EDITORIAL | The ‘slow violence’ of hunger does not wait for government to care

“Hunger is not a problem, hunger is an obscenity.”

These were the words of judge Sulet Potterill last year when she ordered the education department to roll out the National Schools Nutrition Programme (NSNP) to all 9 million qualifying pupils. The feeding scheme had gone awol during the Covid-19 lockdown, a devastating situation for those relying on it for a nutritious meal a day. Potterill described the school feeding schemes as a “life-saving programme for the poorest of the poor child”.

On Wednesday, the Children’s Institute annual Child Gauge report — this year focusing on food and nutrition security — showed just how life-saving the school feeding programmes are. The report is an utterly depressing read, a grim reminder that SA’s children often go to bed hungry at night: one in three children who die in hospital is malnourished, and one in four is stunted.

Last year, Sowetan newspaper told the harrowing story of Agnes Shabangu, a 45-year-old mother who had lost her income during the first lockdown. Her children were trying to catch tiny fish in the Ntimba village river in a desperate bid to get their hands on food. At the time her only hope was that her family would contract Covid-19, so they could get hospitalised and so gain access to food. 

The Child Gauge report aptly uses the words “slow violence” when it refers to child malnutrition. Its lead editor, Prof Julian May, said food security for children was dire to begin with, but Covid-19 had made everything worse. Rising unemployment and food prices drove an increase in child hunger and disrupted access to safety nets such as school feeding, early childhood development programmes and health services.

The right to food is arguably the most basic human right, and it goes without saying that children should be the top priority. The SA Human Rights Commissions says the right to food requires it be available, accessible and adequate for everyone, without discrimination, at all times. But as the University of Cape Town points out, it is not only about access to food but access to nutritious food. 

One in eight children is overweight or obese because they’re getting the wrong types of food. “They are too fat because they eat foods low in nutrients and high in energy from sugar and fat,” according to the report.

It is not cheap to lead a healthy lifestyle. Food prices have gone through the roof, with the cost of an average household food basket increasing by almost R200 to just more than R4,000 a month between September and January, according to the household affordability index report recently released by the Pietermaritzburg Economic Justice and Dignity Group (PEJDG). 

“The plate is looking increasingly bad as pale starches displace all colour and protein,” the organisation said in November.

What can be done? The Child Gauge report also looks into opportunities to improve the situation. It is not as simple as the government increasing child support grants or extending the Covid-19 grant for unemployed adults, although every bit helps. The Children’s Institute suggests the marketing and sale of unhealthy foods in and around schools should be regulated, children should be educated about nutrition and healthy lifestyles, the quality of food supplied to the feeding schemes should be improved, food gardens should be cultivated at schools and vitamin supplements should be offered by school health services.

These are all sensible big-picture recommendations, but for someone like Agnes Shabangu, it offers little immediate help. After the Sowetan story about her and her children’s plight, she was assisted by readers and offered another job and support from the local tribal council. She did not have time to wait for the education department to be dragged to court to force it to reopen feeding schemes, or get its house in order to improve on school health services. Her kids were going to die of hunger, and only the community seemed to care. Perhaps that is the biggest obscenity of them all.