This heart-breaking, intensely human story shows so much about economic divides – rich and poor – in our country. It also shows the real-life effects of the HIV and AIDS epidemic, and how it has magnified poverty. It’s shameful to accept, but South Africa is notorious in the world for the massive gap between richest and poorest. The gap was there during apartheid, and sadly, democracy has not lessened it much.

Prayers is a window into the reality of deep poverty in South Africa; a poverty that means sleeping on a grass mat in a simple hut, using a pit toilet, a shopping list that has only, “soap, paraffin, candles and mieliemeal” on it. In this life a gift of margarine is “such a luxury!” In this life you carry water from a communal pump and Saturday is when, “we spend the rest of the afternoon looking for food: fruits, nuts and edible greens that grow in the wild. We also catch edible insects.”

In the past, these things were part of a vibrant village life, but loving adults were also there to also plough fields, keep herds of sheep and goats and cattle, grow food and raise children safely. But the time setting of Prayers is the fairly recent past. Refiloe and her little sister Lesedi gather wild foods for survival and take small hand-outs from the neighbour because they are destitute AIDS orphans.

The teacher is encouraging clever Refiloe to write to businesses for help, because there is no other way this “childparent” can get money. Her family situation is a common one: the father worked far away ‘on the mines’ and the mother was “a hardworking woman of little education”. The story illustrates dramatically how illiteracy makes poverty worse. The father never told his wife where he worked, and his pension is not being paid. She does not have the literacy skills to track it down. (Plus, the mine bosses are not making any effort to do the right thing and pay out the money.)

Poverty is just one effect of being orphaned. What about the trauma and grief? The writer shows us these other effects through two vivid details. Our proud and brave main character confesses: “Whenever I really miss Mme, I go to her [the neighbour] to cry. Her sight is half gone so I don’t mind crying in front of her.” Refiloe is also troubled by another effect: “When Mme passed away, Lesedi went back to infancy … urinating in her sleep … I would really like it to stop as it is affecting her.” How many young people in our country are dealing with the long-term emotional shock of losing parents and being plunged into desperate poverty?

Let’s look for a silver lining to the situation shown in Prayers. We South Africans can celebrate how ‘people’s power’ can dramatically change a situation. As the AIDS epidemic raged through communities like Refiloe’s, the then President, Thabo Mbeki, and his Minister of Health, Manto Tshabalala-Msimang, refused to allow new treatment to be rolled out. He did not believe the doctors and scientists who said that AIDS was caused by a virus. So, wealthy people bought the latest treatment privately; poor people just died in the hundreds of thousands. The famous Treatment Action Campaign was started in 1998 to force government to take action. As they rightfully say, “It is widely acknowledged as one of the most important civil society organisations active on AIDS in the developing world.” Hundreds of thousands of people are alive today because of the pioneering TAC.

To go back to the story, Refiloe is clever and hard-working. She will get bursaries to complete schooling. She is also therefore able to be ambitious, believing, like her teacher, that she will overcome “mediocrity”. She dreams big. But let’s not forget about people like her friend Tsidi, who is not academically gifted.

The Constitution is clear that all children have the right to a home and enough food, to health care, a safe environment and education, and then to work. This is the minimum we each need to make the most of our abilities.

In 2015 Stats SA reported that we have 90 000 children in 50 000 child-headed households. Thank goodness, we do now have a social welfare system that supports households like Refiloe’s and Tsidi’s. This story is set before this help was in place.

Today, the girls in Prayers would be getting a social grant every month to cover their basic expenses. But, researchers know that there are still today many, many kids who do not have the information, skills and means to collect this money. Perhaps they live far from any post office or bank or shop, and are so poor they cannot even travel to one. As Miss Maluleke says, “There is money out there to give to AIDS orphans, the only question is how to access it.”

Now let’s turn to the most heartbreaking and crazy-making part of the plot. Instead of rushing to their help, what does the innocent girls’ uncle do? He steals their furniture and burns down their home! Why? “When I went to ask him to return some things we really needed, he told me my family was shameful and he did not want to have anything to do with us.”

We now have the biggest HIV treatment programme in the world, and lots has been done to stop the ‘stigma’ or shame around HIV and AIDS. However, it is still common, just because (shhh!) sex is the main way the virus is passed on. Aren’t us humans weird about a natural desire!? A special research project called ‘The People Living with HIV Stigma Index’ started in 2015. It’s found out that young, poor women feel negative effects of this stigma the most.

Refiloe draws her strength from her prayers and this strength helps her to focus and plan, and to find a way out of poverty. Her achievement also stems from her own determination and hard work, plus the practical help of people like her teacher and her neighbour. By the end of the story we hope that she is destined for a better life.