While the mothers of Westbury counsel one another, their daughters have found their own forms of association, writes Khadija Magardie
They have suffered. For decades the mothers, daughters, wives and grandmothers of Westbury have borne the brunt of the frustrations and broken dreams of the community’s men. Violence, rape, domestic assault and even murder of women are part of everyday life in the sprawling so-called coloured township in south-west Johannesburg.
Westbury has an unemployment rate of almost 70%, high suicide rates, drug- peddling, broken families, and violence both in the streets and in the home.
But enough is enough and the older women in the township have formed a support group to face the scourge of abuse head on.
After a recent spate of rapes involving elderly women, the members of Westbury’s Women of Vision were galvanised into action. In November last year they marched on the home of a suspected rapist, apprehended him, and handed him over to the police. The man was accused of raping and robbing an elderly relative.
But the women insist they are not vigilantes. They prefer to see themselves as a “crutch” during the endless waits in queues at the maintenance courts, and an advice bureau when domestic abuse becomes unbearable.
Yvette Jansen and her friend, Sophie Boyers, who together started Women of Vision, say the community’s women are not aware of their rights.
“The world has neglected Westbury, so we are doing things for ourselves,” Jansen says.
While the mothers of Westbury counsel one another at meetings in their living rooms, their daughters have found their own forms of association – in the “girl groups” or “crews” mushrooming in the township.
Glorying in names like the Virgin Crew, the Chronic Crew and the Young Majimbo Queens (the girlfriends of the infamous gang, the Majimbos), crews now dominate the educational and entertainment circles that Westbury’s young girls move in.
Linda Cornelius and her schoolmates are the Short Crew, apparently because they are all short. She says the best thing about being in a crew is that she is never bored – “daar’s altyd ‘n plan [there’s always a scheme]”.
But it is more than friends who go jolling and worshipping together (the group profess to be avid churchgoers).
In Westbury, Cornelius says, being in a crew appears almost obligatory. If you’re not in a crew, she says, people will “interfere” with you.
They warn that “niemand gaan aangaan met ons nie [nobody will interfere with us]” – and that they have fought and will again if necessary.
The Short Crew are no strangers to serious street fights with other crews, over matters ranging from gossip allegations to boyfriend-snatching.
But they protest they’re not a gang.
Medelle Petersen, the “godmother” of the Short Crew, who was in “a real gang” in her past, agrees that the main purpose of a crew is protection.
She remembers her days as a member of the Fiela Girls, where “if someone started with me, the gang would give him or her something to remember”.
But unlike Petersen’s former gang, whose activities landed her in jail on numerous occasions, the crews say none of their members are involved in illegal activity.
Each crew has its own dress style, handshake and call or whistle. Other crews, they say, are jealous of their prestige among die jonkies (the boys).
Renowned poet and journalist, and former gangster, Don Mattera, who is involved in peace efforts in Westbury, cautioned against “simplistic generalisations” that define any group formations in coloured areas as “gang-related”.
Often the rationale for being in a gang is simpler than the usual explanations. The crews reflect a need for group belonging, and the protection that comes with it, particularly in “rough” areas.
Lerise Billings, alias “Delicious”, says the boys of Westbury admire her crew for their clean-cut image. Asked about fighting, Billings says that keeping quiet means you are ‘n moegoe (a fool), so on occasion you must “save face”.
“Ons baklei net soos manne [We fight just like men],” Cornelius chips in proudly.
Some crews are formed by girls who are dating gangsters from groups like the Fast Guns, but the majority are merely groups of girls who grew up together.
The Short Crew are idolised by younger girls, who are always trying to gain their favour. But they say their priorities are finishing school, for some studying further, and for others finding a job.
For these girls, crews are the only way they, like their mothers and grandmothers, “can look out for each other”. And at the same time have “clean” fun in a group. “Dis kwaai [It’s cool],” they shout.