When I was little and growing up in what was then Umtata, my friends used to scare the life out of me by threatening to take me to the lunatic asylum near Queenstown if I didn’t behave. It was called Komani and came up throughout my childhood. It was one of the reasons I never wanted to go to Queen’s College. It is still one of the reasons I find it hard to talk or write about mental illness. Komani is still there, I’m told. It is a "psychiatric hospital" now and it was one of the first things that came into my mind when I first heard about the tragic decision by Gauteng health MEC Qedani Mahlangu to move a large group of mentally ill patients out of a Life Healthcare facility near Johannesburg and to disperse them among a range of what were called nongovernmental organisations but seemed often to be little more than private homes eager for an income from the provincial government. I’ve met Mahlangu and I liked her. So it is hard not to feel for her when the consequences of what she...

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