Light on the horizon for Soweto’s hostels

Celumusa Dlamini grew up in an impoverished home in Emangweni village in Ladysmith, KwaZulu-Natal. His childhood dream was to become a taxi driver. In 2016, he packed his bags and travelled more than 475km to the City of Gold in search of economic opportunities. He moved into the Nancefield Hostel in Soweto.

A businessman from his village who owned a fleet of taxis and some goats at the hostel had arranged a job for him.

“The deal was that I would look after his goats for two years and after that ubab’ uMbuyisa would take me to the driving school to get my licence,” said the 25-year-old.

Mbuyisa took care of Dlamini’s accommodation and food while he looked after the goats.

Dlamini would herd the goats to a nearby field to graze on moss, weeds and shrubs before taking them back to the kraal in the afternoon to feed them dried mielies before his shift ended. Two years passed and he now works as a taxi driver on the local route from Kliptown to the Bara taxi rank.

He does the early morning and late afternoon shifts so he can help intern Kwanda Dlangalala, 24, who also comes from Emangweni village, through the same process.

Dlamini considers himself lucky. His dream has come true while many others who live in the hostel, who also came to the city hoping for a better life, have given up on finding a job.

“I’m grateful to be able to send money home to my parents and be able to save for rainy days,” he said.

The unemployment rate, according Stats SA’s expanded definition, is 46.6%. Gauteng, the economic hub of the country, attracts international and domestic migrants from rural areas in Limpopo, KwaZulu-Natal and the Eastern Cape.

Establishment of hostels

Hostels were built in townships designated as black residential areas during apartheid, and located far from the cities and towns in which whites lived. These transit camps offered cheap and affordable accommodation for impoverished migrant workers who came from rural areas.

Hostel dwellers were never properly integrated into township life. Their wives or partners and children were not allowed to visit them, resulting in children being raised by their mothers, grandparents or members of their extended families.

Twenty-eight years after democracy, Nancefield Hostel, which was built in 1958, is old and dilapidated, like many hostels. The view from the Maponya Mall down Moroka Nancefield Road is one of shacks, their density hiding the gigantic old dormitory blocks of the hostel.

The structures are cracked and some have fallen apart, posing a danger to occupants. Paintings on walls have peeled off after years of neglect. Most broken windows are covered with flattened cardboard boxes to block out dust and cold wind in winter.

Despite being banned in 2008, broken and leaking asbestos roof sheets top all the buildings. Streets are untarred, except for a few main streets that take you in and out of the hostel. Laundry hangs on makeshift lines strung from trees to buildings.

The showers in the old blocks don’t have geysers and residents have to boil water on stoves to wash, though power cuts make this impossible at times.

A mobile clinic comes on Mondays and Wednesdays to provide healthcare services.

Recreational facilities for children are not available and goats feed on stagnant spilled sewage that runs in the streets in some areas.

Some older hostel dwellers allege the electricity problem began when the administration office that supplied services stopped operating years after the ANC government took over in 1994.

Electricity issues

Thandiwe Zulu, 40, used to rent a room in Kagiso, Mogale City, before she lost her job seven years ago. Out of desperation, she moved in with her boyfriend at the hostel.

“Life was wonderful and I felt welcomed here,” she said.

Her pink dress brightens the dark room and her dynamic sense of humour makes the three women next to her giggle. Their electricity mains box exploded in April 2021, and for seven months residents lived without power.

The box was meant to supply a few blocks but ended up supplying the many shacks that have been erected in and around the area. Some blocks have been without electricity for more than a year.

Zulu points to the extension cable on the floor that leads to a two-plate stove where mama Mntambo is cooking in the dingy open-plan kitchen and lounge.

“We get electricity from our block 23 neighbours and we take turns to cook, cool our fridges and light our rooms.”

“I spoke to people at Eskom to fix the electricity. They did not come,” said Mashiya “Thisha” Shange, an induna at the hostel. The box was only fixed in December.

Many problems

Crime is another scourge.

The hostel’s notoriety goes back to the 1990s during the country’s transition to democracy, when killings intensified, creating perpetual tension between township residents living in surrounding areas.

“It was perceived back then that the hostels were for the IFP and the townships were for the ANC people,” said Shange, who has held his position for more than 20 years since arriving at the hostel in 1981.

The SA Human Rights Commission estimates around 3,653 people were killed between July 1990 and June 1993. In May last year, four cars were burnt and a 45-year-old woman was reported to have been gang-raped by three men during a protest over electricity.

“As a leader, I got hold of that information and thus far there has been no-one and no woman who has confronted me about this issue,” said Shange, who suspects the rape might have been committed by criminals who don’t live in the hostel but took advantage of the electricity protest.

“I tell people to honour and respect people. It does not matter if you are Venda, Xhosa, Tsonga, Tswana or Pedi,” Shange said, reflecting on the diverse community that lives in the hostel.

He said during the xenophobic attacks in 2008, the hostel did not chase away migrants who live or do business in the area.

Restoration efforts

There is a glimmer of hope that the hostel is changing.

Mlungisi Mabaso, the City of Johannesburg’s member of the mayoral committee for housing, is on a mission to improve living conditions in hostels, undertake refurbishments and create jobs. The 31-year-old protested successfully against the proposed demolition of the Dube Hostel in 2017, where he once lived for nine years.

The City’s Johannesburg Social Housing Company has invested R178m in a project that aims to revamp the old administration office and create cleaning and maintenance jobs for 18 months from May 2021 to November 2022.

The Gauteng department of human settlements spent R230m building new apartments in Meadowlands, Mzimhlophe, Dube and Diepkloof. The flats were completed between 2011 and 2012 but were left unoccupied. Some were vandalised because of a rental payment misunderstanding between the department and residents.

“We are working hard on all our projects aimed at hostel redevelopment. As things stand, it is not at the level of satisfaction I would like. We are attending to all repairs and maintenance in all hostels under our management,” said Mabaso.

Born and raised in Ulundi, KwaZulu-Natal, he is popularly known to his peers as “Last Born” as he is one of the youngest mayoral committee members.

He served without charge as a community leader for eight years at Dube Hostel before rising to prominence, and attributes his success to his willingness to help people. As an IFP member, he also serves as the national secretary of the IFP Youth Brigade.

The committee plans to develop more family units but is doing studies to see if the land is able to be developed as the Nancefield Hostel is built on a wetland. He said he is concluding plans for the Mapetla Hostel in Soweto.

Proud of changes

When the Covid-19 pandemic started in 2020, Mabaso and the department supplied hostels facing water shortages with tanks to curb the spread of the coronavirus.

“When I arrived here 15 years ago, the hostel was dirty, buildings were collapsing and burst sewerage pipes were over the streets,” said Philile Zikalala, 38, who is proud of the changes Mabaso has brought about since taking over in 2016.

Zikalala used to run the Philile Early Learning Site, which had 23 children and employed two staff members before it closed in 2020. It was the first and only educational institution at the hostel that fed and taught children to count, read and write. It also helped grade 1 to 5 pupils with their schoolwork at no charge.

“I love kids. I feel blessed when I’m around them. They make me forget about my problems,” she said, seated on the bed in the room in which she used to teach.

Nomvula “MaRadebe” Dyanti, 52, grew up during apartheid in a family of ANC supporters in White City. They were harassed constantly by police looking for her revolutionary brother Thanduxolo, a member of Umkhonto we Sizwe.

Dyanti had always wanted her own home and recounted the difficulties she experienced moving from room to room, renting with her husband before they found an affordable place in the hostel in 1993.

“In the past, a woman would live inside the room and be treated like a housewife without being seen outside,” she recalled about the transit camp that predominantly housed men and was extremely patriarchal. When her husband was at work, she spent countless hours trapped in the tiny room, hiding from her male roommates.

She applied for an RDP house several times, but was unsuccessful.

Better than before

Minister of human settlements Mmamoloko Kubayi told the media the database for RDP houses was flawed to such a degree that the department could not tell who had exited the programme or had not been allocated homes, and the backlog could be much higher than the estimated 2.5-million houses. The department admitted its budget is constricted and the influx of people has worsened the housing problem and overcrowding.

Dyanti is an active IFP member. She is responsible for the rights of women and is fighting for their empowerment at the hostel. She and her family have been living in one of the converted family units since 2000. It consists of two bedrooms, a bathroom and an open-plan kitchen and lounge.

Dumisile Shelembe, 26, shares a room she inherited from her father with her two younger sisters. As the older sister, she lived in it before the building was renovated in 2017.

“I was constantly living in fear. The building was very dark at night and my room door could not lock,” she said while washing clothes in the kitchen and lounge space.

She likes the new building because things work satisfactorily. There are two toilets instead of one and three shower rooms instead of one that she shares with eight roommates.

“The lights are working properly and we can see one another easily. It’s very beautiful here. It is like I’m in Sandton.”

This article was first published by New Frame