The late Helen Suzman was famous as a politician for visiting areas where people suffered under the brute hand of apartheid.

"Go see for yourself" was her motto, which I have also tried to live up to. There is really no substitute for a visit that includes fact-checking and speaking directly to all the parties involved.

So it was that I visited an informal settlement in eastern Johannesburg, just two blocks away from busy Jules street. Fifty six shacks in a courtyard had burnt down because of a fire started by a tipped paraffin stove.

Fortunately, no lives were lost, but about 250 people had lost everything they had, which wasn't much in the first place. I spoke to an elderly man who said he had been there since 1980.

He cried on my shoulder, and I could easily have cried with him but I held back, which I regretted later. I felt utterly inadequate to help these people.

Johannesburg disaster management dropped off some blankets and food, but that was it. I went back two days later. The ash had largely been swept away and partial structures had been built.

I admired the resilience of these people, but there was a long way to go. They said they were short of building material. What they had was scrounged from scrap yards.

They also needed more blankets, food and clothes. A special plea was food for the children. I was told they wanted cream of maize, so I searched in a nearby supermarket for packets of something I had never heard of before.

Many had lost their identity documents, which are not at all easy to replace if you are penniless. Even transport to an Home Affairs office to stand in a long queue is a problem. I can't really explain it, but I felt the need to somehow show that I was with them in their distress.

I am what the apartheid regime classified as "white" although that has never been my own perceived identity. But I did benefit from apartheid policies that privileged me at the expense of black people in this country.

Perhaps as a white person sharing their plight I could give some comfort and heal the divisions of race. So that night I stayed with the old man and his four sons in their partially rebuilt shack.

It was no shelter at all from the elements as there was no roof. There was an open wood fire, but it wasn't very warm and its smell assaulted my nostrils.

I thought how unhealthy this was to the lungs, especially of children. It was very cold, even in a sleeping bag, so I didn't sleep much at all. Cellphone alarms went off as early as 4 am. Where did they get the electricity to charge them?

If this was where I lived every day I would be a lot less effective at any job that I would be doing. After my night in the open I made a public appeal for help, and donations have flowed in.

It all helps, but these people will continue to be forgotten and have to rely on their own energy and survival skills. You won't find them demonstrating or making any public fuss about their condition. They are too busy keeping body and soul together day by day.

It must not be that "out of sight is out of mind" - they are deserving human beings like the rest of us. I have decided that every month I will spend an evening with a forgotten community. Maybe it will not achieve much, but I feel it is the right thing to do.

I am sure, though, that it will enrich my understanding of those who have nothing except the will to endure despite everything. My new motto is "Go experience for yourself".

Jack Bloom MPL, is DA Leader in the Gauteng Legislature. This article first appeared in The Sowetan.

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