Zuze used to come to our gate at least twice a week without fail. He would pick a small rock in the dirt and bang our black solid mental security gate seven times before making himself comfortable in one of the flowers beds that lined our "durawall".  The fate of the full bloomed orange and yellow marigold flowers  that he sat on was inevitable, but we never complained, rather the smell of the flowers on Zuze than the pungent stench that followed him everywhere. His eyes would stay glued on our black gate as he waited patiently. There was no need for him to repeat the banging of the gate, he knew someone would always appear with his large plate of pap, soup and a cup of water. No-one knew his real name, where he came from or how he survived the winters sleeping in the street. The most popular rumour was that Zuze was be-witched as a small child and his family had resorted to chaining him to a tree to keep him safe even from himself. My mother did not care much for such rumours and instructed us to never turn Zuze away with an empty stomach. Looking back, I realize Zuze was suffering from a mental illness which might have been managed better by medication. We have not seen Zuze for the last 5 years and we always wonder what happened to him? We still keep some extra food just in case ... Maybe we should have taken him to a hospital? Maybe with some medications he would have lived a normal live? So many maybes!  

How many Zuzes do you know? If doctors/researchers could use genomics to test an unborn child's chances of being born with a mental illness do you think the parents should be told? Share your thoughts in the "Have Your Say Section". 

Written by Vicky Nembaware