Many of the residents of the Joe Slovo informal settlement do not have a regular
source of income, writes Vongani Fungene
The 2 000-strong Joe Slovo informal settlement sticks out like a sore thumb,
nestled adjascent to modest suburbs such as Westdene, Crosby and Westbury.
Smoke billows from the more than 1000 tin shacks, catching the attention of passers-by. This is a memorial by a destitute community to the one-time minister
of housing, Joe Slovo, a man they believe had their interests at heart.
On weekdays the place is abuzz with activity. Women go about their chores, carrying heavy water buckets on their heads from the communal taps to their shacks. Sundays are marked by churchgoers in colourful regalia heading to the
services of their different denominations. Others stay home and prepare meals
for the day.
This tumble of tin and timber built on reddish sand captures a kaleidoscope of
poverty and squalor. Many of the inhabitants do not have a regular source of
income. A dumping site lies nearby and make- shift chemical toilets are squashed
in between the shacks a fertile ground of infectious disease for hundreds of
children playing alongside domestic animals such as dogs.
“I don’t like it here, but I have no choice. I can’t find a better place,” says
Solly Gabole (51), who stays in number five a shack address not recognised for
postal deliveries. An electrician working in Newlands, Gabole is married and is
the father of four children, who stay with their mother in Taung, Kimberley
his hometown.
Like any other migrant worker, Gabole came to Johannesburg so that he could provide for his family. He visits his family every two months when he has managed to save enough money. Gabole says his salary is not enough to support
his family, because he also needs to eat.
Collen Modau, who also lives in the settlement, says many residents struggle to
make ends meet. “They make a living by doing piece jobs; some run spaza shops
and others sell beer.” Modau survives by doing odd jobs and gets some financial
support from a nephew who lives in nearby Crosby.
“Nobody would want to live in this place if they could live differently. People
moved here because of their circumstances,” says ward councillor, Fadiel Moosa,
whose constituency includes another informal settlement, Impilo.
Moosa says housing is the most pressing problem in the area. He says the Johannesburg municipality has purchased land in Kathrada Park to build houses
for the Impilo residents. “A meeting was held in early 2001 and more will follow
with Propnet to talk about purchasing land to build houses for Joe Slovo residents.”
Charity organisations are also moving in to assist. Children of Fire, an NGO
that deals with badly burned children, many the victims of shack fires, is working closely with a British organisation to plan a new housing concept for
the area.
Moosa points to the three taps installed in Joe Slovo a week before the municipal elections. In the past the area had only one. Moosa says these taps
and the chemical toilets are temporary relief measures until there is secured
tenure for the communities.
Of the more than 110 children eligible to go to crche, only five do so. Parents
say they can’t afford the fees. Many are not aware of the R110 a month child
support grant from the government.
Many of the children go to Coronationville Secondary School, though a considerable number do not attend school at all. The school, a cream-white, brown and blue building punctuated by broken windows and iron doors, is in dire
need of repairs. Visitors are advised not to use the toilets because of their
unhygienic state.
The school hall is used for community meetings. Residents often come late to
meetings because many appear too preoccupied with their daily routines. Monica
Mugolo, a woman in her late 30s, with her hair drawn back into brown extensions,
starts the meeting without most of the residents.
One resident after another stands up to raise their problems. Unemployment is
the main concern. One woman says people need jobs, but proper houses are also a priority. Another resident says people often don’t have money to give their loved ones proper burials.
Mlungisi Cakile suggests the residents choose a secretary, a chair- person and a treasurer and pay a R20 joining fee and R35 a month to a particular burial company, which the residents can then use when there is a death in the family a funeral cover that includes children under the age of 25. No one suggests contacting different companies to compare which terms are more favourable and no one guarantees residents safety of their investments.
Residents who would like to receive post are told to pay R2 towards the cost of
renting a postbox. A visitor to the meeting points out that the government has
agreed to a free postbox for every citizen who does not get free postal delivery. There are more than 400 family units in the area, so R2 a family would
raise R800, but no one questions what would happen to the surplus after the postal fee is paid out.
A Captain Mooila, from the Brixton South African Police Services, talks to the
community about the need for closer working relations with the police. He also
touches on other issues, such as the use of drugs and alcohol abuse. Crime is
rampant at Joe Slovo, and Moila uses this opportunity to urge the community to
“serve as the eyes of the police”. There are also landlords who run shebeens and
often throw out tenants who fail to pay their monthly rentals.