It started with a call for help. And ended with a baby, a dining room table full of gifts and a reminder that South Africans never let each other down. Kim Nicola Stephens shares a story of ubuntu.
Western Cape, South Africa (08 November 2025) – Kim Nicola Stephens has a way of turning chaos into clarity. Her writing has carried South Africans through heavy times, from her hilarious lockdown diaries to her razor-sharp takes on the country’s trickier headlines, always reminding us that humour, heart, and humanity are still alive and well.
And once again, she’s given us a story that restores faith in people.
Kim had been knocked down by what she called a “donkey-ass flu” (so descriptive… we love it) when a message from her cleaner, the incomparable “Queen Vic”, changed everything.
Queen Vic, loved by Kim’s followers almost as much as Kim herself, had been through a tough year but was holding onto one bright thing: the impending birth of her granddaughter.
“So as many of you know, we have the queen of all queens, Queen Victoria, working for us as an incredible cleaner. She has been through a traumatic year but through it all, has also been looking forward to the birth of her granddaughter,” Kim wrote on her Facebook page.
On a Wednesday night, things started moving quickly. Queen Vic’s daughter was in labour at a clinic in Nyanga, but as the hours dragged on, it became clear that the situation was getting dangerous. There were no baby monitors. No C-section facilities. No ambulance in sight. And yet, she wasn’t allowed to leave in a private car… only an official ambulance that never seemed to arrive.
“They had called an ambulance at 2pm on Wednesday, but it was after 9pm and there was no sign of a transfer to Mowbray. Given that she was contracting every 2 to 3 minutes, but only 3cm dilated, there was a high chance of the baby being in distress after so much time had lapsed.Nyanga clinic is not set up for C-sections, and there was no baby monitor on her.”
Kim did what South Africans do best. She acted. She posted a plea for help on her complex’s WhatsApp group. Within minutes, a neighbour she had never met offered to sponsor a private ambulance.
“Guys, that is NOT a small offer,” Kim stated. “Extremely generous.”
What followed was a night filled with phone calls, coordination and pure community spirit. ER24’s Dylan, a controller who Kim described as “nothing less than brilliant,” organised an ambulance and a police escort into a red-zone area. But when paramedics arrived, they weren’t allowed to enter the clinic. Bureaucracy and fear created a wall between emergency workers and a mother in distress.
“It took around 40 minutes, and the ER24 controller, Dylan, called me to say his paramedics were on site but could not enter the clinic. He patched me through to the paramedics, and they explained that the clinic would not give them permission to enter, and they could not wait there long due to the dangerous nature of the area.
I called mom-to-be, this was close to 10pm, and I could hear the nurses shouting at her, explaining that she could not leave in that private ambulance. She must wait for a government ambulance,” Kim wrote.
There was nothing more they could safely do.
Kim barely slept that night. But at dawn, a message arrived that changed everything.
Queen Vic’s daughter had been transferred to Mowbray Maternity and delivered a healthy baby girl, Aluna, just after 1:45 am. Both mom and baby were safe.
And what happened next was magic.
“By now, the young mom and her baby were main characters on our WhatsApp group. Strangers and friends were messaging to ask if they had made it and how they were. I was able to confirm a healthy birth with necessary intervention.”
The same WhatsApp group that had stayed up worrying became a lifeline. Messages poured in from neighbours asking what the family needed. Within hours, Kim’s dining room table was covered with donations: baby clothes, nappies, blankets, bum cream, toys, wipes, maternity pads, even a breast pump. The person who had offered the ambulance insisted on paying any costs that might have arisen, and when there weren’t any, they sent gifts instead.
From a crisis came connection. From fear came generosity. From a long, anxious night came new life… in every sense of the word.
Kim summed it up perfectly:
“This, dear friends, is why South Africa is beautiful. And why connections matter. And why asking for help is a good thing. And why we must always, always offer help when we can.”
Baby Aluna has already brought out the best in a community that didn’t hesitate to show up for strangers. And that’s the real heart of this story, that kindness doesn’t just deliver babies… it delivers hope.

