I’m Muzi Pooe from South Africa and I have no arms and only one deformed leg – similar to that famous dude from Australia, Nick Vujicic.
Just something else that the APD organised for me: to meet Nick Vujicic (left) earlier this year… And I even got a hug of encouragement from him!
Because of my condition I’ve obviously often needed a helping hand; sometimes with physical, sometimes with emotional and sometimes with practical issues – and I’ve been very fortunate that one specific welfare organisation has always lent that helping hand: the APD (Association for the Physically Disabled, Greater Johannesburg).
Whenever I’ve been in trouble, they’ve been there for me – and I’ve never had to pay for their help. Now they are in financial trouble, and I want to be there for them. Not just so that they can continue to be my lifeline, but so that they can continue to help the thousands of my indigent disabled brothers and sisters who depend on them for critical services, and sometimes their very survival.
If I had money, I would give it to them; but I don’t, so I’m asking you to please help me to help the APD so that they can help other people with disabilities the way that they’ve helped me…
For as long as I can remember the APD has been there for me – never, not once, have they turned me away:
when I need someone to talk to they are there, and not only during office hours; I know I can phone Ma Rachel (the Director) any time and she will speak healing words or give wise guidance, when I shared my dream of becoming a musician, they not only encouraged me to go for it; they boosted my confidence by empowering me with the necessary business skills, and ensured that I got the most important tool to further my career – a computer that would enable me to write music, when I needed a new set of wheels, they got me a stunning motorised wheelchair; and when I started performing all over the show and needed a non-motorised wheelchair they did not tell me that they had already provided me with a very expensive motorised wheelchair, they understood my dilemma and got me a lightweight, easy-to-transport second set of wheels!
The list of what they’ve done for me goes on and on. And what I really like about the APD is that they don’t just talk the talk, they walk the walk – their actions really speak louder than words and they are always willing to go beyond the call of duty.
I cringe when I think what would happen if there was no APD. Past generations (more than 500 000 people with disabilities since 1934) have benefited from their services – what would happen to future generations?
I’m not trying to raise money for the APD because I think I can ever repay them for what they’ve done for me since the age of 4, that would be impossible (how much does the peace of mind knowing that there are people who really care and who will definitely do whatever they can to help you, cost?).
But I know that they can use every cent I manage to raise. And it would be a dream come true if I could help other people with disabilities less fortunate than myself via the APD.
As mentioned earlier, the APD played an important role in me becoming a musician. I leave you with a song that I sang at the APD’s AGM when they honoured me with the coveted Achiever of the Year Award – check the video below.
Bless you for whatever you find in your heart to give.
When you judge another, you do not define them, you define yourself.