There is a harmony of taxis hooting, gospel music playing and local traders shouting, “Ice! Ice!” in the air. The stench of rotting vegetables and fried potato chips is inescapable.
Shops are tightly squashed next to each other on every block. On the sidewalk are rows and rows of black women sitting underneath umbrellas and selling vegetables, all at the same price. These are the sounds, smells and sights of town in Kliptown.
Walking west, past the city centre the harmony gets quieter and quieter. A different stench of sewage assaults the nostrils and the amount of people walking around decreases.
Shops turn into shacks and shacks turning into small homes along the roads. Every once in a while, one can see murals painted on the walls.
On Beacon Street, “Pots and gas stoves rented here,” is written on one of the houses and “Shafiek’s General Works” is written on another.
The house that has “Shafiek’s General Works” is painted in pink and green, with a shiny silver gate. It is slotted comfortably between another pink house and a glass cutting business. The mural on the wall has a phone number and a crude drawing on a geyser and tap on the sides.
Upon walking into the home, on the right is a dark bedroom. The room is filled with the smell of burning incense and reggae music playing softly in the background. There is an Islamic mat hanging on the window and, below it is a shelf with the Quran, many tools and a Dragon energy drink. Below the shelf is a small bed. All along the walls, are shelves holding hammers, electrical drills, wood glue and other tools.
SPECIALISING: Shafiek’s General Works owned by Koobatialian Abdulla.
The occupant of the room is Koobatialian Abdulla, also known as Shafiek and he is the programme manager of Shafiek’s General Works. The 64-year-old started his business in November 2016, with his daughter and friend.
Abdulla is one of many Kliptown residents who started a business and run it from their homes.
“It’s like an enterprise. We can repair doors, ceilings and we build carports. We can fix your geyser and do your plumbing. At the moment I am here [home] and I am using it as my office and I want to start building up Shafiek’s General Works,” he says.
Abdulla sits on his bed. His hands are wrinkly and weathered from a lifetime of physical work.
He is wearing a navy jacket and brown trousers. His shoes are covered in dust and dirt and on his head is a short, rounded skullcap.
Abdulla was born in Kliptown in 1953 and was raised in the location. He attended a trading school in the Eldorado Park, where he received a welding qualification. After leaving high school, he would go on to work as a welder. Abdulla picked up skills in his many different jobs, including ship repairs in Angola and construction work.
Shafiek started his business at home because he was too old and sickly to do contracted work in contruction and welding. Shafiek did not want to let it go and started his own business and run it from home.
“There came a time when my age and health couldn’t allow me to go further and I had a chest condition. I was paid off and told ‘You’re not fit to go to any other place’ and that’s why I’m doing my own thing and doing this on my own,” says Abdulla.
Not far from Shafiek’s General Works, one can see another mural on a wall. The mural says “Marlon’s Take-Away” with paintings of a kota (a hollowed out quarter loaf of bread, filled with a variety of ingredients, often chips, cheese, polony and egg with atchar) at the top and deep fried chips at the bottom. Marlon’s Take Away is owned by Marlon Webster. He started a business in the home that he was born (in 1986) and raised in.
The Webster home has a small room in front of the kitchen. The wall direct opposite the door has a deep fryer. The deep fryer is not being attended to but sizzles as potato pieces turn into French fries. Next to the door is a deep freezer with ice lollies or “chuppas” as it is called. Above is a shelf with an array of sauces and spices.
Inside the kitchen is a large refrigerator that is full of two litres of soft drinks, along with other groceries of the family. Hanging on the side of the fridge, are large packets holding small NikNaks and other chips. On top of the fridge is a variety of different sweets and biscuits.
SWEET TOOTH: Stock of sweets sold by trader in Virginia McDonald’s yard.
No money, more problems
It is a 12pm on a Wednesday and the heat is almost suffocating in front of Marlon’s Take Away. Two men are lounging in front of the Webster garage occasionally slipping on Sprite, talking to each other and occasionally chatting to the people who walk by. The men have been there since the morning and will probably stay until the evening.
A scene like this is not unusual in Kliptown. Many people can be seen sitting outside their homes, chatting with their neighbours, instead of being at work. This scene is normal because of the high unemployment rate in the area. Unemployment is one of the reasons why Webster and Abdulla started businesses in their homes.
According to the Quarterly Labour Force Survey released by Stats SA on August 7, the current national unemployment rate is 27, 75%. The same report stated that the unemployment rate in City of Johannesburg Metropolitan Municipality (where Kliptown falls under) is 27, 2%. According to, City of Johannesburg 2012/16 Integrated Development Plan, the current population rate in the municipality is about 4 400 000.
“I started the business because I was unemployed and life was tough. So I figured that I’d trying something on my own,” says Webster.
He does not have qualification and his odd jobs like fixing roofs did not allow for a constant flow of money.
One of the other reasons why businesses are run in homes is lack of capital to afford to rent out a shop space in the area, says Webster.
“I have no money to rent a place for the business. It is just easier to run it from here at home,” he says.
Despite the high unemployment rate and lack of capital, business owners are making opportunities for themselves and others.
Business owners like Virginia McDonald, also known as Ma Lulu. The 60-year-old Kliptown resident owns a take-away business that is currently on hold for renovation next year. McDonald also lets other businesses use her yard to trade and operate their businesses.
“You don’t need to wait for the government or your children to come and give you what they feel like giving you,” she says.
Keep it in the community
The home run business owners of Kliptown chose to keep it in the community in regards to stock purchasing, marketing and customer base.
“I get my stock from the Kit Kat down the road. Or I’ll stock from the Pakistani and Muslim shops by the square,” says Webster. Kit Kat Cash and Carry is a franchise similar to Macro where they sells bulk merchandise and bulk purchases.
Most of the customers that Webster receives are members of the Kliptown community. His customers is also why he started the take-away in his home. Webster has a lifelong relationship established with the community.
“I grew up here. People know me and they know that this is my tuckshop,” he says.
Speaking in IsiZulu, neighbour and customer of Marlon’s Take Away, Sehlabo Tsiu says, “We buy cold drinks, snacks, biscuits and chips from Marlon. The shop is open in the evening and we buy. Other customers also come, even if it’s 11pm and it’s safe.”
“We buy some cold drink there, fish and chips and bread and Russians. They are doing well and we can buy nearby instead of going far away,” says another neighbour and customer, Joseph Sithole.
Admin and paperwork
The procedure when licencing and getting your home zoned to run business there occurs at the City of Johannesburg, Land Use Management office. They released a Land Use Scheme draft on June 7.
According to the Land Use Scheme, spazas or house shops like Webster’s and McDonald’s are required to submit a written consent application with notification of the “direct adjacent neighbours”. The exercising of the spaza should exclusively be for the owner/occupant living in the house.
“I used to sell food before, so I’m waiting to get the papers and stuff and fix the place so I can open up something like a restaurant and selling food,” says McDonald about her future plans with her business. They will need to be approved by the council.
According to the Land Use Scheme, not more than “25% of the built floor area of the dwelling house/ unit or 36 metres square may be used for non-residential purposes in total.”
The Land Use Scheme also states that, the displays on the fences or building that advertise the name, occupation and telephone numbers that are currently on all three of the homes are permitted in compliance with outdoor advertising by-law.
McDonald says that her children are currently trying to get her business licensed so she can expand and renovate her shop.
“Inspectors must come and inspect your house and come check if the place is alright for what you are doing. I understand that the food or health inspectors will be doing that but my son is still busy,” she says.
Moving on and up?
Abdulla is planning on moving Shafiek’s General Works out of his house and set up shop near his home.
“I’m here every day. I’m not unemployed anymore, I’m self-employed. Operating is a very slow from the house, it goes very slow. And I hope to do much better than this when I do move into the other place,” he says.
According to him, Shafiek’s only has three or four customers a month, depending on the job.
On the other hand, McDonald has no intention to move her business out of her home.
“I feel that my house is safe and if they [customers] don’t want to take a take-away, they can sit. If they want to use the toilet, they can use the one in the house,” she says.
“I’m more comfortable here because of my age also. For me to be moving around and my age doesn’t allow it. Next year I will be 60-years-old and I just want to keep myself busy.”
Individuals like Abdulla, Webster and McDonald are actively using the resources and structures available to them to make opportunities for themselves and others. Individuals like them are what make Kliptown, Kliptown. They strive push past the obstacles of poverty and unemployment in the area and embody the spirit of hustle, hustle, hustle.
Still like this
The sun is setting over Kliptown. People are beginning to slowly trickle from town towards the houses and shacks. The hustle and bustle in town has almost come to a standstill while traders pack up their stands.
The harmony has toned down to only the sound of taxis hooting, as people shuffle to return to their homes outside of Kliptown. The stench of rotting vegetable is still in the air.
The vegetable ladies pack away their produce and draped their stands with large plastic covers. Lone tomatoes and onions roll around the floor, either waiting to be kicked or stepped on by the rushing commuters. The shop owners have switched the lights and music off.
The pack away their products displayed outside. A “ddddrrrrr” sound can be heard as they slam closed their awnings and snap the locks shut.
The town has simmered down to a standstill. The streets are almost empty as everyone settles for the evening. Kliptown is still. It will remain like this until the sun rises tomorrow morning and the hustle of Kliptown and its people starts again.
FEATURED IMAGE: Marlon Webster looks over his work station. Photo: Chulumanco Mahamba.
I sat alone and watched TV. What a feeling can’t be changed. As they say a smile won’t catch your eye. So goodbye, goodbye, goodbye to loving. Let us be loving…” a deep female voice, hitting all the high notes, blares from a speaker in a room filled with plastic and wooden chairs piled on top of one another on a stage. Rectangle framed windows painted white and grey walls painted with people on them. The song blaring from the speakers is Alice Russel’s Let us be Loving.
Ever so gracefully, gliding across the wooden floors like skaters on ice. Their bodies move in sync, to the rhythm of the beat. Though they are one. Arms poised up, feet flat with toes pointed out and in one swift but smooth motion, their bodies find another elegant and composed position.
Their movements mirroring each other’s gracefulness at Uncle Tom’s Community Centre in Orlando West, Soweto. It is a sunny spring Wednesday morning. Dressed in black shorts and a red vest, Douglas Sekete, 44, and wearing Hello Kitty top and tights, Candice Eustice, 33 are the pair gliding across the wooden floors.
STEP 1,2,3: Left, Candice Eustice led in dance by, Right, Douglas Sekete.
The song changes and the pair move to another dance routine. This time it is a contemporary tango routine which they are rehearsing for a show in 2018. The name of the show has not been decided yet, but it will be held at the Fringe theatre says Sekete.
“Leg flip and then head turn. In the same direction,” instructs Sekete as the pair firmly hold each other’s shoulders. They stop dancing as he decides which choreography to use next in his newly choreographed routine.
Their faces filled with relaxation and concentration at the same time. Sweat drips down the side of their heads as they twirl around each other. “Give me your finger,” laughs Eustice as she tries to twirl around Sekete in one motion.
Aha, so that’s how a flawless twirl comes about. The lead dancer sticks out a finger as his/her partner grabs onto it and spins themselves around, using their partners finger as a guide.
And moving from a twirl, Sekete swiftly yet graciously moves into a squatting position as Eustice swings her arms to the left, placing her hands onto Sekete’s hip.
His hands meet her hips at the peak of the cartwheel and swings her over his squatting legs, finishing the motion. It is just the two of them today.
The other dancers could not make it explains Sekete. “It is that time of the year when everyone is busy at work,” he says.
Uncle Tom’s Community Centre
The community centre has been in Orlando West “since 1955,” says artistic director of Soweto Dance Project, Carly Dibakwane. He adds that contemporary dance began in Soweto in 1977.
Contemporary dance began in town. Town being Johannesburg City. Contemporary dance was taken by one of the first performing arts schools, Federation Union of Black Arts (FUBA), to the Meadowlands, Soweto, he explains.
Dibakwane says that the dancers there had been influenced by contemporary dance. “The ‘Pantsula’ dance started after 1976. It was a form of resistance [against apartheid]. People danced in very small spaces and that is why the dance steps are restricted,” he says.
Dance tutor Thabang Mpooa, from Orlando East explains that after the 1976 uprising, history repeated itself in 1986 with “toi toing” (protesting).
“Initially we tried to move away from the toi tois. So we formed our own organisation on the side. We used to join the toi tois and then sneak around and go into halls and dance,” says Moopa.
Meet the dancers
Sekete grew up in Soweto and is currently staying in Orlando West, Soweto. He has been a contemporary dance instructor of the Koketso Dance Project, at the centre, for the past seven years.
As a child, he was exposed to dancing at “Shebeens” (Tavern), traditional dancing at weddings, at the men’s hostels and at Uncle Tom’s Community Centre. “I used to come to this very same place [Uncle Tom’s community Centre]. They used to do your Salsa dance and your Samba’s. It was more of a social gathering,” he explains.
Sekete started dancing at age 14 with an organisation called Kopano. “It’s a funny story but I used to watch the musical Fame and I was fascinated by the male lead dancer,” says Sekete.
The lead dancer showed Sekete that it was possible for him to dance and that the colour of your skin does not matter, he smiles as he explains why he started dancing.
“It is a fusion of many dance forms,” says Sekete. Now he is talking about contemporary dance. It is never stagnant, there is no set choreography and the dances change with time he adds. We use spaces and to us [dancers] everything is a performance.
Sekete does not consider contemporary dancing a dance but rather a “movement.”
Eustice, a quiet looking young woman, has been dancing for the past 30 years. “I started dancing because my mum was a dancer. I went with her to class and watched her dancing. She did modern dancing.
I just joined in her class and eventually I went to the proper 3-year-old classes,” she says as she takes a sip of her Caffè Mocha from Starbucks.
Eustice travels from Marlands, Germiston to Soweto to dance because she says “There isn’t really a lot of contemporary [dance] companies. They’re either all in town or in Soweto.
There’s nothing on my side, it’s all more for children but not for professional dancers. If I want to dance, I’ve got to travel.”
She says that dancing in Soweto is different to dancing in the suburbs because the dancers are like a family in Soweto. Where she comes from, not all the “dancers are nice because they are very competitive,” she adds.
The pieces performed in Soweto and from where Eustice stays, differ. In Soweto, more African contemporary pieces are performed “because they’ve [ the dancers in Soweto] got that style in them, whereas if you do contemporary in another company, it is more trained,” adds Eustice.
She dances African contemporary but teaches ballet. Ballet is her favourite but says she does not “have the physique” for it. Dancing makes her feel like she is “alive”.
CHARACTERISE: Nceba Sitokwe gets into his character during rehearsals.
The six members of the Koketso Dance Project do not compete. Instead, these professional dancers perform in shows in theatres across South Africa and in some parts of the world. Sekete has performed in Austria, in the musical African Footprint in South Africa and performed at the National Arts Festival in Grahamstown.
Having performed contemporary dance in Malaysia, Senegal and Angola, Nceba Sitokwe is one of the dancers from Koketso Dance Project. It is late afternoon and Sitokwe is inside Mavis Hall in White City teaching contemporary dance to the youth of White City, Soweto.
Arms stretched out to his sides, his right leg points towards the right, while the left point straight. Sitokwe leads his young students in dance as he uses the space in front of him. His body free and in tune with the character he is depicting in the art performance.
Sitokwe grew up in White City, Soweto and schooled at Isiseko Primary, Thubelihle Secondary School and Ibhongo High School. Growing up in White City was “very hard.” “Especially in a township like Soweto. It was very rough,” he says. He never had the privilege of having career guidance and had to “hustle” for himself.
Even though Sitokwe had to “hustle” his way through life, his mum, Ida Sitokwe, says that he was a “good boy and always happy.” She is proud of her young son dancing and has always supported him. “I nearly cried [when she saw him perform], I was so happy,” she says with a big smile on her face as she wipes her hands over her face.
“He transforms ey. He becomes the character and the Nceba that we know… I remember one day we were at Uncle Tom’s hall and they were doing a play about the traditional healers. So I could see my mum tried to get his attention but he was so into his character [he did not see her]. So after the performance I asked him what happened? He [Nceba] says ‘no, I have to be in the character’,” says his older brother, Mzwandile Santi, as he smiles with pride for his younger brother.
Sitokwe has been dancing since he was 15 years old.
“I was never interested in dancing. Then one day I went to play with my friend, the one who owns Ubhule Mvelo, and there, I found myself dancing amongst the other guys,” explains Sitokwe as he frowns from the afternoon sun hitting his face.
He learnt the technical skills of dancing at Moving into Dance (MID) in 2011.
MID is dance company situated in Newton, Johannesburg.
He completed his studies at the end of 2011 and then went onto training as a choreographer in 2012 and dance instructor in 2013, all at MID.
FREE SPIRITED: Nceba Sitokwe is a professional choreographer and dancer.
Contemporary dance in Soweto
Contemporary dance is affordable, unlike ballet or another technical dance. Ballet and other dances are expensive to learn as they are often only taught at companies which parents cannot afford to send their children to, explains Sitokwe.
“In terms of ballet and other dances, you must pay a certain amount to learn them and most of the parents cannot afford that,” says Sitokwe. Hence, contemporary dancing meets what the parents can afford.
The reason there are no dance companies in Soweto is “A private dance company implies that people [the students] who are part of it pay for the service that you [ the dance instructor] are going to render.
The socio-economic situation in Soweto does not allow for that to happen. In addition, one would need the proper infrastructure and fully equipped dance studios, competent staff etc,” says consultant in performing arts David April at MID. He adds that not all dance companies are private, and they rely on fundraising to manage their “operations”.
Sitokwe charges the dance companies nothing above R4000 per month to teach the youngsters in White City. He also teaches ballet classes, on Saturdays, at Uncle Tom’s Community Centre, where he charges a R50 administration fee and R150 per month.
The class is multi-racial, and he says that it keeps the children occupied, away from drugs and the wrong crowds.
Tshepo Mahlake, 23, a professional dancer who is part of a dance group called Genetic Movers began dancing in 2007. He says “I wouldn’t have finished school if it weren’t for dance. I was in the wrong crowd but when I danced, I saw the potential I had and became a regular dancer.”
Dressing up
Costumes worn during performances depend on the piece that is performed, says Sitokwe. “The last performance we did was Malachai. It [the costume] was a beige short and a twisted rope here,” he demonstrates that the twisted rope ran across his chest.
In one show, he did a Ndebele dance fused with contemporary dance, where he wore a shirt and a pants.
COLOURS: The shirt that was used in the performance of the Ndebele and contemporary dance.
Challenges faced by the dancers
There are problems that dance instructors and dancers encounter with dance in Soweto. There aren’t proper dancing facilities, enough funding and Soweto dancers do not get recognised if they perform in Soweto.
“Using Uncle Tom’s, it’s a shit space number one. It does not belong to me, it belongs to the community. So at times we’ll come here for rehearsals and the venue will be booked for something else,” says Sekete.
Sitokwe says “If you are in Soweto most of the time, you don’t get recognised.” He explains that if you have been trained by a dancer in in Soweto and you tell people in companies that you have been trained by a name they do not recognise, people get skeptical. “That’s the most difficult part,” he says.
Despite these issues, the fusion in these dancer’s feet have carried them through and when these vibrant personalities, from different walks of life, from different places in Johannesburg, who share the same passion are not using spaces and making a sea of flawless waves; they are people walking among you and I.
They are massage therapists, mums and reserved dancers who go out with their friends and chill at home.
FEATURED IMAGE: Nceba Sitokwe gets into his character during rehearsals. Photo: Juwairiyyah Jeena. RELATED STORIES:
Kliptown, established in 1903, is the oldest residential area in Soweto. The town holds a rich history, attracting several tourists to the area where the South African freedom charter was adopted, but a contrast between the business district and the residential area means different things for Kliptown business owners who rely on tourism.
The sleek white Mercedes minibus reaches a halt in the middle of Walter Sisulu Square in Kliptown, south of Johannesburg. The American occupants step off and walk into the sunlight wearing hats, sunglasses and holding cameras.
They are on a Soweto tour and will see the Regina Mundi church, Hector Pieterson museum, former president Nelson Mandela’s house, the homes of Nobel Peace prize winner Archbishop Emeritus Desmond Dube as well as the Apartheid Museum and Gold Reef City. The tourists walk directly towards a short but plump man standing outside a tower which is a monument marking the square where the Freedom Charter was drawn up in 1955.
Enock Ngwambe is the short plump man welcoming the tourists in preparation to show them around the Walter Sisulu Square of Dedication. The square was opened on June 26, 2005, in commemoration of 50 years of freedom in collaboration with development agency, Blue IQ and Johannesburg Development Agency (JDA).
The square is divided into three parts. On the eastern wing is a structure built for businesses, hosting an art center, clothing stores, internet cafés, a dance studio and restaurant among other ventures. On the west wing is a closed off marketplace set up for informal traders selling fresh produce, clothing and CD’s among other things.
Enock Ngwambe is the short plump man welcoming the tourists in preparation to show them around the Walter Sisulu Square of Dedication. The square was opened on June 26, 2005, in commemoration of 50 years of freedom in collaboration with development agency, Blue IQ and Johannesburg Development Agency (JDA).
The square is divided into three parts. On the eastern wing is a structure built for businesses, hosting an art center, clothing stores, internet cafés, a dance studio and restaurant among other ventures. On the west wing is a closed off marketplace set up for informal traders selling fresh produce, clothing and CD’s among other things.
Ngwambe walks the group to a small museum where the tour begins with The People Shall Govern Exhibition. Ngwambe has been working as a museum guide for the City of Johannesburg for the past ten years, providing visitors with knowledge on the South African Freedom Charter and its significance in Kliptown.
He starts the exhibition tour, showing tourists examples of Dompas books, original documents that citizens submitted as proposals for the freedom charter, the large metal pots women cooked in, the history of the Jada family who allowed delegates to use their property and explains who the metal figures representing apartheid struggle veterans are.
He starts the exhibition tour, showing tourists examples of Dompas books, original documents that citizens submitted as proposals for the freedom charter, the large metal pots women cooked in, the history of the Jada family who allowed delegates to use their property and explains who the metal figures representing apartheid struggle veterans are.
Hereafter, he leads the group back out into the sunlight to the tall tower, The Freedom Charter Monument. The monument has four diagonal entrances forming the ‘x’sign used to vote during elections, this ‘x’ sign also shines through from the top of the tower.
The group walk around the granite circle reading the engraved ten clauses of the freedom charter. Hereafter, Ngwambe introduces the tourists to a site-guide, Vusi Ngcobo, who takes the group into the community over the railway line that divides the residential and business district along with other Swiss and Swedish visitors.
OVER THE RAILWAY: Kliptown’s residential area AS SEEN from the bridge over the railway line.
The tour of the residential part of Kliptown allows tourists to get a sense of the lived experience of the majority of those who live in Kliptown as 85% of all housing units in Kliptown are informal makeshift shacks according to a study by Himlin, Engel and Matoho (2008).
Following slowly behind the group Ngwambe says to me, “Life’s not good on this side, people are suffering.”
By now, we’re standing on the bridge across the road from the open-air museum. There is a sharp contrast between the business district and the residential area as we overlook several zinc makeshift homes which are divided by sand paths.
“It’s actually an embarrassment that tourists come to the square and then see the way people live,” he says. “See?” he signals, pointing towards a large yard with five mkhuku’s (shacks). “You can see the toilets are outside of the yard and people have to leave their homes to fetch water from communal taps.”
The Johannesburg Development Agency’s 2004 business plan to enhance heritage, education, and tourism outlines Kliptown’s development. It states that the reason the town lacks infrastructure and resources is because it fell outside of the boundaries of the Johannesburg municipality until 1970. As a result, Kliptown, unlike the greater Soweto did not gain the development resources such as transport networks, electricity, water and sanitation.
To improve development, the marketing vision for Kliptown, according to JDA was “to position the area as a living symbol for change in South Africa.” Additionally, their mission was to “attract and harness the power of tourism to help turn the community of Kliptown into a massive economic generator.”
Ngwambe says that although tourists visit Kliptown on their tour of Soweto, there’s not much that they can do for the people who are struggling.
“Sometimes they make donations, it’s small amounts from individuals like R50 so families can buy food for one day,” he says, “but after that one meal? What happens tomorrow when tourists don’t come?” he asks. His question hangs in the air like the Izinyoka cables [illegally connected electricity lines].
As the group walks through the shacks greeting the young children who are cheering the tourists on, one of the Swiss females, becomes emotional. “Amalungu! Amalungu!” the children shout, which to them is simply any foreign person in Kliptown though Amalungu actually means white person in Zulu.
IZINYOKA: Illegal electricity cables connected to a main cable, hang in the air.
Her face [the tourist] has pulled red and she continuously wipes her tears. Her Swiss translator, Mary says in a deep accent that it’s their first time outside of Europe. As they enter the last stop of the tour, a one-bedroom shack which is home to a family of nine, Mary says, “where we come from there is a lot of money, it’s not easy to see the way people live here, I don’t know how to describe it, but we’ve left some clothing donations at the hotel.” she says.
Ngwambe says that the reason tourism works economically in places such as Vilakazi street in Orlando West, Soweto pay to gain entry to those sites. “Here it’s free to enter the museum, view the tower and move through the community, so it’s hard to say Kliptown makes money through tourism.”
He suggests that if tourism were to contribute to the upliftment of the community it would be in the form of long-term jobs so that “people can work for their own money and feed themselves instead of that R50 from someone else which only lasts one day.”
Tourism establishments giving back
The Soweto Hotel and Conference centre, which is in the same location as the small museum where Ngwambe works, is one of the tourism establishments that aims to assist the community by employing residents from Kliptown and surrounding Soweto areas.
It is a quiet afternoon at the swanky, Soweto Hotel and Conference Centre, back at the Walter Sisulu Square.
The hotel is the only four-star hotel in Soweto. It is also the first black-owned and black female managed hotel, with businesswoman and hotelier ,Lindiwe Sangweni-Siddo as the owner.
Welcomed with stairs imitating a red carpet, brown, orange and gold hues give the hotel its African feel.
This is along with the black and white photographs of musicians such as Miriam Makheba and Alf Khumalo performing in the 80s which go hand in hand with Soweto’s jazz history and Rusty’s jazz bar situated after the foyer.
The hotel opened its doors in November 2007 to offer accommodation at an international standard to over 200 000 tourists who visit the township. Busisiwe Mashobane who is part of the hotel’s sales support, says that the hotel offers a new experience to both local and international guests.
“The Sandton experience is overrated as it mirrors what you can find overseas, but our hotel offers a unique African experience as it is the only hotel in the township,” she says.
The hotel also aims to do more for the community , creating job opportunities by employing all their staff from Kliptown and surrounding Soweto areas. Additionally, Mashobane adds that, the hotel also contributes to the community by sourcing their fruit and vegetables from members of the Kliptown and Soweto community.
Alternatively the hotel engages with organisations in the community to which the hotel provides left-overs or merchandise that the hotel no longer needs. “Whatever we can give, we do,” she says.
Nomsa Mthelezulu has some similarities with Soweto Hotel and Conference Centre, establishing the first and only Backpacker accomodation in Kliptown but says the lack of amenities in the residential area hinders her from being as successful as the Soweto hotel.
Lack of service delivery frustrates tourism sector
Mthelezulu is the founder and owner of Kliptown Backpackers, her backpacker’s is on the other side of the railway and is situated two houses away from struggle veteran Charlotte Maxeke’s which is waiting to be renovated into a heritage site.
Charlotte Maxeke, born 7 April 1984, became the first black South African woman to receive a bachelors degree.
She graduated with a Bachelor of science from the Wilberforce University in Ohio, United States of America. Maxeke also founded the Bantu Women’s League, which fought against the proposition to extend pass laws to women during apartheid.
According to Blue Plaques, which marks and commemorates significant historical sites with blue mosaic plaques, Maxeke lived in the Kliptown home towards the end of her life and is buried in Kliptown.
MOTHER OF FREEDOM: Charlotte Maxeke’s house which is to be renovated located two houses from Kliptown backpackers. Photo: Kayleen Morgan
While giving her keynote address at the International Women’s Day commemoration at the Walter Sisulu Square in March 2015 Infrastructure Development MEC Nandi Mayathula-Khoza commited to converting the Kliptown home of Maxeke. Maxeke’s home would be turned into a museum and interpretation centre to commemorate the stalwart and boost tourism and job opportunities for the community of Kliptown.
During this address, the MEC also committed to bettering the lives of those who live in Kliptown, however two years have passed and Mthelezulu says the only change, is the board that has been placed in Maxeke’s yard stating that the house will be renovated.
Mtheluzulu, who turned her home into tourist accommodation says that her backpackers is ideal for international students who are doing research in the area, or anyone who may be visiting for a long duration and wants a real experience living in Kliptown.
She made some upgrades inside and outside the home she’s been living in since 1971.
When you walk in, you’re greeted with natural light shining through the windows in the living room and bouncing off the white tiles and walls in the home.
The room has a light fragrance courtesy of the washed linen. Guests have the option of staying in a dormitory room with two single beds, or a single room with a double bed. Each bed sports fresh white bedding, accompanied by toiletries and blue throws. “I also make African food if that’s what my guests want,” she says.
Mthelezulu says that after she hosted 4 American teenagers in 2007, she saw a business opportunity and decided to register for an accommodation permit to start up Kliptown backpackers.
Since then, she has hosted guests, mainly researchers, from Japan, United Kingdom and China among other countries, but admits that it has been difficult operating her business.
Walking from the city center towards her backpacker’s sewerage water runs through the informal settlements.
The strong smell which, Mthelezulu describes as “so bad you don’t want to eat”, is a combination of human waste and refuse dumped at the railway lines. She attributes the lack of amenities in the community as one of the main reasons her business isn’t doing well.
“It was hard and still is a struggle to get people to stay here,” she says. She adds that she envisions a better life in Kliptown but says that this will only be possible if government steps in because without roads where she is situated, potential customers cannot get to her which prevents her from improving her business.
“I wish they’d help us because if business booms here, I can employ more people from the community, and maybe life will be better for a lot of people,” she says.
Mthelezulu goes out to assist her neighbour who helps her clean the backpackers. When she returns she is visibly angry and shifts in her seat. Referring to the government she says, “I think we’ve been forgotten we’re living in hell and they’re playing with our minds, a lot of empty promises.”
FEATURED IMAGE: A community service project takes course in Kliptown, Soweto. Photo: Kayleen Morgan.
Soweto sees a rise in residents turning to the business side in efforts to earn a living.
The gate noisily creaks as you step inside, hearing the hum of machinery; whirring, clanking and grind as the gears press together. In the middle of the warehouse a young short stout man wearing khaki pants and slops due to the heat, is cutting and sewing a piece of leather on the sewing machine, with his brows knitted together in deep concentration.
Initially the warehouse looks messy, filled with different materials scattered on the floor and various furniture items. From traditional old upholstered couches to beautiful green couches with a golden trimmings. The place reeks of old carpet and dust.
Across from the young man, a timid middle-aged woman wearing a green pinafore is also sewing and quietly humming along to the faint tune playing in the background. As you draw closer to the noise, on the left of the warehouse in the office, an awkward skinny young man is working on a laptop bobbing his head to the now audible tune.
The big warehouse that has outlasted the others has a rusty relic of ages gone, is where these two young Kliptown residents, now 33-year-old entrepreneurs Nhlanhla Maseko and Tshepo Selaelo Ramalapa have been running Kidos Design and Upholstery furniture for the past 10 years.
Maseko and Ramalapa opened their doors for business in 2007 with the financial assistance of Soweto Kliptown Youth founder Bob Nameng. The two man show assisted by their trusty seamstress Lungile Gumbi, Maseko and Ramalapa have survived the test of time, self-funding their passion for their design business starting with about R10 000 capital while facing the challenges of raising more funds.
In the country of growing entrepreneurship success stories, victory is often the measure in money. However, in this case it is about the many years of hard work, determination and perseverance.
Maseko and Ramalapa are deciding to take a leap of faith and abandon their biggest money maker of furniture upholstery. This money-making model saw Kidos make R15 000 to R30 000 turnover a month. The duo has decided duo to enter the next phase of their business, expanding Kidos into manufacturing and supplying its unique furniture in large quantities of 100 units and more, which they expect to double their profits.
SEWFUL: Kido’s Design and Upholstery co-owner Nhlanhla Maseko prepares to make a new couch, cutting the piece of leather before sewing it.
For the young entrepreneurs, realising their dream in Kliptown will come at a cost. “For us to supply big furniture shops, we need more staff with proper workmanship. One of our biggest challenges is that in most cases that many people are not skilled. We still have to teach and it’s a bit difficult because people are motivated by cash,” said Maseko.
Maseko often rubs the back of his neck to ease the aches and pains from bending over the sewing machine for most of the day.
Despite the challenges and hardships Kidos has endured over the last decade, Maseko and Ramalapa are proud of the work they have done and business they have created. “This is [our] passion, more than anything this is what we love,” said the owners smiling optimistically.
Thus far their clientele comes from all over Soweto to source their meticulous workmanship at an affordable price. Maseko and Ramalapa created their business out of an idea that came to them from the environment in which they live, work and play. “For most black people, most furniture shops are too expensive to buy. The mark-up is so high. A lounge suite in the mall is like R30 000, but when you come to us, you’ll get the same suite with the same quality for 19 000,” said Maseko.
An elderly man of quiet demeanour walks into the shop looking for Maseko, to get his daughter’s car seats repaired. As a loyal customer for years, Henry Bopape from Diepsloot found Kidos through word of mouth.
Bopape said, “I trust Kliks [Maseko]. Ngiyawuthanda umsebenzi wabo [I love their work] and proud that they are creating opportunities for themselves and others. However, [Kidos] need more support from like government or other assisting stakeholders.”
The young business owners believe that Kliptown is one of the perfect places to start building and uplifting South Africa’s black community. Kidos provides skills to the fellow youth of Kliptown.
ORDER IN THE MESS: Co-owner Nhanhla Maseko plans and designs all the furniture Kidos Design and Upholstery manufactures.
Transforming townships into sites for productive activities
WE HAVE A DREAM: Sentiments of the iconic and historical freedom charter, which was signed in Kliptown in 1955.
There is chatter between sellers and buyers, old friends catching up and new friends made 25 kilometres south west of the Johannesburg CBD. Upon first glance in the Kliptown’s CBD, the average shops and market stalls seem to be in an organised disarray. Usually, one shop sells everything from cooked food to general household items.
There is always a hustle and bustle of someone trying to make a buck and trying to steer clear of the big black hole of unemployment.
Kliptown is one of the oldest urban settlements in the city rich with history: work, play and home to South Africa’s diverse ethnic and racial groupings. Kliptown was the backdrop of the adoption of the Freedom Charter in 1955 by the Congress of the People. In the Freedom Charter it states that “The People Shall Share in the Country’s Wealth: furthermore, all people shall have equal rights to trade where they choose, to manufacture and to enter all trades, crafts and professions.”
Today, Kliptown has become a community of hope, opportunity, growth and severe heartbreak. However, this diverse and unique environment brings with it opportunities to develop and create products and services that service the people of Kliptown.
The long road ahead …
On The Redi Tlhabi show June 2015, Gordons Institute for Business Science (GIBS) head of faculty of entrepreneurship Dr Jonathan Marks said, entrepreneurship is not yet recognised for the impact it can have on unemployment in South Africa.
According to City of Joburg, 2006, “Chapter 7: Sustainable Human Settlements” in “Reflecting on a solid foundation: Building developmental local government 2000 – 2005 Report” the Kliptown area has a population size of between 38 000 and 45 000 people.
The total labour force is estimated at 41 994, with the unemployment rate between 60%-70%. More than half of the population has no monthly income.
The Kliptown job centre that was opened in June 2016, is part of the Gauteng provincial government’s Tshepo 500 000 Programme. The programme was established to create half a million new sustainable jobs for the youth by 2019.
According to the centre’s data capture officer Thulisile Nyakame the centre has only registered 3000 peoples CVs. Only 10% to 15% of those people have been successful in getting a job with local companies and businesses.
However, the job centre has not achieved what it hoped to do. The deputy chairperson of the Kliptown business forum, United Business Empowerment Network (UBEN) Khotso Malaba said, the development and infrastructure of Kliptown does not support the necessary growth for employment and entrepreneurship.
PLAZA HUSTLE AND BUSTLE: The Kliptown Plaza is the CBD Kliptown area, where it always busy with traders, shop owners and consumers selling and buying their goods everyday.
Molaba said primary business sectors within Kliptown need to assist with the formation of a secondary economic trading sector/industry such as a recycling business started by fellow Kliptownians. “These are opportunities that are not being exploited. There quite a lot of development that needs to be done,” said Molaba.
In the last few years, Kliptown has seen a huge injection of funds towards its heritage status, with business developments centred on the development of Walter Sisulu Square of Dedication. However, majority of the Kliptown residents still do not have access to land that can be effectively developed for development and entrepreneurship.
However, resourceful individuals like Albert Mmbengwa has found an “interesting” ways of providing food services to consumers and creating his own opportunity of employment by turning to the gamble of entrepreneurship.
After being unemployed for almost three years, 54-year-old Mmbengwa took his future into his own hands, starting his fried chip business six months ago on the side fourth street, about 150m away from the Walter Sisulu Square of Dedication.
ORDER NO. 1: Chip seller Albert Mmbengwa.
Attempting to support his family of four with the R350 he makes a day from his chip business Mmbengwa said in isiZulu, “I took the decision to buy the necessary equipment to make the chips and open my business so that I can survive and have something to wake up to everyday. My goal is that one day I will have my own fast food store and make it a franchise.”
According to a Gordons Institute for Business Science (GIBS) 2015 report on entrepreneurship in South Africa, the entrepreneurial activity is improving but still falls short in comparison with other parts of the world.
THE DESTINATION: Come taste some African goodness and have a fine dining express at Boja Nala, located at the Walter Sisulu Square in Kliptown.
The GIBS report claims that aspirant and existing entrepreneurs still face huge challenges and frustrations. GIBS said South Africa’s financial and operating environment is not supportive enough of entrepreneurs, particularly in terms of regulations, policies and access to capital.
Loyal customer of Mmbengwa’s chip business Manfred Thompson said, as a causal unemployed worker he loves to support the local business in Kliptown.
“I buy here almost every day. It’s something cheaper for us because most the time we can’t afford to buy the R15 packet of chips at the store. There is no time for us to sit and eat, so the little we got we use for Albert’s chips,” said Thompson.
After Thompson gets his chips, he and Mmbengwa exchange brief parting words. Mmbengwa takes a deep breath and lets out a fatigued puff. The harsh Kliptown spring sunshine illuminates Mmbengwa’s tired, worn face, wrinkles boring deeply into his skin. He smiles to himself, happy with his earnings for the day thus far.
Many consumers who live in the townships enjoy the convenience of being able to find the same services and goods that people in the city have access to. Since, Kliptown is a primary trading space, Boja Nala restaurant brings the city flair of fine dining and eating experience.
Boja Nala serves steak and other various cuts of meat with a side starch of your choice – ranging from R90-110.
The atmosphere in Boja Nala is laid back, warm and inviting with a cosy lounge feel. Although the restaurant is dimly lit, the high beaming ceilings, earthy African décor and works wonders for the ambience.
After being around for only three months at the square, Boja Nala 39-year-old self-funded owner Mike Menyasto said he chose Kliptown in order to bring South Africa’s buying power to the impoverished but improving township.
“We are starting to attract people with buying power. We don’t want to attract just anyone but the people who make the market. We have not reached the level we want yet. Success is affordability and making money and that is what we aim to do. Currently we are making a turnover of R21 000 on average per month,” said Menyatso.
HOME IS WHERE THE HEART IS: Boja Nala has an eclectic African décor, which gives warm and inviting atmosphere.
Loyal daily customer, well-built vivacious Beefy Q. Rayners speaks highly of Boja Nala and the great potential it has.
“There is no coffee shop here in Kliptown and the food they serve here is different. It is exciting coming here every day finding something new.”
Boja Nala which means destination in Tshwana has become thee food destination for Rayners. “Everyone else is selling pap and meat. The chefs at Boja Nala compile their menu thinking what it is new that they can do to attract each and every customer that walks by the board, which keeps me wondering ‘ooh what’s for lunch’. Soweto Hotel has not seen me again.
Manyatso has learnt that entrepreneurship one has to be able to roll with the punches and adapt to the unpredictable climate of business. Initially starting as a coffee shop, Manyatso expanded with the demand to a fully-fledged restaurant.
Slowly the economic developments driven by the township economy are finding entrepreneurial prospects more viable as a means to create one’s own opportunities.
‘Passion to enterprise’ is quickly outweighing the desperation to make ends meet, proving that Kliptown has an enterprising spirit.
“Mike’s ideas and what it is that he wants to achieve with the restaurant is very good over a long period of time. So it’s going to take some time to get to where he needs to be.” Said Rayners.
Yes, Kliptown has shabby run-down third-world streets lined with dirt, and unemployed people but do not be fooled by the poverty and restlessness in the old township.
There is an incredible spirit of resilience and creativity that will help Kliptown become a part of Johannesburg’s entrepreneurial heartbeat.
WINNING BARGAIN: Vegetable seller at Walter Sisulu Dedication Square sucessfully bargains with a customer.
The deputy chairperson UBEN Molaba agreed with the sentiment that entrepreneurship empowers citizens and is required for any emerging market to move forward.
He said the “black industry needs to thrive and need to circulate the rand. The rand doesn’t circulate enough times in Kliptown. This will assist in alienating the depression of Kliptown. Trust and buy black products and services in order to grow Kliptown entrepreneurship.”
Township entrepreneurship is important to South Africa’s economic and social development. Entrepreneurs create innovative and sometimes new competitive markets and businesses, which can lead to job creation and community upskilling.
FEATURED IMAGE: Kido’s Design and Upholstery co-owner Nhlanhla Maseko prepares to make a new couch, cutting the piece of leather before sewing it.. Photo: Nomvelo Chalumbira.
In Kliptown, Soweto’s oldest residential district, the Oushun family has played a significant role in the community for over 50 years. Peter Oushun has made it his mission to keep the art of drinking traditional beer alive. The 87-year-old man’s tavern remains the longest standing tavern, providing solace to the employed, unemployed, young and old community members of Kliptown.
“Kan ek ‘n plein een kry? (Can I get a plain one please),” a 66-year-old coloured woman by the name of Margret Wax asks the bartender. He passes her a one-litre carton of Chibuku plain through a small window with metal burglar bars. She shakes the carton, opens it up at the top corner, careful not to tear the paper fabric of the carton. She then takes a big sip of the sour, thick malt fermented drink and sighs in relief. A thick white foam remains on her upper lip.
“Chibuku must be drunk sitting down,” Peter Oushun says to her as she makes her way to take a seat next to him. He is the owner of the shop and has a habit of mingling with his customers as they indulge in drinking traditional beer at his tavern every day from 10 a.m. to 10 p.m.
It is 11 a.m. on Sunday, September 29. Of the taverns that are open for those returning from church services, only one is busting with life. Oushun Place on Beacon Road seems to be the place to be. Vibrant Kliptownian customers come in one by one, old with a few young ones, either ordering a Chibuku plain or the banana flavour which is the most requested by customers.
Customers sit on benches in the dark tavern with just the light from the sun making its way through the doorway. They sit in groups conversing and laughing about their stories from the weekend as if replicating the traditional customs of families conversing over a jug of traditional umqombothi. The tavern is simple and the atmosphere is peaceful. Everyone is laid back and relaxed, sipping their own “khathun” (carton) of Chibuku.
Margret continues to drink hers. She doesn’t seem bothered by the fact she is the only woman drinking in the tavern at that time. She has been one of Peter’s loyal customers since 1976.
“I prefer Chibuku more than bottled beer. Bottled beer is acid,” she says. Peter nods his head in agreement just as he is about to give a breakdown of how he believes that Chibuku can change Africa’s problems.
The 87-year-old man loves to talk about the traditional beer business that took him and his family from rags to riches.
SELLING SORGHUM: Peter Oushun’s family has made a living from the sale of traditional sorghum beer to the Kliptown Community for decades.
Beer built my home and family
To the left of the bartenders’ window, there is a black gate which divides the tavern from Peter’s home, in the style of many of the homes connected to businesses in Soweto.
There are two doors. Behind one is the storage room for all the Chibuku bought from South African Breweries (SAB), and the other leads to Peter’s home.
Peter sits in the sitting room on a green leather sofa watching the crime channel via his DStv decoder on a big plasma television. On the walls hang photos of his family and quotes about African culture and freedom.
A rotating fan blows cooling air, although he is dressed in a winter hat, black sweater and thick red woolen trousers.
“You know I started this business with just five cases in 1976,” he says. Peter explains that in those days, people didn’t want to drink Chibuku. “It was very low among the coloured people.
They used to call it kaffir beer.” He knew an Indian man named Chunara who owned a Chibuku store which was closing down.
“I am going away, coloured people don’t drink this,” Chunara had said to Peter.
FILLING FLAVOURS: The banana-flavoured Chibuku is the most requested by Oshun Place customers.
At the time Peter had just left his job as a vendor selling sweets on the train. He then bought the land and shop from Chunara.
According to Peter’s granddaughter and heir, Shoenelle Ogbonmwan, Peter slept in the empty shop for six months trying to protect it from thieves. It was the year that beer halls in townships were burnt down.
“I then went to Langlaagte to speak to the white man,” Peter continues. “I asked him, ‘How can I promote this business?’” The ‘white man’ offered him five cases to sell. “I went there to a coloured street called Pampam to promote it there, especially to young people, and it was sold out. I went back and sold 10 cases. I asked for more until I ended up with 5000 cases.”
One of the tavern employees comes in and asks Peter if he is ready to have his lunch. She brings him some biryani and beetroot.
A FAMILY AFFAIR: Peter Oushun poses with his granddaughter, Shoenelle Ogbonmwan, who will inherit the tavern, and her son, Amadeo.
“But, you see, people undermine me; they think ama-khathun,” he says laughing, as he holds a spoonful of food. “Everybody undermines me but they don’t know kanti I’m doing it! Do you see my home? Even my children in town have nice houses because of this business. I’ve got one who drives a BMW and the other has a nice house in the suburbs. It’s all because of me!”
Shoenelle confirms this when she says, “He bought me my first car, my first townhouse, because of this shop.” Oushun Place has sustained three generations: Peter, Peter’s daughter Shyanne, and her daughter Shoenelle.
The beer necessities
It is now 1pm. Different faces can be spotted back in the tavern, many of them elderly coloured men. They stare at me with bewildered eyes.
They seem to be wondering what a 23-year-old girl black girl dressed in polka-dot a skirt, holding a camera and notebook, could be doing in this tavern?
Marget is sipping her third round of Chibuku. This time she is seated at a table with two gentlemen, very quiet men who have travelled from Johannesburg to Kliptown for a drink at Oushun Place. I join them, and Peter joins us.
“You know, ever since I have been drinking this, I do not get constipation,” Margret says, looking at me with a wise, wrinkled face, and eyes with the irises circled with grey lines. Peter jumps in the conversation to add more benefits of Chibuku.
He has philosophies about them written up on the walls inside and outside the tavern. “Sorghum beer is good for pregnancy, breastfeeding and high blood pressure”; “One Africa One Hair, One nation”; and “Chibuku, one mashangane, the beer of Africa”.
n 2014 the Gauteng Liquor Board (GLB) introduced new regulations which significantly affected Oushun Place. One was that, “Taverns and pubs have been merged into a single category licence” and another, “Shebeen licence traders will only be allowed to sell alcohol until 10 pm. during the week”.
These were attempts to curb noise pollution in residential areas and to limit negative exposure of children and residents to beer.
Peter does not agree. He insists that because Chibuku is a traditional beer it should not have the same regulations as regular alcohol.
“Chibuku is a breakfast for blacks before they go to work!” he says passionately.
“I’m not selling beer, I am selling sorghum!” he added. Through this logic, it makes no sense for the tavern to open at 10 a.m. As a result of his belief Peter says he once had to sleep in jail because he refused to get a liquor licence.
“Oupa will always believe that Chibuku beer is natural. He even refused to get a licence because of that,” Shoenelle says. “We lost a lot of money because of that. They took away 250 crates every second day,” she adds.
Peter even wrote letters to the presidency. In one letter, written on May 20, 2009, titled “Promoting sorghum beer” and addressed to President Jacob Zuma he advocates for sorghum beer and its benefits.
Written in blue ink, and neat cursive handwriting, a section of the letter reads: “I was the one who promoted this sorghum through clinics, suggesting to them that it cures illnesses regarding high blood pressure and kidney problems as well as ulcers.”
According to production manager of United National Breweries (UNB), where Chibuku is brewed, Chibuku falls under alcoholic beverages because of its percentage of alcohol after the fermentation period.
“It produces a maximum of 3% to 3.5% of alcohol after 3 days,” he says.
“We don’t sell it as alcohol but because of the properties it has it is classified as that,” he adds.
According to a report from Eye Witness News in July 2017, “Government wants to tighten the screws on the production and sale of malt and sorghum beer, including traditional African beer.” This may cause further problems for Peter’s business.
However, after the jail incident, Shoenelle says they managed to “pull through” and finally obtain a liquor licence and Oushun Place became a big name with UNB.
“They [UNB] offered Oupa to become a distributor for the whole of Soweto, but he declined,” she says. She blames his decision on being very “set on his ways”.
Local vendor Johna Mabasa set up her small shop across Oushun’s Place selling roasted chicken feet to community members and some of Peter’s customers.Unemployed Sylvester Ntukela used to own a store which sold carpets called Bio Industrious. He likes to shake his chibuku carton for at least a minute before drinking it.Pensioner Margret Wax has been coming to Oushun’s Place ever since it was established in 1967. She is one of Peter’s close friendsUnemployed Khaya Phantshwa originated from the Eastern Cape to Johannesburg to search for a job. He often visits Oushun’s Place for a drink or two.Supervisor Bridget Peacock is Peter’s oldest existing employees, and she runs the day-to-day sales of Chibuku at the tavern.Maponya Mall Vendor Samuel Manona usually sells super glue and stickers on crown reef road near Maponya Mall. He can gulp down a carton of chibuku in one go.Domestic helper Samantha Anthony is often asisted by her son as she takes care of Peter’s house and tavern. She makes one of the best Briyani meals.Merchant Moses Chisi, works at a community center behind Oushun’s Place and enjoys the chibuku plain flavour.
Preserving African traditions and cultures to Peter is of utmost importance. But what’s even more important to him is his loyalty to his customers. They love Oushun Place. It is one place that they seem to get a break from all the troubles they experience. At least one community member thinks so.
A local security guard named Patrick Shongwe says the tavern is always packed.
Even in Soweto they do sell this drink but here [in Kliptown] it is very popular,” he says as he waits to collect his shoes from the shoesmith neighbouring Oushun Place. Although Patrick doesn’t drink, he is convinced that the community members drink as a way to escape from their problems.
“The problem is that they are not working, that’s why they can enjoy themselves. And it’s cheaper, unlike buying beer. So whatever they get, that amount they buy the beer,” he says waving one hand in the air while the other tries to fit his refined shoe on his foot.
Unemployment is a huge issue in Kliptown. According to the most recent statistics from Wazimaps and Stats SA, as of 2011, Kliptown’s unemployment rate is more than 60%.
This is evident as young and old people can be seen loitering along the streets. That’s if they aren’t Chibuku drinkers. “Crime is very rife here; you cannot take chances, especially at night,” Patrick adds, as he carries his shoes away.
Across the street from Oushun Place a woman named Johna Mabasa sells braai’d chicken feet, called ‘runaways’ by locals. Her stall is held together with torn cloth and wooden sticks, shading her from the sun.
Drinkers from Oushun Place like to buy there. “Ekuseni, nasemini, kugcwele kakhulu, and bayathenga amakhathun (In the morning, in the afternoon, it is always full and people buy the cartons),” she says, turning the chicken feet on her small braai stand.
Oushun Place is a source of business for Johna. She has been at the same spot for three years now selling BBQ-spiced ‘runaways’ to Peter’s customers as well as by passersby in order to support her two daughters.
“He was very strict, I used to read a page for R5 because at the time Barbie dolls cost R5,” Shoenelle says reminiscing about growing up in the Oushun home.
After Peter showed me the letters to the president, he took out from one of the drawers in his room a photo of Shoenelle. He stared into it like she was his prized possession.
“Everyone knows he is close to my heart,” Shoenelle says. “I’m sure they wonder how hard it would hit me when he is to die. He is my father figure.
If I have any issues I don’t lack with him,” she says about Peter. Shyanne, Shoenelle’s mother was a single mother. They moved to the city when Shoenelle turned 12. The shop continued to finance their family, taking her to the best schools and giving her the best education in the suburbs.
Although Peter would love for her to move back to Kliptown to run the business when she takes it over, Shoenelle doesn’t see herself living there. “There’s nothing there for me, sweetheart. He has been buying these flat screen TVs, and tries to make everything nice for me,” she says.
Shoenelle would rather stay in Johannesburg with her husband and one-year-old son. They have adopted the suburban lifestyle of the affluent Winchester Hills. “I can’t take my husband to move there, he has his pride and he has also built a home for us here,” she adds in a frustrated voice.
At the moment Oushun Place has been transferred to Shoenelle’s name while Peter continues to manage the tavern.
“All I am waiting for is for him to finally rest his eyes in the next five years, my dear.” She says she would like to keep everything the way it is so as to keep her grandfather’s legacy of Oushun Place: “One Nation, one mashangane, the beer of Africa”, and ensuring that it remains a place for Kliptownians, non-Kliptownians, the old, the young, the jobless and the employed to come and enjoy an affordable, thick, malt, fermented taste of Africa’s favourite sorghum beer.
FEATURED IMAGE: Peter Oushun poses with his granddaughter, Shoenelle Ogbonmwan, who will inherit the tavern, and her son, Amadeo. Photo: Karen Mwendera.
Since her announcement as the Democratic Alliance’s mayoral candidate for Johannesburg, Helen Zille has dominated national headlines. In this bonus episode of We Should Be Writing podcast, hosts Lulah Mapiye and Bonolo Mokonoto dissect a media meet-and-greet with the mayoral hopeful. From her extensive political résumé to her controversial public utterance, we examine why the Democratic Alliance has chosen Hellen Zille as their candidate for the 2027 local mayoral elections. Additionally, […]
