Three decades of democracy have not alleviated the struggles of South Africa’s townships – the majority of them remain as dormitories of cheap labor.
How would you describe the significance of 30 years under democratic governance in South Africa? “Honestly, I think the situation just got worse than before,” says Daphne Malakwane, an elderly resident from a township south of Johannesburg.
Thirty years have passed since the end of apartheid and the meaning of democracy varies greatly across most South African townships. The legacies of the apartheid regime still perpetuate economic inequalities, evident in how spatial planning manifests in the majority of townships in Johannesburg.
The effects of apartheid segregation mean many people live far away from the greater economic hubs and township residents face hefty transport costs to access essential services like proper healthcare, quality education and employment opportunities. To access services, residents must spend money on transport to access affluent places in the cities and suburbs.
Increased numbers of unemployed youth in the township have resulted in a wave of drug addicts who have reverted to crime. Linganiso Sibabalwe, an Orange Farm resident, highlights how unsafe his neighborhood has become over the years. “Community members have learned to take matters into [their] own hands as far as the law is concerned: they no longer rely on the South African Police Services,” he says.
The birth of Johannesburg
The City of Johannesburg became the economic hub of South Africa long before the advent of apartheid. The discovery of gold in 1886 led to a gold rush that significantly affected the evolution of the city and surrounding regions, culminating in it becoming the dominant economic force in the country.
Johannesburg attracted a diverse population, drawn by the promise of wealth and economic opportunities, who shared common goals and coexisted harmoniously. However, the materialisation of apartheid in 1948 resulted in the enactment of oppressive and harsh policies mandating racial segregation and unequal laws that restricted where black, Indian and Coloured people were allowed to live and work.
Black people specifically were forcibly removed and relocated to areas known as Bantustans, which were exemplified by grim living conditions, insufficient infrastructure, and restricted access to essential services.
“The government had a name for the Bantustans back then: they used to label them as ‘labour reservoirs’. We were kept right next to the cities and mines so that we could wake up very early and go to work for the white man,” says Godfrey Baloyi, a long-time resident of Orange Farm.
International pressure and global condemnation resulted in economic sanctions and cultural boycotts against South Africa. Coupled with the internal resistance of freedom fighters, this led the government to eventually stop the unchecked brutality.
Apartheid’s racial segregation enforced rigid systems that institutionalised inequality, particularly in black communities. People living in Bantustans had restricted access to quality education, economic opportunities and quality healthcare.
With the introduction of democracy in 1994, the government aimed to restore the dignity of its people by expropriating farmland on the outskirts of the cities and converting it to township development. One of the earliest policies to promote this was the Reconstruction and Development Programme (RDP) which was tasked with rolling out low-cost housing in townships.
This entrenched socioeconomic exclusion of the poorest South Africans, confining them to the fringes of the greater city. According to Neil Klung, a senior lecturer at the University of the Witwatersrand’s School of Architecture and Planning, the government’s plan was focused on the development of houses instead of the development of integrated settlements. The unintended consequence was the reinforcement of apartheid spatial-planning patterns, which have manifested today in townships such as Orange Farm. The latter is a township based in a semi-rural, underdeveloped area, located about 40km south of Johannesburg.

Migration to Orange Farm
Orange Farm, which was established in 1989 by the former Transvaal Provincial Administration (TPA), grew to a population of more than 70 000 people by 1991. At this time the TPA, in an attempt to edge closer to black urbanisation had begun building low-cost brick houses that were offered for sale to the community. The TPA encountered significant challenges with this programme: key issues that surfaced included severe levels of poverty and unemployment, which meant buying these stands was out of reach for people migrating to Orange Farm.
Khosi Mnareng (65) a long-time Orange Farm resident, said that he lived in Pimville before he moved to his current location. Soweto was overpopulated and Mnareng felt compelled to move elsewhere if he were to provide for his family. He says: “We all came here for better economic opportunities and stable housing. Many of us got weary of being consistently displaced and relocated by the apartheid government – Orange Farm offered a sense of permanence during those times”.
But this is not the case for people who reside in Orange Farm today. When Mnareng first moved to Orange Farm, he worked on a farm to provide for his family. His wife Mary, who together with her husband, was standing in a lengthy queue waiting for their monthly pensioner’s grant, added that she came to Orange Farm because she had found a job as a domestic worker in white people’s farmhouses. She says, “At least we could resort to that as an option back then. Now that white flight has occurred, this place offers nothing in terms of economic prospects.”
Mnareng adds that the issues began when the RDP housing rolled out, which he alleges encouraged undocumented foreign nations to migrate to Orange Farm. Land designated for residential and subsidised housing projects was frequently occupied and informal settlements were constantly expanding. Mnareng alleges that the people responsible for rolling out the RDP houses were corrupt.

Inadequate infrastructure and municipal neglect
In 2018, residents of Orange Farm complained to Parliament that undocumented foreign nationals were paying R6,000 bribes to government officials to secure their own RDP houses. As yet, these complaints have not been addressed by the government. Delays in housing allocations have led to squatter camps sprouting around the township, such as in extension 10, where residents live in makeshift shacks and draw their power directly from the nearby railway system.
Malakwane (64) from extension 3 in Orange Farm tells me that the municipality has cut off her water supply and she has not had electricity for the past five years. She cannot pay her water bills due to unemployment and a lack of financial support; she has not worked for the past 17 years. “We were told by the municipality that each household must pay a fee of R500 to resolve these issues, but to date nothing has changed,” she says. “As old as I am, I must make means of survival.”
Some residents in extension 3 have not had any electricity since covid-19. Due to extreme pressures exerted on transformers through drawing electricity illegally from the power grid, several of them blew up and residents were required by the municipality to pay a penalty per household. Community members resisted, raising concerns about being required to pay a penalty although most households do not have breadwinners.
Orange Farm has not managed to transform itself into its own economic base, largely because of housing issues and a lack of social capital. Sello Modise, a political activist, says that the issue of mass black urbanisation cannot be fully dealt with if residents of Orange Farm are still living in squatter camps.
According to a brief by Parliament’s research unit, Orange Farm is a dormitory town with inadequate fundamental services and impoverished road infrastructure, which hinders efficient basic services, such as public transport and healthcare.
The municipality has not created employment opportunities for its people. The shops in the Eyethu Orange Farm Mall employ local residents, but the number of jobs available has little effect in addressing the youth unemployment in the township.
Economic and employment challenges
The nearest clusters for commerce and economic opportunities are in Lenasia and Ennerdale. Linganiso Sibabalwe, a recent graduate from North-West University, shared his insights on how it has become all but impossible to job hunt while living in Orange Farm. “Even if you make it to the interview stages, it is most likely that you will get there very late because of the distance or issues with public transport,” he says.
Sibusiso Mema has been working at Africa Loans, a financial service provider in Eyethu Mall, for almost a year now. He says it has been convenient to work near his place of residence, since he can pay R12 to take a taxi to get to work, and emphasises that some of his peers are required to travel to Johannesburg each day. According to demographic statistics on Wikipedia, 85% of people who live in Orange Farm work in Johannesburg. They all travel by minibus taxis and buses, since trains ceased operation during covid-19 due to cable theft.
Research by former journalist and anti-apartheid activist Dr Thami Mazwai found that township commuters spend 90% of their salary in the greater city, which means that there is little money circulating in the townships themselves.

Matshidiso Selepe currently works in the city of Johannesburg. She tells me she spends R84 each day to travel to and from work. She earns R6,500 a month and commutes to the city six days a week. She says, “I spend R1,680 monthly on transport alone. It is as if I am working for a taxi fare because I do not have enough money left for myself and my family. But somehow it is better than sitting at home without employment, especially here in Orange Farm where there are zero hopes of employment.”
The effects of marginalisation
The isolation and marginalisation of townships have led to higher levels of crime, unemployment, drug abuse, and illiteracy, and hinders social mobility, particularly among the youth. Crime levels have surged dramatically in Orange Farm. France Matshinye, a University of the Witwatersrand LLB student from Orange Farm commutes to Johannesburg. He says he avoids travelling very late at night in his neighborhood because of the potential violence.
The scarcity of recreational activities and deficient education systems are evident throughout the township. Themba Khumalo has lived at extension 3 of Orange Farm his whole life. He recently completed his matric and he is currently unemployed. Khumalo says the shortage of schooling facilities and unavailability of economic prospects in his area is a contributing factor to the youth idling in the streets. The idea of being landlocked in one area has created a space in which the aspirations of the young people are limited to what is within their reach. “They tend to look up to the gang members as aspirations because it is who they are exposed to daily,” Matshinye says.

Local solutions for local problems
Despite the challenges faced by Orange Farm and its residents, the township’s population is mushrooming. Action needs to be taken to address the inequalities that exist in this community. Mr. Modise is in his early 40s and has recently enrolled for a politics degree at Unisa. He believes there is hope for Orange Farm and that the only people who can solve its problems are those who live there.
The local municipality says it is aware of the issues in Orange Farm, and has put initiatives in place to combat them.
When I ask Bongani Ndlovu, a community leader in Orange Farm, about such initiatives made to upscale the community’s economy, he mentions the concept of social capital and developing value chains, neither of which have been championed so far. According to Ndlovu, these two concepts have been a big challenge, particularly in a township as culturally divided as Orange Farm. He adds, “The initiatives have only been executed better in taverns, basically places which add no value to the youth.”
Despite being neglected by the municipality, many young people have taken matters into their own hands and informal businesses are sprouting up around Orange Farm. Ndlovu is running an initiative that seeks to strengthen existing businesses in his neighbourhood by hosting social markets where small businesses showcase their products to the community. “I believe that this is one of the ways local residents can create their own economy in Orange Farm,” he says.
FEATURED IMAGE: A common informal business in Orange Farm townships. Photo: Salim Nkosi
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