by Christine Shaw | May 6, 2026 | Stories of Hope
*Jordan’s journey is a reminder that not every social work story ends in crisis. Some take time, persistence, and the right support, but they can lead to hope.
Several years ago, Jordan and his younger sister were removed from their mother’s care and placed in foster care. While his sister remained in a stable placement, Jordan’s path was more complex. After his first placement broke down, he spent time in a children’s home before moving to a second foster family.
This new placement brought opportunity, but it also revealed the depth of his trauma. Jordan struggled to adjust. Instead of his strengths being recognised – his intelligence and strong performance at school – the focus shifted to his behaviour.
He was frequently told that if he didn’t comply, he would be sent away or reported. Over time, he began to believe that everything going wrong around him was his fault.
This is not uncommon. Children who experience instability or prolonged stress often internalise blame. Research shows that when children lack consistent, reassuring relationships, they may assume responsibility for circumstances beyond their control. This can shape their self-worth, relationships, and behaviour for years to come.
At the same time, another story was unfolding.
Jordan’s father had spent six years trying to locate his children and re-establish contact. Living in another province, he eventually moved to Pretoria in the hope of being closer to them. Despite repeated attempts to arrange visits, communication with the children’s mother remained inconsistent. He was often told they were unavailable, away with friends, or staying over elsewhere, when in reality, they had already been removed from her care.
This reflects a lesser-discussed but deeply harmful dynamic: when a child’s relationship with one parent is disrupted or obstructed, whether intentionally or through breakdowns in communication. Even without clear intent, the result can resemble parental alienation – where a child grows up disconnected from a parent who is willing and able to be present. The emotional consequences of parental alienation can be significant. It often leads to depression, anxiety, low self-image, and the inability to build meaningful relationships as adults.
Toward the end of 2025, the father’s persistence began to pay off. With the support of the social workers of CMR Gauteng East, a reunification process was initiated. Services were put in place to support him, while careful planning ensured that Jordan’s needs remained central.
When the second foster placement broke down, it created both urgency and possibility.
Jordan expressed a clear desire to be reunited with his father. With the right preparation and support, that reunification became a reality.
On a quiet Friday morning, after years apart, father and son embraced again. Overwhelmed, relieved, and ready to begin anew.
Jordan’s story does not end here. Reunification is not a finish line, but the start of a new chapter. One that requires patience, consistency, and ongoing support.
But it is a powerful reminder that even in complex cases, after years of uncertainty, positive outcomes are possible.
Hope may take time, but it is always worth working toward.
(Name changed.)
by Christine Shaw | May 6, 2026 | Stories of Hope
She holds the baby tight against her chest, longer than she can afford.
The morning air is cold. The brokenness inside her threatens to undo her. It feels as if it’s urging her to choose. Now or never.
The baby stirs softly, making a tiny sound, almost as if asking something. She closes her eyes, presses her cheek to the baby’s forehead. Something in her wants to remember that warm, soft feeling.
“I’m so sorry,” she whispers.
She wraps the blanket tighter around the small body. The house she chose is near the police station. Close enough, she hopes, for someone to reach her quickly. Someone who can give what she cannot.
Gently, she places the baby by the gate. Not because she doesn’t love her. But, because she does. Before she can change her mind, she walks away. Sometimes abandonment isn’t indifference. It’s desperation.
Elizabeth is late for work. She opens the gate, lost in thought, and then sees the bundle. At first, she thinks she’s imagining it. But it moves. There’s a sound.
She can’t believe her eyes. She drops her bag and kneels, pulling back the blanket. A baby girl blinked up at her, her cry faint but insistent. Everything around her seems to slow down.
With the baby in her arms, she rushes to the police station. The officer on duty doesn’t fully know the procedures. He only knows the baby must be safe. He takes her to a registered place of safety. When asked for the baby’s name, he hesitates, then says softly: *Tsholofelo. It means hope. Expectation.
A week later, the case is logged at one of CMR Gauteng-East’s offices.
The social worker realizes it will be a long process. Paperwork is missing. Steps have been skipped. She begins immediately. Forms, court orders, efforts to track the biological parents, and finding screened and approved adoptive parents. None is available on record.
Another organisation is contacted. They have a childless couple, already screened, and long waiting.
They do not hesitate.
The first meeting is gentle. Tsholofelo looked up with wide eyes, trying to figure them out. The woman held her softly. The man stayed close, speaking calmly.
It does not happen overnight. But it is a beginning.
Regular visits follow. Something starts to grow. Trust, recognition… a sense of belonging.
Tsholofelo is now nearly one year old, still in the place of safety. The paperwork is not complete. Court processes take time.
But she is no longer alone.
There are people who wait for her. With her. Who are learning her laugh, her small hands, the way she reaches out.
Tsholofelo’s story did not begin easily. With pain, uncertainty, and delays.
But it goes on, as her name promises: with hope. With expectation.
With the right support, the right people walking each step with her, there is a good chance that her first birthday, Tsholofelo will not only be safe…but home.
*Name changed
by Christine Shaw | Apr 21, 2026 | Stories of Hope
We all need to belong. Connection is not a luxury. It is a fundamental human need. True belonging does not require us to change who we are but makes room for us to be ourselves.
For children removed from their families and placed in alternative care, belonging can feel especially fragile. They focus on fitting in. On surviving.
When the new social worker first met Jake* at the Children’s court, he stood quietly beside a caregiver. Careful not to draw too much attention. Children who move from place to place often learn to adapt quickly. They read the room. They adjust. Around Jake, adults held thick files filled with reports, concerns, and opinions. Before opening his file, the social worker greeted him in his home language. Jake looked up, surprised, and almost seemed to relax a bit.
Inside the courtroom, the children’s home described their difficulty in supporting him. The foster parent told how she couldn’t manage another day. When the magistrate eventually asked Jake why he thought this was happening, he said softly: “Sometimes I do things, and afterward, I don’t know why.”
When belonging feels uncertain, behaviour becomes its language. What looks like defiance is often a question: “Do I still have a place? If you see my hardest parts, will you still choose me?”
In the days that followed, calls were made and options explored. Some had no space. Others were not willing to make space. Each “no” reinforced what Jake feared – “Maybe I am too much. Maybe I do not fit anywhere.”
The social worker persisted. She returned to court again and again, searching for more than a temporary solution. Her steady presence carried a simple message: You matter.
Eventually, she reached the boy’s biological mother. Years earlier, Jake had been removed from her care due to instability. She had remained in contact but had not realised how much Jake was struggling. In the meantime, she had rebuilt her life in another province. A new marriage, a young daughter, greater stability.
The conversation began cautiously and slowly opened up. She was told how, with every move to a new placement, Jake had asked for his mother. Although reunification remains a core focus of social workers, such conversations do not always lead to it. Sometimes circumstances change. Sometimes people grow. Sometimes support can be built around a family to support them when reunification is possible.
There was regret in her voice, but also determination. The next day, the social worker received a WhatsApp message with a screenshot of a plane ticket.
On Monday morning, Jake stood outside the courthouse holding his mother’s hand. He leaned slightly toward her. With the Children’s Court’s guidance and coordinated support, he left with her that day. A school was ready to receive him. A uniform was waiting.
Although finding a place to belong does not make problems disappear overnight, there is still work ahead. Counselling will continue. There will likely be adjustments and difficult conversations ahead. The social worker continues to follow up and will make referrals where necessary. Belonging, however, is the foundation on which healing can grow. It fosters a safe environment where trust can gradually grow, and through genuine acceptance, even wounded hearts can start to believe in hope once more.
*Name changed
by CMR@dmin | Feb 3, 2022 | Stories of Hope
*Kobus is 15 jaar oud en ‘n hoërskoolleerder. Hy is onlangs in ‘n rehabilitasiesentrum vir ‘n dwelmafhanklikheidsprobleem opgeneem.
Ani Grobbelaar, maatskaplike werker van CMR Gauteng-Oos se Lyttleton-tak, is dankbaar dat sy vir hom ‘n plek in ‘n sentrum kon kry. Sy stap ‘n pad saam met *Kobus, wat werklik wil omdraai en sy afhanklikheid die rug wil toekeer.
“Hierdie seun verdien nog ‘n kans. Hy het in die verkeerde vriendekring beland. Dinge by sy ouerhuis is ook nie gunstig nie. Hy woon saam met sy tannie en albei sy ouers is in ‘n motorongeluk oorlede. Ledigheid is die duiwel se oorkussing, het die ou mense altyd gesê en ons sien dit elke dag in ons werk. Kinders wat nie besig is nie, soek Vermaak. Om op straat rond te loop met niks om te doen nie, is moeilikheid soek. *Kobus het, omdat sy tannie bedags by die werk is, saam met die verkeerde vriende begin leeglê” sê Grobbelaar.
*Kobus is een van baie min verstands wat die moed het om op te staan, hulp te soek om skoon te kom en sy lewe sonder dwelms oor te begin. Grobbelaar verduidelik dat dwelms geredelik by skole te kry is. Die kind wat *Kobus se eerste pila an hom verskaf het, en hom aangemoedig het om dit te probeer, is ‘n verskaffer en maar net een van baie wat al in plaaslike skole sake doen.
“Dit is ‘n bekende feit dat solank iemand weier om te erken da thy ‘n probleem het, niemand hom sal kan help nie. Maar wanneer hy, soos *Kobus, daardie plek bereik en om hulp vra, is die kanse goed dat hy sal kan omdraa en suksesvol sal wees. Kobus sal kan teruggaan skool toe, en ‘n nuwe blaadjie omslaan.”
Die uitdaging is nog glad nie verby nie. Hy sal moet sterk staan teen die vriende wat hom in die gemost laat beland het – hulle is nog daar en hul dwelmgebruik duur voort.
*Kobus het my vertel dat dagga so algemeen is dat min kinders hulle eintlik daar steur. Iemand wat sou dink om dit nie te gebruik nie, word uitgelag en vertel hy weet nie dat dit heeltemal veilig is en dat ‘n mens nie aan dagga verslaaf kan raak nie. Kinders glo dit en so waag baie van hulle maklik die eerste stap na algehele dwelmverslawing. Hy het self eers dagga begin gebruik, en later ander pille se bedwelming leer ken.
“Ons verleen ondersteuning aan Kobus vir so lank as wat hy dit nodig het. CMR Gauteng-Oos lewer statutêre dienste aan kinders tot op 18-jarige ouderdom, in ooreenstemming met die Kinderwet no.38 van 2005.”
Henda van der Merwe, direkteur van CMR Gauteng-Oos, benadruk die feit dat dit nie net een skool se uitdaging is nie, maar alle skole s’n.
“Om kinders te help om nie in die gat t eval nie, is almal se verantwoordelikheid. Ouers moet deel word van die stryd. Weet waarmee jou kind besig is. Onderwysers, beraders, sielkundiges, maatskaplike werkers, almal moet hande vat en keer dat ons kinders in hierdie strik gevang word,” sê sy.
CMR Gauteng-Oos het 13 takkantore oor die hele Pretoria heen, en bedien altesaam 27 000 mense per jaar met maatskaplike ondersteuning.
*’n Skuilnaam is gebruik omdat die seun ‘n minderjarige is en nie geidentifiseer mag word nie.
by CMR@dmin | Jan 24, 2022 | Stories of Hope
This office have children covered with dark clouds when their biological mother passed away. They were left with no one to care for and look after them as their biological father was someone who had mental health challenges.
CMR Zithobeni intervened and placed the children into a CYCC (Child and youth care centre)already in 2012 seeing that the children needed care and protection. By that time there was no one in the family willing to care for and protect the children.
During their stay at the CYCC, the children had no place to visit during the school holidays. The CMR Zithobeni Social worker tracked down the maternal aunt of the children and she explained that children need to know their family and origin as they should not stay in the CYCC forever. Reunification services were rendered to the children and the maternal aunt. The children started to visit their aunt during the school holidays. They created a great bond as a family. And after two years of rendering reunification services to the children and their aunt, the children were officially reunited with their maternal aunt. The children were placed in the CYCC for full 8 years. And filled with joy and excitement.
This story gives us hope that when we render reunification services, children who are orphans get a chance to know their family of origin. Some may be reunited some may not, but through rendering reunification services children know their family origin when they grow up.
Being a social worker, we’re not in it for the income but for the greater outcome
by CMR@dmin | Oct 20, 2021 | Stories of Hope
10 years ago I met a 4 year old shy, angry and physically abused little boy with a drunk aggressive mother.
About 10 years ago I met a 4 year old shy, angry and physically abused little boy with a drunk aggressive mother. *Pete’s mother would abuse him when she got drunk and this time she burned him with a candle. This has not been the first time she did such a cruel thing.
We tried to help the mother with parental guidance and enrolled *Pete in our new pre-primary school. He was the first child enrolled. His mother tried to cooperate but struggled with her alcohol addiction. Three years later she passed away and her family wanted to take *Pete back to Lesotho to look after sheep on the farm. He was such a bright little boy and cried he did not know these people and wanted to stay with his stepfather who cared for him since he was small.
*Pete was placed in his stepfather’s foster care and he stayed in school. Foster care with the stepfather went well until he became ill, *Pete had to be moved. One of his teachers was very fond of him and applied for foster care. It was a difficult road and the child struggled to get used to a ‘normal’ home and family. He ran away back to the squatter camp. He rejected the family, he physically attacked the foster mother and he was angry at me the social worker.
The foster parents refused to give up. Five years later I received this message from the foster mother. Email from a prestigious private high school. “*Pete is being acknowledged in today’s Assembly, as it is a senior Assembly and be awarded the trophy in the next junior Assembly, however, he is receiving this trophy for the outstanding speech he wrote as a contribution to our BLOOM Campaign for Public Speaking. Having only started at our school this year I was so impressed to see the strong values, maturity and integrity this young man has shown and I feel that he is one of the most deserving recipients of this award. I would like to congratulate him on this achievement. Kind Regards’’ The foster mother’s words: “If maybe you thought miracles don’t happen anymore!”
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