The trouble was that it was difficult to get people’s attention. Sabelo and Winase grew frustrated. “It’s big organisations, like Section 27, who get heard,” Sabelo said to Winase.

Then one day Tjhudu phoned from Jozi. “Hey bro,” he said. “You know that hospital that wouldn’t help Winase? They’ve done it again, turned away a man having a severe asthma attack, and he died.”

“God!” Sabelo tried to imagine how he would have felt if Winase had died because of that place. “Is anything being done about it?”

“For sure!” Tjhudu went on to say that one of the big human rights organisations had got involved. “There’s going to be this march, and guess what? I took a chance, DM’d their leader on Twitter about what happened with Winase, and now they want to pay for you two to come through for it and maybe talk to some people. You can stay with us again.”

Sabelo told Winase about it. “I’m starting to understand that there’s power in being part of a group. Let’s go. I just need to decide what I’m going to tell Ms Ledwaba.”

The nail salon easily gave Winase time off, but Ms Ledwaba did some muttering about what Sabelo told her was “a medical matter.”

The march was amazing, a massive crowd, peaceful but determined. Before it started, Tjhudu introduced Sabelo and Winase to the team of organisers. Later, as they reached the hospital, Sabelo noticed one of the news teams with television cameras who had accompanied them. The young reporter was pulling people out of the crowd, asking why they were here, and what the demonstration meant to them.

One of the march organisers appeared and pushed Winase forward. “Winase was turned away from this same hospital in an emergency.”

“Tell us what happened?” the young woman invited Winase.

“I can’t really, because I was in a diabetic coma,” Winase laughed. “These two handsome men saved my life.”

So then Sabelo and Tjhudu had to share the story of what had happened, before Winase talked a bit more.

It was strange to see themselves on television that night. “This is Winase, who is living her best life with diabetes, but she so nearly wasn’t here to tell the story – or rather, to let these two young men tell it for her,” the reporter introduced the clip. It was repeated later on the station’s sister channel.

The best news came the next day, with a very angry government minister promising to “look into” what had happened, and quoting the part of the constitution that said no one may be refused emergency medical treatment.

Suddenly, the television clip was all over social media, and journalists were contacting them. So were diabetes support groups, wanting Winase to come and talk to them about how she managed her condition.

“I don’t know if I can be a spokesperson for living with diabetes, but I’ll do my best while they want me,” Winase promised.

“And I’ll support you,” Sabelo said.

“Like you always do.” She hugged him. “You were right, there’s power in groups. It won’t happen all in a flash, but we can make a difference.”

“As long as we all stand together,” Sabelo agreed.

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