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From Soweto to Sandton

From Soweto to Sandton

Most families have a story about saying goodbye to someone they love. Some farewells are peaceful. Others leave us wondering whether more could have been done to ease the suffering of someone we love. For Jabu Mabaso, that story is deeply personal.

Jabu grew up in Soweto with his brother, surrounded by laughter, the bustle of a close-knit community, supportive neighbours and an extended family that always looked out for one another. It was a childhood shaped by togetherness, where family was at the centre of everyday life. Those values remained with him long into adulthood and became even more important when his mother was diagnosed with terminal cancer.

She was the kind of mother who put her family first, and whose home was always open to relatives, neighbours and friends.

As her terminal illness progressed, she made a decision that reflected the proud, independent woman she had always been. Knowing there was no cure for her cancer, she chose not to undergo chemotherapy. She passed away in July last year, but for Jabu, the memories of her final months remain as vivid today as they were then.

“When she was ill, she refused to undergo chemotherapy, believing it was not ideal for a person her age. My mother was a woman with pride and never wanted to burden any of us.”

Jabu remembers his mother as a strong, independent woman. Watching that strength slowly fade as cancer took hold was one of the most painful experiences of his life.

“It is heartbreaking,” he says, “to watch someone who has always been so strong slowly wither away, knowing there is nothing that can cure them.”

But it wasn’t only his mother’s physical suffering that has stayed with him. Looking back, Jabu wishes his family had found the courage to speak more openly about what was happening. Instead, much of their time was spent hoping for a miracle through prayer and focusing on the possibility of recovery, rather than discussing the reality that his mother’s illness was terminal.

Jabu respects that everyone grieves and copes differently. Yet, for him, those final months became a source of lasting regret. He believes the family’s focus on a miraculous recovery gave his mother hope that a cure was still possible, making it more difficult for everyone to acknowledge that the end of her life was approaching. Looking back, he feels it robbed them of precious opportunities to prepare, to express what mattered most, and simply be together.

“I wish we had spoken honestly about death when it was approaching. My mother deserved the chance to have those conversations and to say goodbye in her own way.”

He hopes more South African families will be brave enough to have these difficult conversations before it is too late. He also hopes they will find the courage to recognise when it is time to let go, without feeling guilty that doing so means they no longer love the person who is dying.

“We need to stop hiding behind culture or avoiding the conversation because it is uncomfortable. When someone is dying, acknowledging what is happening can bring them peace. It gives families the chance to be present with one another, to say the things that need to be said, and to prepare for what is coming.”

Jabu’s experience has also shaped how he thinks about choice at the end of life.

“If people like my mother, with limited resources, could be given a choice about how they want their lives to end rather than having to endure unbearable suffering, it would spare so many families from misery.”

Although Jabu runs his own business and has since moved from Soweto to the suburbs of Pretoria, the distance never lessened his commitment to his mother. During her illness, he and his wife made the nearly 60-kilometre drive back to Soweto every weekend to spend time with his mother and brother. Those visits became precious opportunities to care for the woman who had spent her life caring for her family, making the reality of her suffering all the more difficult to witness. As her condition progressed, it became clear that she needed round-the-clock support, so Jabu and his wife arranged for a trusted live-in caregiver to provide the hands-on support and personal care she needed.

His story echoes what we hear from many South African families. Regardless of where we live, what we earn or what we believe, most of us want the same thing for the people we love: to be treated with dignity, compassion and respect until the very end.

Jabu’s story also raises broader questions about dignity, choice and support at the end of life.

At Dignity South Africa, we believe every South African should have access to the full range of compassionate end-of-life care. That includes high-quality palliative care, advance care planning and medical assistance in dying (MAiD), where appropriate and safeguarded by law. We believe people should be able to make informed choices that honour their values, wishes and dignity.

For Jabu, this is not an abstract constitutional debate. It is about ensuring that other families have choices his family did not. He leaves us with this message:

“Organisations like Dignity South Africa are there to make sure that South Africans have a voice and can have a choice of how they want to go. This could happen to any of us, from Soweto to Sandton. Please support Dignity South Africa.”

His story reminds us that conversations about dignity at the end of life are not defined by geography, race or income. They are deeply human. They touch every family, every community and, eventually, every one of us.

If this story resonates with you, we invite you to stand with Jabu. Together, we can help build a South Africa where every person has access to compassionate end-of-life care, and where every individual can approach the end of life with dignity, choice and peace.

Please share your story with us and follow DignitySA on our social media platforms.