WHY FRANK AND WILMA LOVE THEIR LIVES

‘Frank and I love each other so much, it’s crazy,’ says Wilma Gie, reflecting on a life and marriage reclaimed. Six years ago, after multiple relapses, she and husband Frank finally broke free from addiction | Photo: Leentjie du Preez

‘I’m so full of gratitude,’ says Wilma | Photo: Leentjie du Preez

Wilma (52) is the second of three children of a financial manager father and teacher mother. She attended Hoërskool Alberton, has two sons, lives with her husband Frank in Cape Town’s Woodstock and works full-time doing admin for Freedom Church

I HAD A GREAT CHILDHOOD. There was always steadiness in our home and my parents are still married today. They took me to church and I was passionate about Jesus, but I was also rebellious and sneaked out of the house to go to clubs when very young. After school, I wanted to study art but my parents said there was no future in it. I moved to Pretoria to study marketing just to get out of the house, but hated it and never finished it.

‘I was very rebellious,’ says Wilma

I had a lot of sexual relationships and, trying to escape that lifestyle, I married a lovely man called Christoff when I was 20. We had two boys soon afterwards. But it was only really a friendship for me and, when we moved to Cape Town, I left him for someone who paid me a lot of attention. Despite this, he was very good to me and, though he got custody, he let me see the boys almost daily, help them with homework and put them to bed. When he remarried, I stepped back somewhat out of respect for his wife.

I started working in corporate admin and had a number of relationships, some of them destructive. After one break-up, encouraged by a friend, I took ecstasy. That broke the ice with drugs for me and I started taking them to have fun. One must understand that taking drugs makes you feel very nice when you begin. I said to myself, ‘I’m 34, my children are safe with their dad. I’ll only take drugs every now and again, I’m able to handle them.’

But they took my feet out from under me. For the next 10 years, everything just spiralled. It was a very dark time and I disappeared from my family for two years. Throughout everything, I knew God was there. It was sometimes hard to think about Him because I felt ashamed, but there was always a tinge of hope.

I only had occasional contact with my parents as I didn’t want them to know I was using. But in 2009, desperate, I asked them for help. Realising the extent of my problems, they organised a rehab for me. There, I caught a glimpse of Frank and said to myself, ‘Father God, if I can get married again, please make it someone like Frank.’  I hardly spoke to him because men and women weren’t allowed to mix, but when I got out of rehab 10 months later, we met up and married very quickly.

we relapsed

Unfortunately, after that, we relapsed and we went through nine more years of addiction together. We took all kinds of substances, including methamphetamine which gives you rage, and sometimes we almost killed each other. Mom tried to help us with a medical detox, when you’re basically kept unconscious through your withdrawals, but yet again we relapsed, causing chaos with the various jobs we had.

By 2013 we had nothing. We’d sold our car, spent all our money, we were on the streets. We hitched our way to Cape Town and slept in the park, then ended up living in an abandoned garage for five years. At times I fantasised about dying, believing it would be so much better. But, together, we started praying to God for some kind of deliverance from our situation. 

invited

To make money, I painted pictures that Frank sold door to door. One day, he sold a painting to a guy called Kevin who was part of a church in Woodstock and invited us to one of its groups. Kevin told us later that he felt a specific prompting from God to do this.

We went, and were so loved by the people there. We looked at each other and said, okay, we need to be honest with these people, and told them we were addicts. Looking back, I don’t think they were surprised, even though Frank and I believed no-one realised!

Throwback: Kevin (left) and his wife Naomi with Frank and Wilma outside the garage in which they were living, shortly after Kevin invited the couple to a church group. ‘We were so loved by the people there,’ says Wilma

The church was called Freedom Church. We got to know and love the people there, and they got to know us. After a few months, the leaders started fundraising for us to go to rehab. We were excited, but drug use had programmed me to need instant solutions to problems and, while I waited for rehab, despair got hold of me. I saw a train coming along the railway line near where we lived and I thought, ‘I can’t anymore’. I ran towards it and Frank literally had to rugby tackle me to stop me.

While the church was fundraising to fund rehab for Frank and Wilma, she became so desperate about her addiction that she tried to throw herself under a train

Finally, in 2019, there was enough money for rehab. We were very excited. This time it was so different from before. We really, really wanted to stop and we also knew that if we didn’t surrender 100% to the process and to God, we were heading towards organ failure and death. The whole church community gathered around us and loved us, prayed for us, fasted for us and specifically prayed for deliverance from our cravings.

After a week’s detox, we did five weeks of rehab. Withdrawal was very hard but, believe it or not, when we came out we had no cravings, just as our church had prayed. It’s hard to believe, but not even Frank had them after 20 years on heroin. Today if I just smell drugs I get really nauseous and can only remember the horrible side of them. If I get anxious, I focus on positive things like my work and Jesus.

I work full-time at Freedom Church, doing book-keeping and admin, and Frank and I both volunteer in children’s leadership there. I’ve got Pastor Josh, the most amazing cheerleader, as a boss. There’s not one thing in my job that I don’t love doing, and I’m even getting paid for it!

grace

To prevent being triggered, we don’t drink alcohol or even take certain medications. We’ve aged fast because we put our bodies through a lot of trauma: drugs can keep you awake for days, which is very bad for you. Our teeth are shot. We’ve both had hepatitis C but, luckily, we don’t have any long-term liver damage. It’s really by the grace of God that we’re still alive. I honestly believe His hand was over us, even preventing my boys from living in a house with an addict parent. That is an absolute blessing in disguise.

A couple at our church, Luke and Jasmina, decided to do something about Cape Town’s poverty and substance abuse problem. They set up the Quiver Foundation which, among other things, will mentor people to a sustainable life after addiction, and they asked us to get involved. The foundation was gifted a building in Woodstock which will house 10 people at a time until they’re properly reintegrated into society.

Frank already works at Quiver, getting the property ready for use, and we’ll both live there as parent figures. Our past will help us help people: when I tell someone I was a heroin addict and show them my battle scars, they usually open up. We’re not professionals but we can walk the journey with you and refer you to where you need to go. If you choose a wrong door, we’ll still go through it with you and continue loving you with the love God has poured out into our hearts, even as you experience the unwelcome consequences.

Above, the Quiver Foundation building, currently being adapted to house people coming out of rehab. ‘The core of the home will be love, family and responsibility,’ says Wilma. Below, Quiver’s co-founder Luke on a quick break from the renovations | Photos: Leentjie du Preez

We’re both reconciled to a large extent with our families, which is enormous. My family is such a joy to me. I love seeing my parents and having meaningful conversations with them, and I’ve apologised deeply to my boys who are now 31 and 27. Reconciliation is still an ongoing journey with my elder son, who was traumatised when I disappeared for those two years. This is really sad. All I can do is show him I really have changed, not through my words, which were not reliable in the past, but by the fruit I bear now and in the future.

Seven years ago, no-one would even have given me their wallet to look after. Now church elders trust us to babysit their children! My marriage now is just amazing, Frank and I love each other so much, it’s crazy. I’m not without some big regrets. It saddens me so much that I wasn’t there for my boys and missed out on so many milestones in their lives. I also regret that I didn’t get into a relationship with God sooner. Nonetheless, today I say, ‘Thank you, Lord.’ I’m so full of gratitude and excited about the future.”

Frank (51) grew up in George and attended York High School. His parents divorced when he was young and he was brought up by his dad, a steel merchant manager, and his step-mom, a school secretary

My dad and stepmom had a good marriage and Dad did his best, but I think I felt a bit of abandonment and worthlessness because I only met my biological mom, who had a history of alcohol and multiple marriages, when I was 24, and our relationship didn’t really develop from there.

I had various girlfriends in high school but if they ended things with me, my whole world would fall in and I’d feel worthless and not good enough all over again. Once I left school I started drinking heavily and using cannabis, and slowly started experimenting with party drugs. I wasn’t doing it to feel good, rather I was in self-destruct mode. I studied electrical engineering at Cape Technikon for a year but dropped out due to partying.

For 12 years I went on a long journey with cannabis and party drugs even while I worked in jobs ranging from the military to the casino business to an import-export business my dad managed. So most of my adult life is hazy. I got involved with the occult and New Age things, and poisoned my body completely as a full-blown tik and heroin addict.

Young Frank, who got Springbok colours for scouting and played rugby for his school. Nonetheless, at times he had feelings of worthlessness and abandonment. ‘I think I carried some kind of yearning for intimacy on a subconscious level,’ he says

My parents were suspicious that I was on something but couldn’t put their finger on it. I wore long sleeves to hide my track marks and even started stealing from Dad’s business to support my habit by doing deals under the table.

Once I started on injectable drugs such as heroin, I couldn’t maintain a normal life. By 2008 I was living on the streets in George. I’d grown up without much exposure to the Bible but somehow I had a sense of God. One day I met some Christian evangelists on the streets who prayed for me and told me about a rehab on a farm. One of them actually withdrew all the money in his account and drove me there.

forgiveness

Once there, I underwent a three-day withdrawal from drugs. It was very difficult physically but I actually felt the touch of God and His forgiveness of the life I’d been living. It was really the first time in my life I’d encountered Jesus. However, I relapsed a week after coming out. I don’t think I was totally willing to change yet.

A year later, at a second rehab, I prayed for a wife: quite a bold prayer as any responsibility was a big thing for me. And then I saw Wilma. It was weird, I told my friend that I felt I knew her, even though I’d never seen her before. When we got together after rehab, I asked Wilma’s dad and both her sons for her hand in marriage. I think her parents were freaked out and sceptical, given my past, but they came around.

‘I prayed for a wife: quite a bold prayer as any responsibility was a big thing for me. And then I saw Wilma,’ says Frank | Leentjie du Preez

The wedding was fantastic, but really we didn’t know each other from a bar of soap. We relapsed not long after it and ended up being expelled from where we were staying. Somehow, though, we still knew we were meant to be.

After five years living in that garage in Cape Town, we realised we were completely broken and had nothing else but Jesus. We started crying out to Him, listened to CCFM Radio, read the Bible, worshipped, painted scriptures on the walls and told our dealers, ‘Watch this space. Jesus is going to deliver us.’ We didn’t know what the plan for our life was but, together, we clung to Father [God].

respect

When Kevin invited us to Freedom Church, something just clicked in me. As we parted ways, I just knew that this was Father’s hand. I got back that night and told Wilma, ‘This is it. Father’s going to move. He’s going to move!’ And that was the end of it. We went to the church gathering and they were so loving to us. I knew Kevin had been in the British military, which I’d always respected, then I saw an SAS emblem on a champagne bottle in his house. I’d never submitted to anybody, but I think Father placed a man in my life who I could respect.

We journeyed 10 months with the church. It was very difficult because we were physically broken and at the end of ourselves, but we really trusted God and were rooted in the church. We went to every event, every prayer session, every group. Sometimes we were so high we couldn’t even hold a conversation, but the church just showed us love for who we were. They didn’t agree with what we were doing, but they still loved us. They organised the fundraiser, the paperwork, the social worker, the doctor. Every now and again they would take our filthy clothes and wash them and get us some groceries. And they encouraged and prayed with us.

responsibility

Finally, rehab was in sight. We had to do an opioid detox first, which was the most difficult. Withdrawing from heroin is like this: take the worst flu you’ve ever had — body aches, diarrhoea, stomach cramps, fever — and multiply that by a thousand. We had nurses and medication to help us but it was still hectic. Psychologically, the staff challenged us to take ownership of our situation and responsibility for our actions, to forget the past and only consider where we were at right then.

It was all voluntary, no one locked us in. I didn’t sleep for about two weeks but we both got through it. When we stepped out of rehab, the blues were bluer, the greens were greener, we were sober, we were clean, our eyes were open and life was just totally different. It was so great and we somehow knew that we had been delivered from heroin and meth addiction not just physically but spiritually.

When you’re on the streets, you develop a hard heart because of the violence and crime you see and get involved with. But, today, God has softened my heart incredibly. I never used to be a hugger, now it’s second nature. Father has revealed to me that it’s not good to push your emotions down, you must deal with them. Today when I feel concerns, I give them to Jesus because he’s the one who took us out of the pits. I was on heroin for 20 years and drugs for 30 years, so if I can trust him to deliver me from that darkness, how much more will he be able to do in my life?

‘I never used to be a hugger. God has softened my heart incredibly and has revealed that it’s not good to push your emotions down, you must deal with them,’ says Frank, here greeting homeless friends with Wilma | Leentjie du Preez

At Quiver, we’ll be rehabilitation mentors and co-ordinators, taking people on the same journey of recovery that we travelled. Basically, our lives are the blueprint. Just as we were challenged and loved, so we want to challenge the people that come to us, and to be there for them. Some of these guys don’t even know what love is. We want to let them know, ‘It’s going to be okay. We’re with you.’

It’s wonderful to be back in contact with my parents. Last week I sent my dad a message thanking him for always standing by me. It took my stepmom a little longer because of all the pain she went through when I broke her trust. When an addict rehabilitates, their family members also need time to heal and rehabilitate. But she visited us this Sunday and it was great that she could see where we’re at, what we’re doing for church and for Quiver.

At times I thought there was no way I could reconcile with my parents because of what I’ve done, but Father is a God of reconciliation. Addicts will always promise that things won’t happen again, so we don’t promise those we love anything. We just say, watch our lifestyle and see if it bears the fruit of God’s Holy Spirit.

Even though I first felt Father’s touch in 2007, it was only in 2019 that He set me free from heroin and meth. I believe previous rehabs didn’t work because, while it was in my mind to change, I hadn’t truly surrendered my heart to Him. To anyone addicted, I would say Jesus is bigger than addiction, anxiety and depression. Don’t give up, there’s a better life out there.

I was always loved by my parents but together we have come to understand that the love of God is even vaster than theirs. I thought I was going to die an addict. If Father can move in my life, He can move in anybody’s!’’

Above, Wilma chats to a man living in the park near Quiver Foundation. Below, the couple enjoy a laugh together. ‘One of my greatest joys is my marriage, and another is being rooted to our calling,’ says Frank. ‘I thought I was going to die an addict, but now there are some very, very exciting things lying ahead’ | Photos: Leentjie du Preez

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