Staffrider Vol.3 No.1 Feb 1980 - DISA

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VOICES FROMTHE GHETTO:Kwa Mashu SpeakingSpeaking: Mrs M. of Kwa Mashu, born in 1926 in the Districtof Umbumbulu, Natal South Coast, interviewed in July 1979by A. Manson and D. Collins of the Killie Campbell AfricanaLibrary Oral History Programme.FROM CATO MANOR TO KWA MASHUIn 1950 I married and went to stay in Cato Manor . . .In 1959 they started sending us to places like Kwa Mashuand Umlazi. Most people started to run away at that time,some to Inanda, others to a place somewhere at Isipingowhich was called, translated into English, "when you see apoliceman, you have to run, and then when the policeman isgone you come back and do what you like and build yourhome."iLIFE AT CATO MANORIn Cato Manor the laws were very flexible. My husbandand I were running a shack shop. Though we were workingin town, we would come home to do the shop. We wereforever being arrested, but I can see now that we were moreunited there than we have ever been here (Kwa Mashu.)I stayed in Cato Manor for many years, and I can assureyou — we always discuss these things — that if today theywere to say yes, we would go back, even though it was aslum.It must be remembered that, before, it was a slum*with nosite and service. You know that. Well, the life was very free,people were very co-operative with one another. Youcouldn't come and kill somebody for nothing. We used to seethat there was something happening that side. We'd all rushto go and help that somebody. We'd be beating the ... It wasjust like that, honestly. I used to hear people who had neverbeen to Cato Manor say, "Hau. Were you at Cato Manor?"Because today, believe me, I don't go about here at KwaMashu in the evening, because my life would be gone. Yousee. So myself, I don't see anything good here in these townships.There — I'm talking as if — because Cato Manor wasjust a homely place, you know. In those slums, squatters'camps as you call them now, we had that spirit of humourfrom one another. Here, I discover that people in these fourroomeds— I don't know whether they are polluted by them— they don't know their neighbours. Honestly, I don't knowmy neighbours but I'm here, you can just imagine, from1959! Nobody cares for anyone here, and even if a person iscrying — my dogs are doing a lot of work sometimes. Whensomebody cries (imitation of a scream) — tsotsis, you know,pickpocketing, slaughtering someone, I have to release mydogs. Otherwise the life here . . . myself, I say that in CatoManor we were much better, because of unity which I thinkis very important. Here, honestly, nobody cares for any otherperson.For me, I don't like it, that is not the spirit of we Africans.I don't know whether it is because I was born onthe farm where that spirit is existing, you know, to careabout the person on the other side, is he happy and if not,what happened there. We used even to hear the bell ringing.There are some signs that people use on the farm. If that bellrings and then stops, and then rings and then stops, oh, weknow that there was somebody who had passed away.Definitely: if I was ploughing or whatever I was doing, we'dleave that straight away. And then we'd have to go and ask"Who is dead? Somebody has passed away. Did you hear thatbell ringing from the church?" It was a sign telling the peoplethat somebody had passed away. Here, it is most appalling tome, seeing a coffin passing. They don't care what it is. So Idon't think life here in the townships is as good, ja.What kind of social activities did you have at Cato Manor?In Catq Manor people used to, we used to . . . There waspolitics, in the first place. There was too much of ANC inthose days, but those people were very much united, honestly.We used to hear a sound which told us that there wassomething wrong. We'd have to touch one another, that,now, something's happening, what's happening now? Andthen, there, we used to gather. That was politics, of course.Then, in the line of the welfare: people, as I say, werebrewing gavine, shimiyana, everything. They were very rich,compared to -the people here in the township. We used toorganize ourselves to help those children who came fromvery poor people, to serve them with some milk, you know,just to end this kwashiokor in the township. And we used toparticipate — there were schools there. We used to gather aswomen to discuss our problems. That was when the DurbanCorporation started to give us site and service. Becausebefore, as you know, there was nothing like latrines or wateror anything. You used to go there to the Umkumbane —washing, drinking, all those things. Our children were gettingdiarrhorea a lot. Through those meetings of ours, I think, theDurban City Councillors got the idea of this site and service,and gave us some plans. It was L, U, you know, then youbuild your own. But they were nicely built because there wasthis plan which we were given, free of charge, by the DurbanCity Councillors. This is why I always ask why don't theydo it to these people that are on next-door Richmond Farmand Inanda, in those squatters' camps, you know, becausepeople will build in a better way if they are given thatprivilege, and given site and service. They may not buildbeautiful houses, but a simple, nice good pattern with a siteand service, you know. These are important things becausethe population explosion is here.THE SHACK SHOPSWhich area did you live in? Did you live in any specificarea in Cato Manor like Shumville?We started in a place called Mangaroo. Then from MangarooI went up to Newlook. Newlook. That was the name ofthe shack shop I was running at Umkumbane. It was less thanthis (indicating the room). It was just an open four-walls withno ceiling.You must remember Cato Manor was owned by Indiansbefore. I think that an Indian merchant had been trying tobuild a shop. Then there were those riots and the peoplekilled those — they were killing everybody, burning everything.So those four walls were just left unfinished, with noroof inside. That was in Newlook. So my husband had tomove there. Nobody had to tell us, we just moved, youknow.And then Bourquin* was too clever. There were some bigIndian shops there. He said, 'Oh, no, you people, if you wantto enter these shops now, come and negotiate with me. Butfor myself, it was just an open four-wall room at Newlook.'But life there at Cato Manor, honestly, it was a very sweet2 STAFFRIDER, FEBRUARY <strong>1980</strong>
*^:. M —leVitamin,1 v-f§|%' ^?K^^>LsSi: : *w ?i* ~life, I must be honest.RESISTANCEKwa Mashuphotos, GraceSo you didn 't want to move?No. Actually a lot of people resisted the removing. Andyou know — you must know — that we were removed bySaracens. I still have that in my mind and in my dreams.Some of the people were at work, and then here come thepolicemen, here come the soldiers with those Saracens, andthen they just take all your things in that manner, you know,and shove it on those big government lorries, those for war,and then they just bulldoze your house, just like that. Whenthese men came I remember one night a man knocked andwe were so much afraid, yes. And then he says, "I'm lookingfor my number." This man had been to Cato Manor. He haddiscovered that now his house was just flattened. You see.This was the very thing which touched me. In Cato Manor.The way we were removed. Because we were resisting, wewere saying, "We are happy here."A NEW LIFEWhen you arrived in Kwa Mashu, it must have been verydifferent?Ja, it's changed our lives. We had to live now another life.I don't know how I can put it. Whether it is Western civilizationor culture I don't know, because to me, I may becivilized but I don't want to become cut off from my customsand my culture. Some are very good and I admire them.I still relate to my children, you know, what life was like onthe farm. I want them to know all these things. And here,I'm not very happy, actually, because people seem to haveforgotten their customs and culture, such things. But well,things are changing, maybe I'm outdated, I don't know. Wehave to live with such things. But there are some people whoare just like me, who are interested in seeing to it that wedon't run away from our culture — though we can inherityour Western civilization. There are some parts of yourculture that are good, but I still say that there are some partsof our culture and customs which are very good.When you moved here, did the people from Cato ManorSTAFFRIDER, FEBRUARY <strong>1980</strong>Roome/Durbanall come to one area?Actually, many people came here to Kwa Mashu butmany of them were not very quick to adjust themselves tothis life. Others, they stayed here for a few months or sixmonths, then they jumped off to go build those 'squatters' atInanda. They were real Cato Manor people, Umkumbanepeople. Because there were so many laws to deal with now,in a somebody's four-roomed. Then, in Cato Manor, we werenot even paying for this water. And you see the life changedtotally, became too expensive a life, you know. And thenthey couldn't tolerate it, they said; "Oh no, I better go andstart another Umkumbane further out here," you know,rather than pay this water. If I don't pay the rent I'm beingtold that, "Well, we've got to kick you out." There weresome policemen harassing us in the township. Peoplecouldn't do what they were doing in Cato Manor andcouldn't brew all those things which I've mentioned. So lifechanged completely for some people. They said, "Ugh, lifehere! Because there is somebody who is on our shoulders. Itshows that this is not your land, this is not your house, younever paid a thing over it, you just pay rent." And so theyjumped off.Was there any friction between the people who came toKwa Mashu from the different areas? Was there squabblingbetween the people from the different places?Here at Kwa Mashu? No, no. There wasn't at all, becausethose who knew one another from Cato Manor, we used tomake friends with them, you know. There was no squabbling.But there was too much of poverty, I should call itnow because they were not doing what they knew how to doand felt like doing. There was a lot of house-breaking andtheft. It happened to those who wake up very early in themorning to go to town and work. They used to have theirhomes burgled. That was the thing that was happening here.Did a lot of people who had previously not worked haveto go out and work now?No, I think it was just people taking a chance, now thathere we were in a new township. Everything was new. Ja, itwas just one of those things.*A well-known 'Native 3 , then 'Bantu'Administrator in Natal3
Page 1 and 2: Volume Three Number One February 19
Page 3: Vol. 3 No.1 Contents February 1980S
Page 7 and 8: five' to George Goch passed Mzimhlo
Page 9 and 10: Profile/Modikwe DikobeModikwe Dikob
Page 11 and 12: Poetry/SowetoAllahpoetsTwo Poemsby
Page 13 and 14: Poetry/Johannesburg"HISTORY WILL AB
Page 16 and 17: a storyby Nape'aMotanaIllustratedby
Page 18 and 19: Poetry/Swaziland, Lesotho, NamibiaM
Page 20 and 21: Gallery ProfileBehind the Lens: JUD
Page 22 and 23: The Slumbering SpiritA short story
Page 24 and 25: ing him from doing anything dangero
Page 26 and 27: Staff rider GalleryWilliam Kentridg
Page 28 and 29: Poetry/Sibasa, ThembisaGUYO BOOK CL
Page 30 and 31: Poetry/ DurbanFor My Brothers(Mandl
Page 32: Staff rider Drama/BotswanaChief Mem
Page 36 and 37: CHANGATEALL SUB-CHIEFS:MEMWE:MAMANJ
Page 38 and 39: FIRST W.:IMI:MAKENOSI:FIRST W.:SECO
Page 40 and 41: I am not heartless at all.MAMANJI:
Page 42 and 43: TWO-DIMENSIONALA story by Ahmed Ess
Page 44 and 45: allowed his spirit to be drenched b
Page 46 and 47: Women writersNOKUGCINA SIGWILI WRIT
Page 48 and 49: Children's Sectionmm
Page 50 and 51: IMAGESGeorge Hallet's Images and Ja
Page 52: ALSO RIDING: Abangani, Ailahpoets,

Staffrider Vol.3 No.1 Feb 1980 - DISA

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