“It’s not about the recognition, but about saving lives. At the end of the day, that’s why we do what we do.” These are the words of Pumlani Lumbe, winner of the debis Emergency Hero of the Year Award for 2005

At the award ceremony of the debis Emergency Hero of the Year Award for 2005 at the Emperor’s Palace Convention Centre one could forgive many a guest in the audience for whispering under their breath: “How could he do that? Was he mad?”

The vivid stories of the heroes of this gala dinner kept the audience riveted as the details were replayed. In their everyday lives these are ordinary men and women who come from policing and law enforcement, fire-fighting, emergency medical, hospital and ambulance services, rescue services and disaster management services. But one day they were called upon to selflessly act in saving lives or property.

For debis Fleet Management (dFM) chief executive Dan Moeletsi the award is all about focusing public attention on the risks that men and women in the emergency services face daily.

It is an award that is presented annually to publicly acknowledge the brave acts and the motivation of these men and women, he says. “But because the are committed, caring, and above all human, they do what has to be done at that moment with one thing in mind: save lives and protect property.”

The winner of this prestigious bravery award was Pumlani Lumbe. He received a floating trophy, a cash prize and an international trip combined with a training course in his area of expertise.

Beyond the call of duty

Nominees for the debis Emergency Hero of the Year award are chosen by their peers for any acts of heroism performed in the previous calendar year. Tough nomination criteria and procedures ensure that only the most telling of heroic actions are considered.

The individuals or teams entered must serve in one of the emergency service disciplines. The incident must also have been observed by a witness, been selfless and beyond the call of duty, and been intended to save a life or valuable property.

Nominations start in October and usually close by 15 March of the following year. They are sent in by the public and colleagues during an intensive campaign in newspapers and on radio and television.

Once the nominations have closed, a validation committee including top level members of all the emergency services disciplines – fire services, police services, paramedics, sea rescue, mountain rescue and the like – reviews all nominations and selects the finalists in conjunction with an independent market research company. An independent panel of adjudicators, with no vested interest, then chooses the winner.

At the announcement of the finalists, Superintendent Robert Askew of the National Crime Prevention Unit, who has found himself in similar situations, thanked the finalists for what they have done. “I know you don’t like talking about what you did, because it always brings home the realisation that you could have died. It’s a split-second decision to take action, a decision on which people will judge you based on your actions. You think of your family, you realise that you might not survive, your life flashes before your eyes,” he said.

“But what makes the difference is that you decide to do it anyway.”

Pumlani Lumbe’s story

“Don’t cry, I’m here to help you. God is going to help us,” the Mthatha police captain told a mother clinging to her three-year- old son and five-week-old baby daughter and a log in the middle of the raging Xuka River in a remote area of the Eastern Cape.

Pouring with rain, pitch dark with only the headlights of his police van lighting the scene, all Captian Pumlani Lumbe had to work with was a rickety wooden ladder from a nearby village and rope. The rest depended on his training as the only police diver in Transkei and his courage.

The force of the floodwaters had destroyed both ends of the old low-level bridge and a tree trunk swept down by the torrents had become trapped in the concrete pylons holding the centre of the bridge. It was all that was keeping Nokholisile Mxhobo and her son, Bongani, and daughter, Othembela, from being wrenched away to a certain death.

Captain Lumbe anchored one end of the ladder on the muddy bank, which was already in danger of collapsing, and rested the other end on one of the concrete pylons. He then tied a rope around his waist and gave the other end to a fellow policeman.

He carefully crawled over the river, less than a metre below him. He first tied the toddler onto his back and crawled back again to safety. Then he went back for the baby and secured her with towels from the villagers onto his back. “I couldn’t crawl on my stomach along the ladder, because the baby kept coming up my back over my head, so I had to crawl on my hands and knees, which was very dangerous. I just prayed I wouldn’t fall.”

The mother would have to crawl across by herself. She got about halfway when her dress caught on a nail and she started to cry. “I said to her: ‘Don’t cry, I’m here to help you. God is going to help us.’ She calmed down a bit and managed to free herself, and get across.”

But Captain Lumbe was not done. The family’s precious groceries were tied to the tree in the middle of the river. Still facing deadly danger, he managed to throw most of the food across, losing only two litres of cooking oil.

The following day, the river bank on which the ladder had rested had disappeared — but a national hero had been found.