Edith Pilane and her late mother Seipati Janet Pilane

MY ONLY PRINCESS

Edith Pilane was at work when her phone rang. It was her daughter Palesa. She was distraught. ‘Mommy, they say granny is not here. They have moved her. There are no patients here any longer and the security guard won’t let me in. He says he doesn’t know where everyone has been taken to.’

This is how Edith PIlane discovered that her mother, Seipati Janet Pilane, had been moved from the Life Esidimeni facility in Randfontein. Seipati had been diagnosed with dementia and bipolar disorder, and needed full-time supervision and care. She had lived at Life Esidimeni Randfontein since 2013.

Edith and her children visited Seipati every month. They took her home-cooked food, snacks and fruit, but on that terrible day, Edith was busy at work and so her daughter had gone to visit her grandmother alone.

So began Edith’s two-week search for her mother. The next day she went to Cullinan Care and Rehabilitation Centre but her mother wasn’t there. They told her to try Sterkfontein, but she wasn’t there either. Westkoppies and Takalani Home were next, but she still couldn’t find her mom.

She called other NGOs but the phones just rang. ‘Finally, I was told my mom had been transferred to Precious Angels in Atteridgeville. I was given the number of Ethel Ncube, and she confirmed that my mom was there.

It took three taxis to get to Atteridgeville. When Edith and Palesa arrived at Precious Angels, the first thing they noticed was how filthy the house was. ‘They didn’t want to bring my mother to me. I was angry and told them to bring her right away.’

One of the helpers brought my mother in a wheelchair. I could not believe it was her. Palesa burst into tears when she saw her granny. Seipati was wearing a man’s golf t-shirt and no socks. She looked cold. She was very thin with sores around her mouth. She couldn’t eat the food they had brought her. And she couldn’t see. She had become blind.

Edith asked Ethel if she could please bath her mother. She had brought her toiletries, new clothes, slippers and a warm gown. Ethel refused.

Edith did not have the money to employ a fulltime carer, but she told Ethel that she would return to take her mum home as soon as she had organised a wheelchair for her.

‘I called the following day to find out how my mother was doing,’ Edith says. ‘But Ethel’s phone just rang. Thursday I tried again. Nothing.’

On Saturday, 23 July 2016, my son Karabo received a call from Ethel. She hold him his grandmother had died.

‘I was very close to my mother,’ Edith recalls. ‘I was an only child and she called me “her only princess”.’

The death certificate lists Seipati’s death as ‘natural causes’. ‘But I saw how my mother was near the end. She died in a terrible way. When will this terrible pain end. We need justice.’