In a nation where too many are left behind by the healthcare system, one man’s suffering has reignited a powerful movement of compassion and collective action.
South Africa (24 June 2025) – Last year, South Africans were rocked by the heartbreaking videos of Tom London, a well-known talk show host who found himself in a life-threatening situation at Helen Joseph Hospital. What began as a chest cold turned into pneumonia and a massive pleural effusion, more than a litre of fluid filled his lungs. His raw, emotional posts from his hospital bed painted a grim picture of the state of some of our public hospitals.
Tom didn’t hold back. He called it a “medical hell,” recounted watching a patient across from him die without assistance and accused some staff of treating patients like “cockroaches.”
His words were cutting. And they were heard. Millions watched. Thousands shared. And South Africans, shaken by what they saw, didn’t turn away. Within hours of Tom sharing that he needed to transfer to a private facility, donations poured in. Enough to cover his costs. Enough to save his life. But it wasn’t just about the money, it was about the outpouring of compassion. The fire of outrage turned into a force of action.
And then, the discussion seemed to dissipate.
Even though Tom has tried to keep the conversation going, and is tagged in countless stories of others facing similar situations, the need seems to far outweigh the help.
And now, just nine months later, we’re back here again, caught between countless heartbreaking stories of South Africans seeking help in our government hospitals. A different name. A new face. One man’s story is now rising to the surface, being shared across social media, whispered in WhatsApp groups and spoken about around dinner tables. It’s another powerful reminder of the “state” of our State hospitals… and the incredible kindness that still exists within our communities.
Jaco Pretorius Deserves More Than This
Jaco Pretorius thought he had a dental issue. A bit of swelling in his gums. Some discomfort. No panic, just the usual steps. He visited a state dentist and followed the treatment plan. Antibiotics. Drainage. Repeat. But the swelling didn’t go away.
By February this year, his face had visibly changed. A second opinion brought horror: this wasn’t a tooth problem. It was an aggressive cancer. Squamous cell carcinoma. A head and neck cancer that, according to a campaign supporting Jaco, should have been caught and treated earlier. From there, things spiralled. Jaco joined the lines at Charlotte Maxeke and Steve Biko hospitals, queuing from before dawn. According to reports, he was promised a feeding tube and a stent, interventions that could have brought him comfort, time and strength.
But he was turned away. “No doctor available.”
Then the tumour ruptured through his cheek. He began to bleed uncontrollably. Not one emergency service arrived. A private paramedic, herself a cancer fighter, stepped in and got him to the hospital. He was admitted.
But later that night, his family got the call: “Come collect him. We need the bed.”
Bleeding. Weak. In pain. Sent home because they needed the space.
The very next day, desperate for help, Jaco went to another hospital. There, a doctor refused to examine his face or assess the bleeding. He reportedly glanced at Jaco and dismissed it all as a “chronic wound.”
No further action. No compassion.
And yet, despite everything, there is hope.
Thanks to the care and expertise of a world-class multidisciplinary team at Cintocare Hospital in Pretoria, Jaco has a real chance to survive. The facility is equipped with specialists in complex head and neck cancer surgeries, facial reconstruction and rehabilitative support. It’s everything he needs. The only thing standing in the way is funding.
His story has started trending but this is bigger than just one man.
As Howard Butler, a cancer survivor who is championing Jaco’s cause, says, “This is about more than Jaco’s pain. It’s about every South African who wakes at 3am hoping for help. It’s about every person told that their life doesn’t matter enough to be treated with dignity. It’s about every health professional who once promised, ‘We’ll take care of him,’ but stood by when bureaucracy and indifference took over.”
Howard has walked this path. Misdiagnosis. Delays. Treatment that came too late. He’s survived tumours in his head, spine and lungs. He knows what it’s like to be forgotten in a corridor. And that’s why he’s using his voice, loudly and urgently, to tell Jaco’s story.
Because Jaco isn’t just one man. He represents thousands. Millions. Every South African who feels invisible in the waiting rooms of a system that’s buckling under pressure.
But Then, Something Happened…
Just like with Tom, South Africans are showing up.
A BackaBuddy campaign has been launched to raise the money needed for Jaco’s urgent treatment. And already, the response has been incredible. Donations are flowing in. Messages of support are pouring through. Neighbours, churches, strangers. All standing up and saying: not this time.
They’re saying: we’ve seen what happens when we ignore stories like these.
They’re saying: we won’t let this one end the same way.
Howard put it beautifully: “We must stop waiting for the system to fix itself. We must be the bridge that carries people to safety, to dignity, to care.”
And that’s what’s happening. Every share, every rand, every voice added to this growing chorus is proof that the people of South Africa are tired of the silence. Tired of seeing others suffer alone. Tired of the excuses.
What started with Tom turned into a movement. What’s happening with Jaco might just keep it going. These are not isolated stories. They are connected by a thread of human dignity. They remind us how close we all are to needing help. How easily roles can reverse, from healthy to vulnerable, from observer to advocate.
And what matters most isn’t just what the state does. It’s what we do.
We hold power. In our voices. In our kindness. In our wallets. In our outrage.
If this story makes you feel something… good. Let that feeling move you to act. Share Jaco’s story. Seek out and read the countless posts on social media sharing similar stories. Talk about what needs to change. Donate if you can. Demand answers. Offer help.
Because every time South Africans stand together like this, something shifts. Not just in one person’s life. But in our collective soul.
We’ve done it before. We can do it again. We must keep doing it again.
Let’s show the world, and each other, what South Africans are really made of.
Important Note: This story is not an attack on the incredible doctors, nurses and medical professionals who continue to work tirelessly under immense pressure. We see you. We honour you. We know you are doing the most with what you have. This is not about placing blame. It’s a heartfelt cry for help on behalf of the countless South Africans still waiting in corridors, still hoping for care and still holding on for dignity within a system that is stretched too thin.
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