OpinionPREMIUM

JUSTICE MALALA: Do your bit on May 29 — it’s urgent

Just one short visit to Hammanskraal sums up the dire straits we find ourselves in

Residents of Hammanskraal carry containers of water during the cholera outbreak. Picture: Veli Nhlapo
Residents of Hammanskraal carry containers of water during the cholera outbreak. Picture: Veli Nhlapo

If you are able to, please go and vote on May 29. Your country needs you. Why? Take a walk, or drive around. Talk to people. You will realise why.

I did this a few weeks after President Cyril Ramaphosa delivered his optimistic state of the nation address on February 8. My trip reminded me of how many great empires and political experiments fell: first in little bits and bobs, then in a deluge. There are many bits and bobs we need to fix urgently or else the deluge will hit us. The fixing starts with voting on May 29.

I’m from a small village in Hammanskraal, north of Pretoria. We were famous even before the cholera outbreak last year: the late, great businessman Dr Nthato Motlana is from our neighbourhood. So is old Herman Mashaba. St Peter’s Seminary, which hosted the launch of the Black People’s Convention (the precursor to Steve Biko’s Black Consciousness Movement in the 1970s), was in Hammanskraal.

Once, we were known for the academic excellence of our schools and the fighting spirit of the people. Now we are known for the dirty water, the cholera deaths of more than 30 people last year, the corruption of the local police, and the nihilistic culture that has taken hold of young people in the area.

That’s where I went for my walk and drive. I had seen a terrible video from the area on social media. It showed DA activists cooking pap and meat in big pots. Party leaders were coming to address a small meeting. Suddenly, a bunch of ANC comrades burst onto the scene.

“You are here to buy our people with meat and samp? Why are you doing that?” the ANC group’s leader shouts.

I asked if he would be OK with members of Jacob Zuma’s new MK Party barring some ANC leaders from campaigning in KwaZulu-Natal. He mumbled: ‘It’s not the same’

They proceed to use their sjamboks and sticks to threaten the DA supporters. They force the women cooking for the expected crowd to tip their boiling pots over and destroy the precious food (Hammanskraal is terribly poor). Then they disperse the crowd with threats of violence.

I asked around until I found a fellow who said he “may or may not have been there”. He asked me why I was asking about the DA being disrupted.

“They cannot come here and talk to our people when they [the DA] are running Tshwane so badly, moving resources away from our area to white suburbs,” he said. He pointed at the road to my mother’s house. The contractor apparently stopped working when the council stopped projects due to the city being broke. I now have to take a detour to get to my mother’s house.

I asked if he would be OK with members of Jacob Zuma’s new MK Party barring some ANC leaders from campaigning in KwaZulu-Natal. He mumbled: “It’s not the same.”

A friend and I walked to Jukulyn, a part of Soshanguve township north of Pretoria. Jukulyn is notoriously violent. On New Year’s Day four people, including a teenager and her police officer uncle, were killed in a drive-by shooting. Even bread delivery trucks have armed escorts when entering the neighbourhood.

My friend and I were looking for the local councillor. We asked a young man. He looked at us warily and burst out: “Please don’t kill our councillor!”

Why did he think we were there to kill the councillor?

“It’s happening everywhere,” he answered. “And this is Jukulyn. It’s going to happen here.”

We were tired of walking. We hopped into our car and went to the pretty Mandela sports complex in Hammanskraal proper. A cash-in-transit heist took place there recently. The cash van was intercepted by an armed gang who fled with most of the money. But a lot of cash was left floating about, and a crowd swiftly gathered and proceeded to loot the van. Some tried to assault the guards when they intervened to stop them.

What makes people do that? We spoke to a young guy. “That money is insured. People can take it,” he said.

I dropped my friend off and drove back to Joburg, where I was headed to the theatre in Braamfontein. The lights were out. I asked the usher in the dark underground parking what was happening.

“South Africa,” he said. Vote!

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