Joburg has lost its seat among the world’s iconic capitals

Since early spring last year, I have spent three months away from home, visiting old friends in some of the world’s most iconic capitals.

In August, at the height of the northern hemisphere summer, I spent just under a month in London, returning to that city for the first time since 1999. 

How changed I found it — more cosmopolitan, more diverse and multicultural than I could have imagined when, as the foreign correspondent for Africa’s largest Sunday newspaper, I lived there in the 1990s.

There has been so much growth and development across London: the gentrification of places I used to live; the sprucing up of parks and public places; the cleaning up of hitherto dangerous neighbourhoods. Don’t get me wrong, there is much that does not work in London. But there are, at least, signs of maintenance — that they are trying to keep up with keeping the city functioning.

I remarked on how clean the inner city was when a friend pointed to the Union Jack bunting flying over high streets everywhere, reminding me it was just two months since the Queen’s Jubilee celebrations. Local municipalities and retail outlets had, she said, made a huge effort to pretty up shopping areas. “Well, that’s different,” was the thought that ran through my head.

Johannesburg sashays to its very own rhythm – a swagger that is at once cool and sophisticated

There were new landmarks that have changed the landscape of this city. The Shard thus called because, well, it looks like a shard of glass; the Gherkin, a giant bullet-shaped building that rises above its ancient neighbours; the Millennium Bridge — a footbridge that links the banks of the river Thames. It all feels like a city upgrading for the future. 

In December, I visited Hamburg, a major port city in northern Germany that is connected to the North Sea by the Elbe River. This beautiful city is home to the Elbphilharmonie, a concert hall in the HafenCity quarter of Hamburg, on the Grasbrook peninsula of the Elbe River — and aptly nicknamed the Elphi.

Despite the huge controversy (it went over budget 10-fold and took six years longer to build than planned for)  this building is a work of architectural magnificence. Swiss architects Herzog and de Meuron chose to situate this building on a brick warehouse that dates back to the 1960s, which sits in the middle of the river Elbe. This means there are amazing views from the shimmering glass building that gives the impression of movement, like the waves of the sea. A feat of modern design, it is breathtaking.

This is a new European landmark, a city seeing its future and planning for it.

In Berlin after Christmas, I spent much time with my jaw hanging open at the Humboldt Forum, which opened its doors in 2020. This is a museum dedicated to human history, art and culture and is located in the Berlin Palace on the Museum Island in the historic centre of Berlin. It honours the Prussian scholar brothers Wilhelm and Alexander von Humboldt. 

Three decades of planning has resulted in this extraordinary building that is a free space for all who enter, where you can see performance art in the courtyards or hold a conversation with strangers in one of the talking lounges.

I was with a friend visiting the ethnological collections and Asian art permanent exhibition, who described this free public space as the next step towards citizen participation that takes Berlin into the future. 

In Prague, I marvelled at the medieval stone arch bridge that crosses the Vltava River, the Charles bridge. Covered with statues, including that of my family patron saint, St Anthony, the construction of this bridge began in 1357 and finished in the early 15th century. 

It has blackened over time with soot and pollution. A cleaning programme is underway and will take several years to complete. Already, some of the statues have been restored to their beautiful original sandstone colour. It’s part of the preservation of a much loved, treasured city landmark.

Now I am in New York, one of my favourite places in the world. Having last visited in 2019, before Covid unravelled us all, I am witnessing the valiant attempts being made to get this city back on its feet. I have returned to a very different, bleaker, New York. On some of the world’s most famous retail streets — Madison, Fifth and Park Avenues — there are many empty shops and buildings. Plastered everywhere are “retail space available” signs.

The local papers put this down to several factors. They say there has been a digital disruption to people’s shopping habits. Shoppers moved online when the pandemic hit and many have not gone back to shops in person. 

Then there has been an exodus from New York City. Many residents fled during the worst months of the pandemic, and have not returned. An estimated nine percent of African Americans are reported to have moved out of the city because it is no longer affordable.

But the lights are still on in New York.  And they proudly announce (like Hamburg, Berlin, Prague and London) that their tap water is drinkable and plentiful. No lack of maintenance on the pipe system there then.  Also, the streets are constantly being repaired. 

There’s a sense of hope for those who remain — there is planning afoot to ensure a prosperous future.

And then there’s Johannesburg — a city I love and always said I would never leave. Well, I’m rethinking that! On a recent walk in the prestigious neighbourhood, Parkwood, I counted 42 “For Sale” signs on big houses with large grounds and swimming pools and some tennis courts and solar panels on roofs and generators. Where are these people moving to? 

We Johannesburgers fear that little will change our powerlessness in the foreseeable future — and damaged systems that need replacing, not fixing, means our precarious water supply could take decades to get right.

Then we have pot-holed roads, huge issues around safety, ridiculously high femicide rates — a woman is killed every four hours in South Africa — off-the-charts gender-based violence statistics. It is enough to make you weep.

And, unlike Prague and the rest of the world, we appear to be completely unconcerned about, and disrespectful of, our national treasures. 

Recent news reports abound of the Johannesburg Art Gallery’s flooded basements storing some of our treasured art collections, paintings and artefacts.

In my neighbourhood, the local park which should be maintained by the municipality has been taken over and is being run by the residents’ association.

Yes, the global capitals of the world are ageing. There is not a major city in the world that is not in some state of disrepair, in need of maintenance and upkeep. 

Us? Our public coffers have been bled dry by venal, selfish, people. Money that should have been spent on maintenance and new systems, where is it?

For me, load-shedding is the last straw.

I’m a nervous driver; going through robots during load-shedding is a major source of anxiety for me and so, when two drugged out homeless people direct traffic, in opposition to one another, and then stop motorists to ask for money, it is more than I can bear.

I’ve always been upbeat about Johannesburg. It sashays to its very own rhythm — a swagger that is at once cool and sophisticated. It has hidden treasures that are there to find should you go looking.

And so I’m angry that my rush of pleasure when I think about Africa’s financial hub has been replaced with one of frustration and fear. And my biggest worry is that we have begun travelling down a path of no return.   

The views expressed are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the Mail & Guardian.

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