By Quintin van Jaarsveld

Jzaun Dreyer is not defined by the catastrophic rugby injury that left him paralysed in his teenage years, but by the unstoppable drive to turn the corner and live a rich and remarkable life

laying on the left wing for President High School’s first 15 against Hoërskool Brandwag on 15 March 2006, Jzaun Dreyer set off on a trademark run when he was hit in a double tackle. The 16-year-old suffered a broken neck and was left a C5/6 incomplete quadriplegic.

For an active teenager, there’s no greater heartbreak and challenge than to cope with such a debilitating injury. It requires a second drastic change, a mental shift, and Dreyer’s turning point came extra-ordinarily quickly.

“It was absolutely devastating, but being born into a military family, I’ve always had a no-nonsense outlook on life and that’s what helped me,” says the Centurion-based 34-year-old.

“I was still in the ICU [at Netcare Union Hospital in Alberton] and either out of anger or being tired of not knowing what the road ahead was going to be like, I asked the doctor to give it to me straight and from there my mindset was, ‘if this is how it’s going to be, let me do the best I possibly can’.

With that steely resolve and the support of his family, he went the extra mile during and after his six months at Netcare Rehabilitation Hospital in Auckland Park.

“I refused to go to a ‘special’ school and returned to my old school that was in no way wheelchair-friendly. Friends and teachers carried me up three floors to make sure I attended my classes and I finished matric with a bachelor’s degree,” Dreyer says.

He decided to go into the financial industry and completed his NQF 5, NQF 6 and Regulatory exams through FNB, where he became a manager at the age of 21. He then had a short stint at African Bank before joining OUTsurance in 2016 and has cemented himself as one of the company’s best sales advisors.

“

I asked the doctor to give it to me straight and from there my
mindset was, ‘if this is how it’ s going to be, let me do the best
I possibly can’.

He also owns his own business. “I’m very blessed to be a business owner. During lockdown, my wife came up with a business model where we go to clients’ premises offering full valets as well as wash-and-go services. It took off like a wildfire as people were so scared to go to car washes because of the number of people who wash a single vehicle adding to a higher risk of infection.”

As a petrolhead, he was never going to sit idle on the side lines, even if it meant doing the almost impossible for someone with his high level of injury.

“To get my Motorsport SA licence, I had to lift myself out of my wheelchair and into an entirely-enclosed race car, so almost to a standing position over a roll cage and through the window area of the door and buckle myself up with a five-point harness,” Dreyer explains.

“Then I had to unbuckle myself and by some means or miracle lift myself out of the car, drop onto a piece of cardboard on the floor and shimmy away in a set time to show I could escape in case of the car catching fire and I did it on the first try.”

Heading up his own race team, JD Racing SA (which is also the name of his mobile detailing and carwash business), and using a hand-control driving aid, he’s been tearing up tracks in and around Gauteng in the Vilaca Racing Series since 2018.

“Racing is the greatest thrill … it’s fear, excitement and adrenaline rolled into one. My ‘weapon’ of choice is my 2005 Subaru Impreza, which is fully set up for track racing. I also have a 2007 Subaru Impreza WRX and a 2011 Subaru Impreza WRX STI. I’ve owned and been in some cool cars over the years – Mustangs, Ferraris, Skylines, Supras, you name it!”

He’s still a big rugby lover and represented the Leopards in the National Wheelchair Rugby Tournament, while he also made a name for himself as a comedian and featured on Comedy Central.

However, his biggest love is his wife, Anzelle.

“Anzelle’s my source of strength, my best friend and my biggest supporter. She’s hard-working and dedicated and, although I’m self-sufficient, she finds a way to make the wheelchair factor disappear. She motivates me to do better and when days are challenging, she picks me up,” Dreyer says.

He mentions that the Chris Burger Petro Jackson Players’ Fund has played an invaluable role through their provision of wheelchairs and ongoing support.

“Being independent is the most important goal for any person with a disability. That’s what the Players’ Fund has given me. Having the mind and willpower will only get you so far; having the tools will enable you to finish the job, so I’m extremely grateful to the Players’ Fund,” he concludes.

By Quintin van Jaarsveld

On 22 July, 2006, a week before his 17th birthday, tragedy struck when a cluster of players clattered into the then-HTS Louis Botha first 15 lock and a player from Hoërskool Bloemfontein who he had tackled at a ruck.

“I could audibly hear my neck breaking. It sounded like three gunshots going off in my head,” recalls Alwyn Nel.

The injury left him a C4/5 incomplete quadriplegic who uses a powered hand-controlled wheelchair. The mental toll of such a life-changing incident is just as severe as the physical, if not more so, and requires remarkable resolve to overcome. For Alwyn, his lowest low was also his turning point, which came at home about a year after his arduous rehabilitation at Life Pasteur.

“I was sitting outside just tired of the same monotonous routine every day. I was feeling especially ‘gatvol’ that day. All my peers had just finished school, were moving on with their lives and doing the most amazing stuff, and here I was. I felt forgotten, unwanted and dejected. For the first time, I asked myself, ‘Is this the sum of your existence? Is this really how it has to be for the rest of your life? You haven’t finished school, you’re disconnected from everything you ever knew or wanted. So, what is it you want now?’,” Alwyn tells.

“I wondered if it was even worth wanting anything since I probably couldn’t achieve anything worthwhile ever again. But then, an epiphany of sorts hit me. This deep, dark ocean of sadness has no bottom. If I wanted to breathe again, I’d have to start swimming. Even if I didn’t know which way was up, I’d have to start doing something to stop sinking. The very moment I decided to demand more good things from life, life started giving them. There were many shut doors, but so many open ones started to be revealed.”

With his newfound motivation, he finished school from home and set out to knock down the door of law. His road was littered with more challenges than any of his fellow aspiring attorneys faced, but he graduated with an LLB degree at the University of the Free State in 2018. He added an LLM degree from Australia’s Bond University as well as an Executive Leadership diploma from Oxford University (both online). From there, he did his one-year internship with the Law Society of South Africa and this year joined JVK Attorneys as a Candidate Legal Practitioner at the age of 33.

“JVK have gone out of their way to make it possible for me to do my articles. While other law firms have this outdated mindset that ‘if you can’t adapt to us, you don’t belong here’ and ‘if you can’t climb the stairs to our offices that don’t have a lift, too bad’ (and that happened more than once). JVK’s directors said, ‘If you can meet our high standards and keep up with the pace, we’ll make everything else accessible to you. If we go to see clients in another city, we’ll make sure your hotel is always wheelchair-friendly, etc.’ That forward-thinking has opened a world of opportunities to me denied to so many others,” Alwyn says.

Many who suffer such a severe setback as he did, don’t have the strength or belief that they can go on to live a meaningful life, let alone strive for such a massive goal as he has managed to achieve. Asked where he got that strength from, Bloemfontein-based Alwyn notes, “Firstly, from God. Before my accident, I was not particularly religious, but once you’ve stared death in the eyes, you realise that nothing good is possible without God. Secondly, failure in my view hurts much less than not trying.”

“

This deep, dark ocean of sadness has no bottom. If I wanted to breath again, I’d have to start swimming.

He adds, “The nature of our goals doesn’t matter; seeing them through does. Whether it’s exercising a bit more each day, or getting a degree, as long as you can see it through, life will slowly start to feel meaningful again. Achieving one goal gives you the momentum to go for the next one.”

Support is crucial, Alwyn emphasises. “My pillars of strength have been God, my family, the Chris Burger Petro Jackson Players’ Fund and the South African Rugby Legends Association (SARLA). This is a lonely journey. People come and go and you somehow get lost in the fray. The Players’ Fund helps you get back on your feet and is like that one friend who never left. And, when my medical aid ran out, SARLA threw me a lifeline. Without their joint support, I wouldn’t be the man I am today.”

He concludes, “Just because it looks like the end of the road doesn’t mean it actually is. Life doesn’t always work out as we imagined it would, but that’s okay. No matter what I or others say, though, it’s up to the individual to use what God gave them to get out of a hole.”