PEACE IN THE CHAOS: THE STORY OF PHINIUS

Phinius Sebatsane, who brings friendship and help to people living on the streets, has learnt how people can heal – just as he has healed from issues that included hating his father. Right: Phinius chats to Shaun, who lives on a pavement in Cape Town’s Muizenberg | Photos: Leentjie du Preez

Phinius (34) was born to Annah, a domestic worker, in the village of Vaalwater in South Africa’s rural Limpopo. After editing his school newspaper for three years, he studied a range of subjects from economics to trauma relief at various institutions, and now works to restore the dignity and lives of homeless people. He lives in Cape Town’s beachside Muizenberg

My mom was amazing. I have happy memories of her cuddling and tickling me, and fondly remember massaging her back when she got home from work. I was her only child and we were very tight.

I never met my father, who left my mother when she was pregnant with me. I used to hate him because of that rejection. I even hated my name because it was his name too.

When I was 12, my stepdad attacked my mom. I chased him from our house and put his things outside. I never saw him after that day. Not long afterwards, she fell ill, I think with TB or HIV, and I left school to look after her. I fed her, bathed her. She suffered a lot and then she died.

rejection

My mom’s death really messed me up. I so missed her hugs and laughter, her hymns in the morning, working with her in the garden. Still grappling with the rejection of my father, I felt a lot of anger. I lived with my aunt until I was 16, but it wasn’t a good relationship, so I moved to a hostel founded by the Waterberg Welfare Society, an organisation working with vulnerable children. A lady called Mary Stephenson, who co-founded the society, encouraged me hugely, and is still my ‘mother’ today.

After the death of Phinius’s mother, Mary Stephenson of the Waterberg Welfare Society encouraged him. Phinius still calls her his mother today

The welfare society encouraged us to write and read out our experiences. When I got up on a stage and started to read out my pain, I felt less sad and grumpy, and found that people started to be drawn to me.

In my stories, I wasn’t talking to myself but to somebody. I’d always felt God existed and though I resented Him because I had no parents, I went to a church youth group every Friday night. At first it was because of a girl I liked, but then a verse from Jeremiah in the Bible began to mean a lot to me. It goes, ‘For I know the plans I have for you,’ declares the Lord, ‘plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.’

purpose

Just knowing God’s plans for me were good despite my mother dying gave me purpose in my pain, and I decided to get baptised and follow Jesus. A community started to come into my life. This included another lady from the welfare society called Bab Cox who helped me financially, and more importantly, included me in her family; a school teacher called Mr Botha who started calling me ‘son’; and an amazing pastor Daphne, who loved me unconditionally. Where I come from we believe it takes a village to raise a child and I was definitely raised by a whole community!

My dad’s rejection of me and my mom’s death really messed me up but when I wrote and read out my pain, I felt less sad and grumpy,’ says Phinius | Photo: Leentjie du Preez

After school I started working at a community radio station. I liked being a voice for those who didn’t have my privileges, and prayed that God would  use my life for something bigger than my own sadness. Mary and others helped me finish high school and do some courses in journalism, then sent me to an organisation called Youth With A Mission (YWAM) in Cape Town for further courses. I was mad at Mary for sending me to Cape Town. Without money for toiletries or snacks, I felt like a beggar. But I also started to learn that God accepts me and has a call on my life. I stopped needing people’s attention to feel secure and I didn’t feel like an orphan anymore.

jogging

In 2017 I was jogging in Muizenberg and ran past a homeless man near the road. I felt God telling me to walk back and help him. I took a U-turn and changed my plans to spend time with him. That day, I started to share stories about homeless people on social media so that others could look beyond their homelessness and see them as humans. I got into trouble a few times with my school for hanging out with them, but somehow I couldn’t help it. Their homelessness felt like my previous orphan state. I wanted more than anything else to be their friend.

Many homeless people live cheek by jowl with surfers and holidaymakers in the streets and mountain of Muizenberg. In 2017, Phinius was jogging in the area lived and ran past a homeless man. ‘I felt God telling me to walk back and help him,’ he says. This was the start of a full-blown ministry to the homeless in the area | Photo: Leentjie du Preez

Eventually I went into full-time work with U-turn Homeless Ministries, the City of Cape Town, and New Hope SA, all of which have an interest in helping people without a home. Most of my work takes place on the street building relationships, getting to know people’s names and stories, and discovering how I can help them. The better my relationship with them, the more I can direct them to places where they can deal with their trauma and addictions, find jobs and reconcile with their families.

Above and below: ‘Most of my work takes place on the street building relationships, getting to know people’s names and stories, and discovering how I can help them,’ says Phinius. ‘I’ve learnt never to judge people for the choices they make when I don’;t know the options they had to choose from’ | Photos: Leentjie du Preez

We partner with other organisations. I really like mobilising churches and communities. It’s important to address all five areas of being human: physical, emotional, mental, psychological and then spiritual, which is the foundation of everything. You’re not going to recover fully unless your healing is holistic.

During hard lockdown, 10 homeless ladies came to Muizenberg from a Covid quarantine camp. They’d become sober during lockdown and wanted to stay this way because they were seeing life in colour again. Together with others, I moved into the Church of the Holy Spirit in Kirstenhof and helped them rehabilitate. We reconnected some of the ladies with their families and helped them get temporary and voluntary jobs. Because of their addictions to drugs such as marijuana and tik [crystal meth] they did run away sometimes, but they came back to us and we kept on loving them.

Today, only two of the ladies are back on the street, the rest are with their families. Some live on social security grants and others have jobs. Some come to church and we hang with them. I believe that it’s the kindness of God that leads them to change. People can’t change without being loved first.

‘It doesn’t make sense if your neighbour has a need and you ignore it,’ says Phinius. During Covid lockdown, he and others moved into Church of the Holy Spirit to help shelter and rehabilitate 10 homeless ladies who’d become sober at a quarantine camp, and were determined to stay that way. Above: the ladies arrive at the church, each to find welcome packs with sweet treats, sanitisers, face masks, a hot water bottle and a dry, clean bed. Below: while living at the church they bake and cook for themselves and others, learn to knit, and are given a morale-boosting makeover! Today, only two of the ladies are back living on the street, says Phinius

I connect with some homeless guys by cutting their hair.  I’m keen to raise funds for a mobile shower to give them the chance to freshen up further, a change of clothes and counselling.

A haircut proves to be a point of connection. ‘We talk and pray while I cut hair,’ says Phinius. ‘Many people like this because they’re disconnected from their communities”

‘If my sleeping conditions are savage or my food is for animals, how can I feel human?’ asks Phinius. ‘I refuse to be okay with people living like this.’ He became extremely close to this homeless man, Rasta, who died in 2022 

A man sweeps the area around the tent that is his home. ‘I’m teaching the guys to care for the community, that they have something to give it,’ says Phinius | Photo: Leentjie du Preez

The greatest high in this work is seeing someone be restored to their family. That’s always my goal. But helping people on the street can be as simple as being their friend, helping them get an ID book or a bank card. They gain so much dignity when they see their name on something. At the end of the day, everyone’s just longing for acceptance.

Many women struggling with homelessness are victims of violence like my mom. I’ve discovered some are in abusive relationships with gang leaders who use fear and drugs to control them. In lockdown I set up an organisation called Rea Thusana, which means ‘We help each other’, aiming to restore the lives of marginalised people. In its first year, I helped five homeless women reconnect with their families and built relationships with some gang leaders who were threatening me. Now some of the guys on the street who tried to harm me are my bodyguards, so I don’t have enemies on the street, I have friends! At least nine men I’ve connected with have left gangsterism and found work. The only way is to love and serve the people who try to hurt you.

‘Many women struggling with homelessness are victims of violence like my mom,’ says Phinius

‘People can’t change without being loved first,’ says Phinius | Photo: Leentjie du Preez

The board of Rea Thusana has been raising funds for a house where marginalised people can live, be supported, counselled, rehabilitated and have their skills developed. Sometimes we get asked, ‘How do you do it? These people are hard’, and we smile and say, ‘How does water cut through a rock?’ Yep, persistence and consistency!

People often feel scared, helpless, embarrassed or overwhelmed when it comes to connecting with homeless people. I usually suggest they start by greeting people, finding out their names and stories. It’s not so much about giving people food, it’s about relationships. See the person, not just their needs. You could start by saying ‘Sawubona’ which means ‘I see you’. Love doesn’t just see your need, it asks your name.

“Love doesn’t just see your need, it asks your name,’ says Phinius. ‘At the end of the day, everyone’s just longing for acceptance’ | Photo: Leentjie du Preez

There are so many good times to be had with this work. I go to the street thinking I’m going to give but I end up recovering and finding joy. A couple of times I’ve gone to the streets not in a good space and the guys have bought me something to eat. Sometimes I ask them for a prayer or for five rands to show them that I’m also a human being who feels and who lacks, that I didn’t come here to ‘save’ them but to be human with them. They’re not a project, they’re my family.

‘People living on the streets aren’t a project, they’re my family,’ says Phinius. ‘There are so many good times to be had with this work’

The older I get, the more I grieve for my mom. My uncle told me to be a man and not cry when I was younger, but the more feelings I can process, the better, so that my pain doesn’t become my identity. The longer you hold on to your hurt, the worse it becomes. When you focus on the rocks in your life you’re just feeding your pain. We’re not supposed to carry it ourselves, it’s too exhausting.

we heal in community

It takes a lot of humility not to be a victim and to change your life around. I’ve learnt that we heal in community and by being vulnerable, not by hiding our emotions. I’ve also realised that pain in my own hands is just pain, but in God’s hands it can find a purpose. He has a plan for everything we go through but we have to talk about it to Him.

We’re all broken in some way. Even the disciples walking with Jesus were in rehab from their old lives. I was broken and broke and didn’t know anyone when I came to Cape Town, but I believe God helped me. He put the right people around me and loved me for who I am. I studied and travelled, and with me he birthed a new ministry for people on the street. I’ve even come to love my name, the name I share with the dad I never met. I’ve forgiven him. He may not have had a father who was present himself. I tell myself that I may not know him, but my own children will know me. So God has built out of pain.

It took me a while to learn it, but I’ve realised there’s a void inside of me that only God can fill. Following Jesus doesn’t mean I won’t have problems, but it does mean the problems won’t have me. I will go through deep water but I won’t drown. God never promised us a life without chaos, but He did promise us peace in the chaos. He never gives up on people.’

Phinius is often to be found on the mountainside of Muizenberg, where a number of homeless people live. ‘It takes a lot of humility not to be a victim and to change your life around. I’ve learnt that we heal in community and by being vulnerable, not by hiding our emotions.’ says Phinius. Personally, he says, ‘The more feelings I can process, the better, so that my pain doesn’t become my identity.’ 

Waterproof ‘shelterbags’ from Sheltersuit South Africa delivered by Phinius make things a bit easier for people living on the streets

‘Sometimes I ask the guys on the streets for a prayer or for five rands to show them that I’m also a human being who feels and who lacks, that I didn’t come here to ‘save’ them but to be human with them,’ says Phinius | Photo: Leentjie du Preez

Phinius and U-turn Homeless Ministries colleague Brandon celebrate the sobriety of the formerly homeless Quintin McLaughlin. ‘It’s important to address all five areas of being human: physical, emotional, mental, psychological and then spiritual, which is the foundation of everything,’ says Phinius. ‘You’re not going to recover fully unless your healing is holistic. I believe that it’s the kindness of God that leads homeless people to change’

‘There’s a void inside of me only God can fill,’ says Phinius. ‘Jesus never promised us a life without chaos, but He did promise us peace in the chaos. In His hands, pain can find a purpose. He has a plan for everything we go through, but we have to talk to Him about it’ | Photo: Leentjie du Preez