Melanie Verwoerd

View Original

The cruelty of delaying UIF maternity payments

I have a friend who is a phenomenal nurse. She works mostly in maternity wards, which like most nursing jobs involves long hours and deep compassion. When COVID-19 hit, she and her husband - who is also a nurse - kept working, because that is what nurses do.

When the rest of us collapse, they keep standing and nurture us back to health. What was amazing was that my friend was pregnant at the time, but despite the additional risks that COVID posed to her and the baby, she stayed at her post right till the end of her pregnancy.

After the birth of her little girl, she applied for UIF, since her work only paid one third of her normal salary during maternity leave.  After weeks of no response, she got agencies involved, who confirmed that the documentation was on file at the Department of Labour, but could get no explanation as to why it hadn’t been processed. This continued for months, putting my friend under enormous financial strain.

She tried everything – she even contacted the premier for the Western Cape, Alan Winde, whose office politely responded that since it is a national function they could not be of any assistance. On more than one occasion following an enquiry from her side, the Department of Labour insisted that she had to resubmit forms she had already provided. Then she was informed that the process had changed since her original application and that she needed to submit different forms. She did, but still no payments were made.

Eventually, she found a sympathetic person in the Department of Labour who took pity on her and spoke to someone who finally processed her application. She got her first payment in time for the baby’s first birthday.

My friend is not an isolated case. I have heard numerous similar stories. To mention one: another ICU nurse, who also worked throughout COVID is still waiting more than a year after her baby was born.

This is really shocking!

In South Africa, women are entitled to four months’ maternity leave. However, there is no obligation on employers to pay for this time – which by the way is seriously backward and should be changed in law. The point is that this means that the vast majority of women have to rely on UIF payments (which are only 66% of their usual salary) to make ends meet during maternity leave.

Even when employers contribute, they usually pay only one third of the salary (as in my friend’s case), because they assume that the rest will be covered by UIF payments. 

To make matters worse, you can only apply for UIF once you start your maternity leave. Given that many women want to maximise time off with their babies, they increasingly work until just before their due date. Which means that the UIF application coincides with the baby being born.

The Department of Labour says that it takes 3-6 weeks for the first payment to be made. Assuming it does, which clearly it doesn’t, it still means that women and their families will have to go without money for one to two months.

Even worse, because it takes so long to get payments, many women are forced to go back to work six weeks after the baby has been born. Even though the law allows this as the minimum time taken off postpartum, it is less than desirable – I would argue cruel - for baby and mother.

Having a baby involves a lot of additional costs no matter how carefully you budget. It is also physically and emotionally a draining time for parents. So, the last thing they should have to worry about is whether the state will honour their obligation to pay UIF timeously. It is of course also important to note that individuals have contributed to this fund through monthly salary deductions.

Most importantly, when the state can’t honour the most basic obligation to pay out these payments quickly and efficiently, it puts both babies and families at risk, which is callous and totally unacceptable.