We were down to our last few slices of bread on Tuesday morning when I absent-mindedly asked my husband to grab a loaf from the convenience store around the corner.
Hazy from lack of sleep thanks to the gunfire and explosions ringing out in my neighbourhood, I had forgotten shops were shut because of wanton looting and destruction in Durban since Sunday.
It’s all said to be in the name of the “FreeJacobZuma” movement and has seen an escalation in criminality since Sunday.
With every shot fired, shop looted, home invaded, building burnt and loved one living in fear, my anxiety levels had gone through the roof.
The inability to access a staple food item felt as if it would tip me over the edge.
Never have I been so stressed about a loaf of bread, especially after being informed by colleagues and neighbours that queues at shops that dared to open in the most hostile time this city has ever faced were endless and stocks low.
My anxiety over the absence of this all-important carbohydrate — particularly because I’m not noted for my baking talents — was not unwarranted.
Never have I been so stressed about a loaf of bread, especially after being informed by colleagues and neighbours that queues at shops were endless and stocks were low.
— Suthentira Govender, reporter
We drove from one fuel station convenience shop to the next with no luck.
I didn’t have the strength to join a snaking queue at what seemed the only supermarket open in the area, already inundated with those eager to stockpile.
The roads were lined with cars, their occupants all with the same goal — finding daily essentials.
As I joined another line, this time at a little corner spaza shop, I realised I was not alone in my fears about possible food insecurity.
A young woman who had driven from North Beach to Morningside in search of essentials told me she was terrified of the prospect of not having access to groceries.
“We usually don’t buy groceries because we love takeaways. We never anticipated that we would find ourselves in this situation. Our cupboards are bare and we have been driving around for a while trying to find a few essentials.
“I’m terrified. If we could just get some bread we could have peanut butter and cheese sandwiches. But bread is a huge challenge in Durban right now,” she said.
Another Durban resident, Bula Workneh, looked defeated after hearing bread and milk were unavailable.
“I have been driving around since this morning for these things. It’s frightening that I can’t even get a loaf of bread.
“I need some eggs and cheese as well to get me through the next few days. I guess I have to keep searching.
“It’s been so tough these past few days. We are just living in fear not knowing what is going to happen next. Now we are facing this challenge of food.”
Pensioner Mike, who refused to give his surname, accused the government of failing its people.
“I’m not here to stockpile, but I need my toast.”
I was ready to give up on my bread quest after hearing the stories of doom and gloom, when I spotted an elated couple, their arms laden with bread rolls.
In hushed tones, they pointed my husband and I to a white car down the road where a woman was selling them for R5 a pack.
My husband emerged victorious from the mini bunfight with a few packs that should tide us over until our next bread mission.
Next dilemma? Where to get milk.
