Closing the door

Now is as a good time as any to just come out and say it - weareimmigratingtotheuk...

I can't say why I don't want to talk about it - am I embarrased? Do I secretly think people who immigrate are cowards? Do I feel like what we're doing is unfair? Well, yes and no.

I have avoided the subject of our impending immigration because I don't want to face the reasons we are leaving, or at least not out in the open for everyone to see and judge. I feel safer keeping our reasons to ourselves and avoiding the whole damn thing until I say one day 'Cheers! See you later!'

But of course I have to face the reasons, and share them. So I will try to do just that in this post.

We are immigrating to the United Kingdom in an effort to give Malakai the support, intervention, possibilities and freedom that he simply cannot get in South Africa.

There. I said it.

I love my country, I love the people, I love the big skies and the weather, I love the Any Day is a Braai Day attitude, I love the way those who have nothing give more than those who have everything, I love my black friends, I love my Afrikaans friends, I love my Indian friends, I love the way South Africans see possibility, connect and move forward. I love the fact that we have the Big Five and the wild landscape because where on earth can you get that other than Africa? I love melktert and niknaks. I love biltong and Mrs Balls. I love so much about my country.

What I don't love is the way in which mothers have to tie their mentally handicapped children to poles in order to keep them safe from wandering, because they simply have no other choice and no other support.  What I don't love is the way that one day our government preaches about inclusive education and the next they're back stepping like Michael Jackson doing the moonwalk - do they think I get my child ready for inclusion in a matter of days or weeks, well Mr Minister of Education, it takes years!!! His whole friggin life so far, in fact! What I don't love is the way in which our private schools will not accept my son because he has special needs and their sole focus on the 100% pass rate which drives their fees and profits up, up and away... What I don't love is the way in which our special needs organisations are fragmented, demi-god-like information-nazis that want to control the very people they serve. What I don't love is the way that I have to downgrade my son's therapies to a minimum because I simply cannot afford to pay his therapy and medical bills, seeing that I receive absolutely no support - financial or otherwise - from the country to which I hand over my hard earned money each and every month.

Wow - that was a load off! *exhale*

We have chosen to go to a place where families like us are supported, where they understand we are a little more cash-strapped than normal, where my son will be swept into a river of tried and tested policy and procedure like a leaf that hits the water and floats along supported by the current of 'what is'. I am tired of fighting and forging ahead like a modern-day special needs voortrekker. I just want to slide into a comfortable place - one where I know my son is going to get everything he so deserves, and not because I've demanded it or begged for it, but because it is the way things are. Simple.

However, I have this kind of 'quitters guilt', like I should be sticking it out in a country with my fellow special needs families, fighting and making this place better for our children and all the differently-abled children to come. Surely I should be ashamed to just cop out like this - and I certainly do feel my cheeks flush. Which could explain why I've held the news of our immigration so close to my heart, revealing as little as possible until the last possible moment.

Unfortunately, the way forward for special needs in South African is rather overgrown, and a path needs to be beaten into shape by the feet of hundreds if not thousands of families - and I have to ask myself, do I try to make a difference for my country or do I try to make a difference for Malakai?  Because I know if we stay, we will not be able to give Malakai what we could in England.

I choose my son.