Restoring the spirit of a village

The Credo Mutwa Cultural Village is a site of importance for African beliefs, spiritualities and traditions. Rich in African aesthetics, it is tucked away in the middle of Soweto, in Jabavu, in stark contrast with the eventful, urban and modernised township lifestyle.

The sound of crickets and chirping birds, and the swaying of tree branches in the gentle breeze is magnified in the tranquil and serene setting of the Credo Mutwa Cultural Village. Secluded in the woods of the Oppenheimer Gardens historic park, the village seems to be a world away from Soweto, which is only steps away.

The sculptures, so robustly representative of the heritage of the Zulu, Sotho, Ndebele and Arab people among others, are all supersized. The village is also a holy grail for traditional healers because of its greenery consisting of indigenous plants which are used for healing and other traditional purposes.

“ALL LIARS, FOOLS, SKEPTICS AND ATHEISTS MUST PLEASE KEEP OUT!” These are the words on the village entrance’s welcome board, undoubtedly capturing the attention of many visitors. The signage, in black and red bold hand lettering, further cautions that a curse lasting seven years may be cast upon any visitors who destroy any part of the place.

KWA-KHAYALENDABA: Sculptures in the storytelling arena of the village. Photo: Ntando Thukwana.

“There are a lot of people who are skeptical of the village,” says the well-spoken man who spends most of his days at the village. The 35-year-old says he was only six when he paid his first visit to the village, and, since then, it has been a place of solace where he also undertakes some of his spiritual and traditional rituals.

“My name is Mojalefa Njase”, he says, and, adding in emphasis, “wa ha Mofokeng (a child to the Mofokengs).” Njase is his mother’s surname, while Mofokeng is his father’s. He says that according to the BaSotho people, if your parents were never married, you use both your parents’ surnames to symbolise that, ultimately, you are an heir to your father’s family.

Njase wa ha Mofokeng says the sculptures’ eerie and strange qualities create unease in some visitors. Not surprisingly, since some are triple headed and others have skulls on strange parts of the body.

Ntate Mutwa (Mr Mutwa) did not create the sculptures to be worshiped, but some people twist it and think that the people who are living here are worshiping the sculptures, because we refer to them as Modimo mme, Modimo ntate, Modimo morwa and Modimo moya o halalelang (God the mother, God the father, God the son and God the holy spirit). The truth about them is that he wanted us to keep our heritage so that we could pass it on and remind ourselves constantly that this is where we come from,” Njase wa ha Mofokeng says.

Siza Mpye (48) a Christian woman and first time visitor, was not moved by the caution at the entrance warning about the curse. “I am not superstitious,” she shrugged.

However, she was not convinced by another quotation at the village: “A woman is equivalent to God whereby she’s given the honour as God the mother.” Her response was that, “As a Christian, I’m hearing this for the first time and it doesn’t make sense. I don’t dispute that women are powerful leaders and deserve all the respect.”

NDUMBA: A traditional medical clinic in the cultural village. Photo: Ntando Thukwana

In 1974, traditional healer, author and artist, Credo Vusamazulu Mutwa, was given a piece of land with which he created the cultural village, erecting sculptures and homesteads of different African tribes to demonstrate and teach people how different tribes in Africa lived.

The Village was built for the purposes of preserving traditional beliefs of African people in a society that was fast developing towards western beliefs.

During a time of political unrest in the apartheid era, Mutwa is said to have been misquoted by an Afrikaans publication, and this led to student protesters burning the village down. According to the current village dwellers, he was misquoted as having said that the apartheid government should send armies to attack students rioting at the time.

Njase wa ha Mofokeng, who describes himself as a “cosmopolitan man”, says he received his calling three years ago and has still not accepted it, citing the difficulties that come with practising as a young traditional healer.

“As an individual that grew in this cosmopolitan life, it’s not something that one would like to follow and just leave your life behind,” he says.

Mutwa’s renouncement of Christianity in favour of African beliefs was met with a lot of controversy and many believed that he dabbled in witchcraft because of his boldness and unapologetic stance on African beliefs and traditions.

He is said to have predicted the September 11, 2001 Twin Towers catastrophe by way of a painting that hangs in the village’s Green Room that is signed “1979”, long before the crash.

Another claim that has been met with a lot of controversy is that he predicted the HIV/Aids pandemic, and that this is represented in his village in sculpture form.

A phase of neglect

ructures, such as the KwaDukuza Village which is representative of Zulu people’s huts, have been newly thatched.

Before 2008, the entire village had been under maintained resulting in it being crime infested and a danger to surrounding locals.

Lebo Sello (42), a prophet and the site manager of the cultural village, who speaks of Credo Mutwa and the village with the greatest admiration, has been using the village as his sacred sanctuary for almost 10 years.

Sello started making the village his home in 2008 when it was being misused and abused by locals. In him was a desperate need to restore the legacy of Madala (sir) Credo, as he fondly calls him, and much like Mutwa, to continue spreading teachings about African ways of living, especially for the people of Soweto.

SAVING GRACE: Site manager Lebo Sello
keeps bad elements out of the village.

Noma yini bhoza yami, woza (Anything my boss, come),” he says in mimicry of the troublesome young men addicted to nyaope that he constantly has to keep out the site.

“The village was not being used the way it was supposed to be used,” Sello says. “It was destroyed, e nne eli pleke ya di tsotsi. Batho ba tsuba di drugs, ba e fetotse brothel (It was a place for criminals. People used drugs here and turned it into a brothel).”

Sello seemingly possesses a sixth sense that is able to notice even the slightest of movements in the village. He looks over my shoulder and with a squint of the eye, looking into the distance, he spots a pedestrian coming from the end of the village attempting to use it as a shortcut to his journey. “Hey, kgotlela moo otswang teng! (Hey, go back where you came from!) That is not the entrance,” he shouts.

Sello says they have to deal with such challenges daily. “I had to fight first by cleaning out the drug users and the gents who chilled here. I started fighting those that turned this place into a brothel. Even though it’s still happening, it’s happening on a very small scale,” he says, gesticulating with index finger and thumb in front of his face. “So, public indecency, those are the challenges we still have,” a weary Sello says.

Makhosi Jabulani Sibanyoni (52), a traditional healer who has been practicing for 34 years, uses the village not only for his personal spiritual betterment but as a graduation space for his trainees and as a place of teaching for his sangoma initiates as well.

He is the founder of the South African Traditional Medicines Training programme and a member of the Gauteng Traditional and Faith Medical Practitioners.

Sibanyoni attributes the neglect and damage of the village to the student riots that took place in 1976. “After the ’76 riots a lot of negative things happened which we are still trying to get rid of, hence there’s renovations,” he says. “We’re trying to revive the spirit of this place. A lot of wrong has been happening because of the neglect.”

Although the process of cleaning out the wrongdoing started in 2008, renovations to the village started early in 2017 and were expected to finish in December.

The village’s restoration is administered using funds from donations made mostly by visiting tourists.

The heritage site, as declared by Joburg City, is more than just an attraction for the amusement of tourists. The village has a constant bustle of traditional healers looking to pick traditional plants for their medicinal practices as well as Soweto residents needing to find a noiseless space to connect with their ancestors.

The village has been used by the locals to perform cleansing rituals away from their busy lives at home.

Sibanyoni describes his divine discovery of the village saying a dream led him to it in 1989. “I dreamt of this place and then I came just for a visit and I saw the village and started frequenting it. Ngize ngizo phahla (I’d come to appease my ancestors) and connect with the spirits.

Plants used for traditional healing: Intelezi or skanama is used for cleansing three months after the death of a family member.

Then I stopped coming here for quite a long time until 2014. What brought me back here was wanting something that could connect amathwasa (sangoma initiates). We needed a place that would take us back to tradition,” adds Sibanyoni.

Contrasting the current state of the village to how it was before it became rundown, Sibanyoni says, “It was still very tidy, very neat, very very sacred. When you came here as a lady you wouldn’t come here dressed in trousers and without a head wrap.

A guy wouldn’t come here in shorts. Your appearance would be respectful. That was a basic law of this place and you would connect with your ancestors, from the village’s entry point, you’d feel a sense of connection,” he says proudly.

Njase wa ha Mofokeng says his mother was a traditional healer who used to frequent the village for her own spiritual practices. The village to him, extends to more than just a sacred space for centering his spirit and mind, it is an important part of his relationship with his mother. Here, as a young man, he watched very closely her practices.

“My mum was a traditional healer. The mother to my mum was a traditional healer. I knew that they came here and did some rituals,” he says as he reminisces about her.

“When I had my down times and my high times, I spent time here. To revive my soul and spirit. One of the reasons that made me love and be interested in this place was my mum. Mme waka natla mo a dula a tlo pahla a tlo batla moreana (My mum used to come here to appease her ancestors and to look for medicine).

The whole Credo Mutwa Village has indigenous plants,” Njase wa ha Mofokeng says.

This aloe variant is used to flush out toxins in the blood.

Despite the lengthy process of the renovations, this village continues to be a significant part of the lives of the likes of Sello, Njase wa ha Mofokeng and Makhosi Sibanyoni who come from different walks of life in the excessively busy Soweto township.

Since Sello’s attempts at the village’s restoration, the village welcomes members from the Soweto community to join in on the Shamanic drumming sessions held each Friday as well as the celebration of annual rituals welcoming the four different African seasons.

“This place helps me to connect with my inner being, that’s why it’s so very important to me. My favourite teaching is when they speak about the importance of a woman in this world. It brings me back to who I am and where I come from,” Sello says.

Sello truly is the hope of the village. If he had the chance to have the world in one place at the same time, he’d tell them, “Idlozi likhona, liyaphila (Ancestors are real), they are not demons,” he says.

FEATURED IMAGE: Huts at the Credo Mutwa Village. Photo: Ntando Thukwana.

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A greenhouse in the urban jungle

The streets of Johannesburg are bustling with activity, an intrinsic characteristic of the CBD. Women selling fresh produce sit in the sun all day, with green spinach, blood-red tomatoes and ripe cabbage enticing walkers-by. A colourful array of people can be seen lying face down on the grass in Joubert Park, the biggest public park in the CBD, an arrangement reminiscent of an artwork made of humans. Standing beside the still bodies, unaffected street photographers stand idly in the park, waiting for customers to ask them to take the perfect ID photo.  And in the centre of this scene lies the Greenhouse Project, a quiet sanctuary filled with the smell of fresh herbs.

The Greenhouse Project has stood on the corner of Klein and Wolmarans streets since 1993. The space flourishes with organic vegetables, herbs and plants, and many have walked through it – from volunteers to customers who thrive on organic living. Known as the Victorian Hothouse, a conservatory stands decrepit amongst towering trees that have stood the test of time.

Below the ancient trees, their yellow flowers are scattered all around the tarred ground of the Greenhouse Project. Thabisile Mchunu, director and administrator of the GreenHouse, points out how beautiful they look. Mchunu, who is in her 60s, looks like she dressed according to the theme. She wears a lime green blouse paired with yellow loafers, a style that matches effortlessly with her dyed blonde natural ‘do.

It’s clear to see that Mchunu fits in perfectly with the surroundings, which drew her permanently in soon after her first visit in 2011. The GreenHouse Project first caught her eye while she was a co-opted board member at CBU Hub, an organisation that specialises in community projects. The corporate world veteran swapped her high heels for gardening gloves and despite the shrinking of the initial CBU Hub members that visited on a regular basis, she developed a connection with the space, which eventually got her the role as director.

“We’re [Mabule Mokhine, the executive director and Mchunu] are running this place with almost no income. We just do volunteer work and the little we get does not justify the amount of work we do,” says Mchunu. “But we’re trying to keep the space alive.”

GREEN CITY: The City of Johannesburg’s Greenhouse Project in Joubert Park. 
YELLOW SEASON: Fever tree flowers sprinkle the grounds of the Greenhouse Project.  

                                                                          

Mchunu has worked hard to keep the space open, which has almost been swallowed up by the ‘concrete jungle’ characteristics of the inner city. Joubert Park and the Greenhouse Project in its entirety almost became a part of the nearby MTN taxi rank which would have seen the green pastures being exchanged for tons of concrete and blaring greenhouse gas emitters in the form of taxis.

Behind the tall trees, an abandoned grey building stands. The lack of life within it is emphasised by the pane-less windows gaping at street walkers on every floor. Hope of life is restored by the trees that unexpectedly peak off the rooftop of the building, a pleasant surprise for the onlooker. Proof that Johannesburg truly is a man-made forest, its nature making its home not only on the ground, but also on the city’s tallest buildings.

However, between the building and the trees at the Greenhouse Project stand two large fences, one with elaborate electric fencing. To have a peaceful space in one of the most dangerous areas of Johannesburg means that, unfortunately, people have to be kept out and heavy screening by 24-hour security guards must take place when any person wishes to enter.

“We would have vagrants that would come through every part of this space,” says Mchunu. “Every moment they find they would jump in and rip things apart. Three months ago we had a burglary at 3am. We’re in the middle of Hillbrow here.”

But not all the people that the Greenhouse Project attracts have a desire to destroy the space. Beyond the big metal gates designed in the form of a vine complete with flowers, a group of workers armed with sunhats and gardening tools, are responsible for keeping the garden fresh and the vegetables growing.

One pair of these green-fingered hands belongs to Sizwe Mazibuko, a volunteer hailing from the hills of KwaZulu-Natal. Mazibuko visits the Greenhouse four times a week, a requirement that forms part of the 18 months of practical work he has to do for his Farming Management Diploma at Umfolozi College in Richard’s Bay.

Despite the variety of farms that can be found in KwaZulu-Natal, Mazibuko has found himself deep in the city of Johannesburg, where he has lived for eight months. Dressed in black from head to toe, and armed with a smile that exposes his two front gold teeth, Mazibuko’s face has several scars, evidence of a difficult life lived in his 28 years.

LUSH SPACES: The green spaces of the Greenhouse Project are looked after by a dedicated team of volunteers.

However, a year-and-a-half of volunteering work in Johannesburg will not cover his rent for the place he is staying at, close by to Joubert Park. Mazibuko works part time delivering bread around the city. “It is to survive. Life is expensive. At the same time, I don’t earn anything here,” he says.

Although he is new to Johannesburg, Mazibuko has taken on the qualities of the typical city dweller: he is hardworking and determined. Goals are what are important to him, starting with the acquirement of his diploma once he has finished his practical segment. Thereafter, he would like to complete a Postgraduate Certificate in Education so he is able to teach people about his love for agriculture and organic farming.

Living in Johannesburg isn’t easy for Mazibuko. “It’s hard when you still have dreams of achieving your objectives,” he says. “I still have things to reach.” 

But for him, the GreenHouse Project is a sanctuary in the rat race of a city. “I love this place. It’s a good environment for a human. It makes your mind work. I love each and everything you see here. It’s good for me because I’ve been through some times,” says Mazibuko, who grew up in the small KwaZulu-Natal town of Mtubatuba.

A stroll further into the space reveals a small building donated by the Norwegian Church Aid, complete with a finished kitchen made up of wooden cabinets and marble counters – all recycled material.

There you can find Dineo Tsoabi, a partner of the Greenhouse Project, cooking a fragrant pot of fresh spinach using the nifty biodigester, which Mchunu explains “uses food waste to generate gas that can be used for cooking, making hand creams, cough mixtures and hair products”.

Tsoabi could easily be mistaken for a teenager if one had to judge her by her height, but she has lived for a total of 37 years. “As partners with Greenhouse, we [she and a few other women] develop the space, making sure the space is green,” she says.

Like Mchunu, the Greenhouse Project first caught Tsoabi’s eye when she used to attend monthly CBU Hub meetings once a month at the space. “We came to the agreement that if the Greenhouse Project deals with admin and funding, we will train students from university and the community to start food gardens,” says the partner, who hails from Vanderbjilpark, but now lives in the township of Sebokeng, which is also close to the Vaal River.

Educating the community on organic farming is something that Tsoabi holds close to her heart. She can be found taking people on educational tours, both in the Vaal and at the Greenhouse Project and sometimes as part of the Edu Tours organisation, which specialises in school tours.

The love of organic farming is something that flows through her bloodline. “I learnt organic farming from my parents,” says Tsoabi. “My father bought the plot which my parents live on to utilise the space.”

Her 13-year-old daughter, who lives with Tsoabi’s parents, is also learning the benefits of farming. “I want to show her how important it is to grow food. Sometimes kids don’t know where things like cabbage and spinach come from, so I hope that she will pass on these lessons to the other kids,” she says.

Dressed comfortably in blue gender-neutral overalls, Tsoabi comes to Johannesburg every day to work in the gardens. However, since the Greenhouse Project struggles with funding, Tsoabi and the others like her do not get paid on a regular basis, which means they must find other ways to make money.

The streets of Johannesburg thrive with entrepreneurs on every corner, such as the women who can be seen day in and day out behind their own vegetable-selling stalls. The Greenhouse Project has embraced the entrepreneurship ways of the city, lessons that have provided Tsoabi with innovative ways to make money.

“We sell produce to informal restaurants and the ladies who sell it on the street,” said Tsoabi, who also spends her time fighting the consequences of climate change by freely educating people of its dangers on trains. She also makes and sells skincare, medicinal and hair care products made only of the natural elements found in the gardens.

Ingredients for these products include plants such as the fascinating stinging nettle with its rather contradictory characteristics. Needle-like edges of the freshly-picked plant leave a stinging sensation that lasts a few minutes if struck on the skin. However, it can also treat wounds and arthritis either by ingestion or direct application to the skin.

Tsoabi says the people of Johannesburg have shown a keen interest in the Greenhouse Project, especially those from other countries.

URBAN JUNGLE: The Greenhouse Project is the ultimate definition of the “urban jungle” with buildings peeking from the greenery.

She is often approached to cure the sicknesses of others using herbal remedies. “I can make a general herbal mix for those people because I respect people’s privacy,” says Tsoabi.

One of the go-to herbs for such a mix can be spotted in the garden in the form of blooming flowers named nasturium which acts as an antibiotic for a variety of infections.

“They [Tsoabi and the other ladies] know the herbs, they know what they cure,” says Mchunu. “Now they’re going to harvest comfrey for me because I have a friend who suffers from continuous hip pain, so I thought I should ask the ladies to give me some comfrey leaves which he can soak and consume and see if the pain goes away.”

Tsoabi’s group is not the only set of healing hands at the Greenhouse Project. A wellness centre named Conlinea Health and Wellness is visited twice a month by a homeopathic doctor, Dr James Motaung. On the days he visits, the patient waiting room is packed with a variety of patients, mostly elderly, but the odd young person can be spotted in the throng.

Masefako Matjie is at the doctor’s rooms for the first time, dressed in an attire worthy of a church Sunday – a floral dress with a pink blazer. Although the queues were disappointing for her, after she had travelled from her Alexandra home, she says she prefers herbal medicine over normal pharmaceuticals because “they lack chemicals”, she says.

In the city of Johannesburg, where concrete, skyscrapers and cars can be the only thing in sight, the Greenhouse Project is a vision for sore eyes. The fresh vegetables and plants provide an aesthetic sanctuary but with them, the ancient practice of healing can be utilised across the city.

A beautiful intersection between the economic powerhouse of South Africa and the biggest man-made forest in the world is created by the Greenhouse Project, which will hopefully remain for the benefit of Johannesburg’s urban dwellers for many years to come.

FEATURED IMAGE: A plant inside a tire. Photo: Tendani Mulaudzi

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