office, which later became known as the OSDP ( Office on the Status of Disabled Persons)
When South Africa moved to a democratic state in 1994, she was the first and only Member of Parliament in the national legislature who had a disability. She struggled to work in an environment that was designed without any consideration for the access of persons with disabilities. Maria was a very strong fighter and the physical, attitudinal and other barriers that she faced never deterred her from her commitment to serve disabled people. Last year Maria stated," When I went to Parliament, disability was not on the agenda of Parliament itself. The struggle I had to wage to place disability on the agenda was a lonely one, because people were not familiar with disability issues."
Demanding no less than the utmost
It was here, at Parliament, that I had the honour of meeting and working with Maria. I had recently become disabled after a shooting incident six months prior to starting work at Parliament. My task was to provide support to Maria in promoting the rights of people with disabilities in the Parliamentary environment. When I met Maria, there was so much I needed to learn about the politics of disability. She shaped my politics at a time when what I needed most was a clear understanding of what it meant to have a disability. It was not easy working with Maria. Yet I look back on it as being one of the most rewarding periods in my life. Maria demanded no less than my utmost and at times the pressure of the work and demands felt too much for me. When I didn't perform to her expectations, Maria was quick to point it out. At the same time, when she was pleased with work accomplished, she'd call me into her office and sing my praises for hours. I recall her words, " The thing is, life is short. And I don't want to tell you these things when you are dead. They're no use to you then. In life, you have to tell people what you think. Me, I can't pretend."
Finding the way to move forward
It was Maria's brutal honesty that first made me see her true spirit and that made me respect her immensely. In a world full of pretenses and false smiles, Maria was incredibly unique. It didn't matter how important or intimidating anybody was, Maria would never be afraid to express how she felt. She couldn't stand racism, injustice, indifference and lack of progress. She had a dream and goal in life and this was to see freedom for people with disabilities. Anybody in earshot would be lobbied to further disability rights. She didn't ever stop educating people, wherever she went. Many people knew this Maria, the no-nonsense woman who would challenge anybody in a flash. Yet very few were exposed to a woman who was exceptionally sensitive, who was easily hurt by the opinions of others who put her down or did not understand her. She was not afraid of tears and when they came, she often let them out behind closed doors. Yet, she would wipe those tears and find a way to move forward in the world. There was too much to do and it would appear that Maria instinctively knew that her time here was limited. She lived with an urgency that was remarkable to witness.
Her son, Mpo, was the centre of her life- even though she felt torn between motherhood and the endless struggle that demanded her attention. She would tell me how people laughed at her in her chair and as a little boy, her son would shout to them, " Don't laugh at my mother! She just can't walk. That's all " Maria had endless stories like these to tell, of what it meant to be disabled, a mother, and a black woman. Always interested in lifestories, Maria and I planned that someday she would tell me her story and I would write it. " Do you think it would be an interesting book?" she would chuckle.
Time we ran out of
Ironically, we forgot about those plans, until six years later when I started working on proposals to gather stories of women with disabilities. Just two months before her passing, I called Maria to tell her that the time had come to tell her story. The Office on the Status of Disabled Persons was planning to launch a project called "Voice!" calling for the lifestories of women with disabilities in South Africa. Maria was enthusiastic, "Im ready!" she said. " Bring a thick book and a tape recorder" Between life, work, her schedule and mine, we didn't manage to make the time. Now, it is time that we have run out of. It has made me think about how we get caught up in overworking and often neglect to make the time to do what nourishes us. As we launch the Voice! Project this week, we are also calling for people to share their stories of Maria, so that somehow, her story can be written after all. An important step towards the telling of that story lies in the publication of the history of the disability rights movement in South Africa, to be launched next month. Some of Maria's story lies there. But most of all, her story lies in the progression of disability rights in South Africa, in Africa and the world.
Roles in South Africa, Africa and internationally
Maria was on the core team of people who drafted South Africa's disability policy, the Integrated National Disability Strategy, which was passed by Cabinet in 1997. In 1999, Maria left Parliament and was appointed to the Public Service Commission where she played a significant role in the fight against corruption. She headed some of the major investigations aimed at fostering good governance. She was still in the employ of the Public Service Commission at the time of her passing.
Maria Rantho was a leader who was recognized in Africa and across the world, once occupying positions as Deputy Chairperson of Disabled People International (DPI) and the Pan African Federation of Disabled Persons (PAFOD). She was instrumental in the institutionalization of the African Decade of Disabled Persons, which has now been adopted by the African Union. In her lifetime, she set developments in motion in this country, which will forever shape our democracy. Hamba Kahle, Comrade Rantho. We take your vision forward.
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