Dr Bala Govender
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Brilliant Durban specialist surgeon Balasunduram “Bala” Govender was more than a doctor - he was a saviour in a white coat.
With deft, gifted hands, he gave hundreds of people the miracle of a second chance at life.
Yet, in a moment that stunned all who loved him, nothing could be done when his own time came suddenly - and peacefully - at his home last week.
Relatives, friends, and patients now wrestle with the aching question: how could somebody who was physically fit be taken so young, at just 61? The answer lies beyond human grasp.
For across the world’s great religions, one truth resounds - a Higher Power alone sets the preordained hour of death.
Dr Govender’s time was written, and when it arrived, even the finest surgeon’s skill could not alter it.
Maidstone Barracks
Hailing from the humblest of beginnings, the young Dr Govender grew up in Maidstone Barracks in Tongaat, where the families of sugar mill workers carved out their lives in modest dwellings.
His own family was far from well-to-do - there were mornings when he walked to school barefoot.
Yet poverty never dimmed his spirit. In the classroom, his brilliance shone; on the sports field, his determination blazed. Against every hardship, he rose - proving that greatness can be born from struggle, and that resilience can turn scarcity into strength.
Despite financial difficulties, he enrolled at the then University of Natal Medical School and served his internship at Livingstone Hospital in Port Elizabeth.
He chose to specialise in surgery - training at the Addington, RK Khan and Kind Edward VIII Hospitals. He later joined private practice with the seasoned surgeon Dr Ponnusamy Rajaruthnam, before eventually establishing himself independently.
His work as a general surgeon spanning more than three decades encompassed surgical gastroenterology, endocrine surgery, breast surgery for malignant and benign disorders, thyroid surgery abdominal wall hernias, and trauma surgery. However, his niche lay in laparoscopic minimal access surgery, operating inside the abdomen through several tiny cuts.
I came under his scalpel in March this year.
Remarkable mentor
Many younger surgeons described Dr Govender as a respected colleague and remarkable mentor.
Dr Pramod Reddy said in an online tribute: “It was an absolute privilege to be guided by him early in my surgical career. He was an amazing anatomist and brilliant teacher who was so passionate about his work and patients. His wisdom and skill shaped many surgical careers and his legacy will certainly endure through every surgeon he trained. It is certainly a sad time for our profession.”
A theatre colleague Sabo Hlengwa posted: “It was an honour to be part of your team. You cultivated in us character, zeal and total commitment to save lives alongside you. Your words at the end of an operation that you have done your best and the rest is in the hands of God, will always remind us that we are not just in a job, but are fulfilling a calling and purpose.”
A close friend, former POST and Daily News Sports Editor Mohen Govender - now settled in Australia - said: “Bala’s untimely death is devastating as he touched so many lives.
“Many may not know but Bala was an outstanding volleyball player who made his mark for Watsonia in the Natal Super League in the 80s. He was a talented spiker and was an inspiration to younger players, me included.
“Bala was also a talented centre half for Maidstone FC in Tongaat but cut short his career to focus on medicine. It proved to be his calling in life as he became a brilliant surgeon, saving many lives.”
A devotee of Lord Muruga, Dr Bala Govender, extreme left, carried the kavady annually. He is seen with a friend, Nishen Govender (middle) and his sons Sameshan, Kiashen and Aveshan
Image: SUPPLIED
His faith shaped him
Although Dr Govender’s calling as a doctor was rooted in science, he never turned away from the faith that shaped him. He remained a devout Hindu, his heart bound in worship.
A steadfast devotee of Lord Murugan, he bore the kavady each year with humility and devotion, carrying not just the weight of the offering but the weight of his prayers.
And then came last Friday - an auspicious day when the Goddess of spiritual prosperity, Mother Lakshmi, is honoured in homes across the world.
Rising before dawn, Bala joined his wife and children in sacred prayer, offering devotion to Lakshmi with the same sincerity that marked his life. But soon after, feeling unwell, he lay down quietly… never to rise again.
It was a passing as profound as it was peaceful - a soul departing on the very day it had bowed before the Divine.
Anitya
While the sudden passing of Dr Govender has left loved ones reeling - especially since he was known to be immensely health conscious and had, only the evening before, played a lively game of padel with colleagues - faith offers a measure of solace.
For though the shock is sharp, the religious precepts on sudden death remind us of a deeper truth: the hour of departure is not ours to choose. It is set by a Higher Power, written into the fabric of destiny long before we draw our first breath.
Hinduism teaches that death comes when the pre-ordained destiny of the body ends. Only the soul is eternal. Physical fitness can maintain the machine of the body, but it cannot extend the lease of life signed by destiny. In Hinduism, Anitya means impermanence – the truth that everything in the material world is transient, perishable, and subject to change.
Anitya shatters the illusion that youth, health, or strength can provide permanent safety.
Sudden death
In Islam, sudden death in a state of good health is viewed as a decreed destiny (Qadar). Islam also preaches that every person’s lifespan is fixed by God (Allah) before birth. Sudden death does not mean a person died before their time. It happens precisely at the appointed second.
In the Christian view, the sudden death of a healthy person means that God is sovereign over time, human life is fragile, and believers have hope in eternal life. Christians believe
that God numbers every person’s days before they are born (Psalm 139:16). A sudden death may surprise family and friends, but it does not catch God by surprise. His timing is perfect, even when humans cannot understand it (Isaiah 55:8-9).
Professor Dean Gopalan’s tribute carries the weight of both friendship and professional kinship. When the Head of Anaesthesiology and Critical Care at the Nelson Mandela School of Medicine stood before colleagues, his voice faltered - not from weakness, but from the depth of love and respect he bore for his bosom buddy.
In that moment, the clinical detachment of medicine gave way to raw humanity.
His words were not just about a colleague’s brilliance in the operating theatre, but about the laughter shared, the battles fought side by side, and the unspoken bond that only years of camaraderie can forge.
To see a man of science battle tears is to glimpse the profound truth: that behind every title and every achievement lies the fragile, irreplaceable thread of friendship.
Tribute
Prof Gopalan said: “In a crazy world where everyone strives to be different, where people flit back and forth whimsically, and where we drift often aimlessly with the slightest of winds, the giant oak stands steadfast, deeply rooted in its core, casting its ever-widening shadow, protecting all that seek solace within its embrace.
“Constancy in this crazy, ever-changing world of ours is indeed rare. And still there is great comfort in knowing that some things don’t change. Bala Govender was one of those. For his six decades and through changing cycles, challenging circumstances and crucial chapters of so many lives, he was simply there. He never lost touch.
“He was constant in his friendship. He was constant in his family life. He was constant in his workspace. He was constant in everything he did. That was Bala Govender, a constant in this chaotic equation of our lives.”
He said Dr Govender wore many hats loyally: as “Dad”, a dedicated family man to his wife Thilay, and his three sons Sameshan, Kiashen and Aveshan; as “Danny”, a loving brother to his five sisters, and a caring uncle and cousin to a host of relatives; as “Baldrick” a dear friend to his medical fraternity; as “The Sherrif at St Augustine’s Hospital”, surgeon extraordinaire to so many healthcare professionals that he constantly bailed out of trouble and the thousands of patients that he so effortlessly rescued; and as “Balasunduram”, a religious devotee steadfastly maintaining his fasting and lifelong commitment to the Kavady festival.
“Bala was a dominant midfielder on the yesteryear football grounds of Tongaat; an avid golfer; a serious single malt club member; a die-hard Liverpool FC supporter; and as a music lover, his tastes varied from the Tamil classic “Paadiguren” to Kenny Rogers to Whitney Houston.
“But the one thing that he was the most fiercely loyal about was to that moustache – despite our various attempts at relieving him of it. And all this from very humble beginnings from the barracks in Tongaat, rising to the top of his profession as a surgeon,” Prof Gopalan said, forcing smiles from mourners.
Yogin Devan is a media consultant and social commentator. Share your comments with him on: [email protected]
