I heard the news that Jason Wessenaar-Moloatsi had been killed when I was sitting with a group of friends at my home in Pretoria around the middle of December 2011. One of his best friends called me to say that Jason had been stabbed to death in his home, under circumstances which are still not clear. Our gathering, all of whom knew Jason in one way or another, was shocked into silence. I could not believe it and felt numbness and disbelief. I called some others, received one or two shocked calls and went to bed feeling empty and flat. It was only the next day that sadness arrived, and on a number of occasions that day I experienced bouts of crying and grief.
Over the next few days many calls followed, Facebook buzzed with disbelief, shock and sadness, and I called Jason’s friend Sheila Wise in the US to tell her what I knew. The last time I had visited Jason at his home had been earlier in 2011 when Sheila was visiting – we had a rollicking evening of fun, laughter, drink and food. Understandably, Sheila was bewildered and unable, too, to make sense of what had happened to Jason.
Jason was not Jason when I first met him as a skinny kid from Soweto who was volunteering in the field of HIV. He was also not HIV positive then (or if he was he didn’t know or was not open about it), when I was already working in a Hillbrow HIV programme, but his passion and enthusiasm for life, and an interest in getting stuck in, was already evident. He went by the name David then, and over the years he reverted to one of his other born names, Jason, and then subsequently added Moloatsi, from his mother’s side, to his surname. While the motivation for these changes was never revealed to me, it seems that they mirrored an inner journey of exploration, a desire to find an identity, purpose and place in a society which was not only homophobic and stigmatising of people living with HIV, but which challenged all South Africans around questions of roots, identity and belonging.
So we were friends for many years, and I watched Jason grow into a media star, taking on a key role in the Siyayinqoba - Beat It! series with aplomb. Other jobs and portfolios were added to his considerable array of talents and ventures. He worked with GNP+, and local PLHIV organisations, he contributed to many aspects of stigma work, he was a gay rights activist and more recently he worked for JHPIEGO in a programme which promoted HIV testing and awareness in the workplace. As a young, gay, confident black man who was out about being HIV positive, Jason’s contribution to building a more inclusive South Africa cannot be underestimated. For many people, he symbolised hope, survival, success and self assurance. He had truly transcended internalised stigma.
Jason’s association with the CSA was during an important phase of the organisation’s growth, and he came into our space to consolidate the work of the stigma-focused project, Siyam’kela. His contribution was extremely important and he brought an urgency and focus to the centre’s work with people who were living with HIV, or affected in some way. Always willing to step out of the limits of a job description, Jason brought energy, passion and a dogged sense of purpose to his work here. He made a profound impression on everyone, even if his enthusiasm sometimes saw him rub some people up the wrong way. Prickly and proud at times, and I saw these as important defences against being exploited, Jason always won people over with his warmth, kindness, broad and toothy smile, and sense of humour. He loved music and was always playing it in his office – I remember when Brenda Fassie died he was devastated, perhaps seeing in her something of himself, a survivor who refused to conform to anyone else’s expectations. Even after he had moved to JHPIEGO, the CSA continued to work with Jason, teaming up with him in our work with justice-sector stakeholders to promote openness, tolerance and a deeper appreciation of life as a person with HIV in South Africa. And we at the CSA certainly appreciated Jason, and he continued many of his friendships and connections he started here long after he left. Many staff members were devastated to hear about his death.
In love, Jason was not as successful as he would have liked, but there was always enough to go around for his friends and family. He truly cared about people, and if he was on your side, then you got his 100% support. In everything he did, a zest and love for life was evident. I remember seeing Jason at a gay pride fair in Johannesburg in October 2011 and I took a few pictures of him with my new camera. One of the best one’s is the one that accompanies this tribute and it seems to sum Jason up: jaunty, funny, warm, cheeky, alive! Jason will be missed by all who cared for and loved him – he was unforgettable in life and will be unforgettable in death.
