Perspective

I was stood there in disbelief and close to tears. Never had I imagined the brutality that this world could offer. Not only was it what I was seeing that rendered me speechless but how it was being dealt with.

Before I go any further, allow me to provide a brief background. My name is Will Michell and I have lived a moderately privileged life. Born in Birmingham, UK to a doctor and a nurse, there were never any financial worries. As a child you don't really pay attention to that sort of stuff and you become accustomed to not checking prices of food, enjoying regular meals out at restaurants, and living in safe areas.

When I was seven years old, my parents moved to Cornwall, along with my elder brother and me. Growing up in Cornwall led my brother and me to pursue rugby. Every Sunday morning, our parents would watch us play in the freezing cold and the rain and cheer us on. Rugby became a love of mine, and I played it throughout secondary school.

I was very fortunate to be put through a private school. I was not very academic, despite my parents being in the medical industry and my brother being clever, I still, was not. I realised this, and instead of putting my efforts into my subjects, I put it all into sports. It turns out that I wasn't very good at sports either, despite my love for playing them. I never made the "A" team at school rugby, but I was a regular starter for the "B" team.

After playing rugby for nine years, I was given the opportunity to go on the schools annual rugby tour to South Africa. This was an amazing opportunity that my parents encouraged me to part-take in. So I did. After a few months of preparation and endless training sessions, the day finally came. Off we set on a 12-hour flight from London Heathrow to Johannesburg.

During the prepping stages, we were constantly reminded to stick together and keep our belongings on us at all times. Johannesburg seemed to be notorious for pickpocketing.

During this tour, we either flew or travelled in a hot and stuffy coach along the coast of South Africa. We had rugby matches against other schools and stayed with a few of the players afterwards to get a feel of South African culture. The culture seemed the same, despite travelling all the way up the coast. Big houses, nice cars, and gated communities. This was the side of South Africa we were seeing. That is, until the final game.

We arrived in Cape Town by coach and took cable cars up to Table Top Mountain. Unfortunately, there was a huge layer of mist around the top and we were unable to see anything other than white cloud. After getting back down from the mountain, it was time to play our next match. We rode the coach to the destination, and as we were getting closer, the gated communities and big houses started to become fewer and fewer. Taking their place were what looked like shacks made out of sheets of scrap metal and other "rubbish" that may have been lying around. What we were seeing were called Townships.

These townships were situated right on the edge of busy roads, children were sitting lifeless on the dusty tracks surrounded by empty bottles, broken glass, and human waste. We all assumed that we were playing another private school somewhere out in the countryside. We weren't.

Eventually we turned into one of the townships and drove through streets lined with make-shift shacks and broken down cars with doors, wing mirrors, and even windshields missing. When the bus finally stopped we were faced with an old dusty rectangle of grass with faint markings that somewhat resembled a rugby pitch. Suddenly out of the surrounding shacks came about 40 or 50 children amazed by the coach; they were chanting and cheering and looked so happy. Suddenly seeing the little that they had made me appreciate the coach a lot more — despite it not having any form of cooling mechanism.

We stepped out onto the dusty ground. It was littered with needles, broken glass, cigarette butts, and even bullet shells. It was heartbreaking to see how little these people had; a small, dark shack was what they called home, and in the way of possessions, they had none. But they were happy, they were dancing, and singing. The way they dealt with this cruel hand they were dealt was truly inspiring.

We were led into the changing rooms, which were in fact just squares of orange chicken fencing. We got ready to play, and as we were about to walk onto the pitch, what seemed like the whole township had made a tunnel for us to walk down. As we walked through the tunnel, they were singing, chanting, and clapping. The sound filled me with emotion, a mixture between proudness, inspiration, and sadness. It made me proud that I was there in Africa learning of other cultures. I was inspired by the people's ability to cope with what they were given, and yet I was saddened to learn that there were people living in luxury housing with all the food and water they could want just miles up the road from these desperately in need people.

After the match, we spent a few hours socialising with this beautiful community. As it was the last day of our trip before our long-haul flight back to England early the next morning, we decided to give out some of our kit to them.

I was quite small at the time, and I made my way over to a boy who seemed a few years younger than me. I handed him two shirts, a pair of shorts, socks, and my rugby boots. As I gave him these possessions which didn't hold much importance to me, his eyes filled with tears, and he gave me the warmest embrace I think I will ever have.

From that day onwards, I have tried not to take what I have for granted. At times I forget these things and when I become frustrated with technology, or worried about not having enough money, I stop and think about those families and how little they had, and suddenly my problems don't seem so important anymore. That visit changed my life. I am so grateful for meeting those people, yet I feel saddened knowing that most of them are still there and still struggling today.

Please follow the link and donate anything you can to the African charities. They can make such a difference in the community.