By Ashley Green-Thompson
Katherine Regina van der Bijl came from Nqeleni in the former Transkei and became a nurse. It was at Frere Hospital in East London that she encountered Hugh James Green-Thompson. She probably regarded his romantic approaches with some scepticism. For one, he was ten years older than she was, and she thought he must have a wife at home in Natal. She wasn’t the type to be well-disposed to being isithembu, or second wife. Still, she married him, and they settled in Vryheid in the north of what was then Natal, 100km from his birthplace of Ingogo.
Here they ran a medical practice for over 30 years, and for most of that time Hugh was the only black doctor in town. A thriving practice, you’d have thought luxury defined their lives, but each time the cost of medicine went up, Hugh reduced his consulting fee. He would respond to Katherine’s complaints about tight finances by asking if she or her kids ever went hungry. And they had many kids, adding four foster children to their biological five.
They ran clinics in the surrounding rural and peri-urban areas of Mondlo, Haladu, and Blood River. Hugh played an active role in the fight for formal housing for Vryheid’s coloured community. When she wasn’t helping Hugh keep the practice going (he wasn’t the greatest businessman), Katherine was very active in the Catholic Church, and through the St Vincent de Paul Society was always at the forefront of ministry to poor households. They heeded Kipling’s exhortation to “walk with kings (and not) lose the common touch”. And they believed freedom would come. When the mostly white members of the Catholic Women’s League suggested knitting for the SADF boys on the border, Katherine said she would knit
for the freedom fighters on the other side.
The people of KwaZulu Natal and beyond came out in their thousands to pay their respects at Hugh’s funeral in 1990, a few days after Mandela walked free. Katherine reached a good age of 84 before joining her chap in 2016.
All of us encounter remarkable people who shape our lives, who represent strong values that our world desperately needs right now. Hugh and Katherine recognised fundamentally the inherent dignity of people, regardless of class, race, religion, or gender. They instilled those values by living them (although Katherine was known to be quick with the slipper to reinforce desired behaviour). Those around them learnt by watching how these two walked this earth, how they didn’t need the high-profile political act to deeply express their solidarity with those who were struggling to defend their own humanity.
We must tell the stories of those who contributed to building a better society away from the headlines. We have to tell those stories so that our kids and future generations don’t only see the famous activists as heroes, and how that heroism has been an excuse for so many to join the corrupt elite. Telling the stories of these unsung heroes allows us to celebrate the honesty and integrity that defined so many people in our immediate circles – the parents, aunts, uncles, and neighbours whose contribution to humanity is not documented.
In doing this we can challenge our learnt scepticism about our leaders. How often do we dismiss all political leaders as compromised, corrupt, venal? We have role models to celebrate, and to help us not give in to the scepticism that takes away our own agency to effect change. I am forever grateful to my parents Hugh and Katherine for helping me claim my agency. Let us tell the stories of those who made the path before us.
Green-Thompson runs an organisation that supports social justice action in the region