For an eight-month period, between February and September 2006, photographer Sabelo Mlangeni left home late at night to be on the streets at 11pm. For his project he would spend at least three hours every night photographing teams of women assigned to clean different areas of Johannesburg. Often he would only get to bed after 3am and would then get up at dawn to carry out a full day’s work. Mlangeni returned night after night, and this commitment to his task helped build a level of trust and mutual respect between him and the cleaners. This relationship provided him with invaluable access to the habits and routines of their nightly existence.
The insights and realities he witnessed were captured photographically using 35mm black-and-white film. With this body of work Mlangeni’s aim was to ‘give a face to the many unnoticed women who clean the streets of Johannesburg each night”. The photographs, often shot at a distance, bear testimony to the unpleasant conditions under which these women work and allude to the dangerous environment in which they operate, dangers the photographer also faced as he walked the city alone with his camera.
Mlangeni has achieved more than could ever have been achieved by a documentary photographer. By spending eight months immersed in his subject, he has captured on film the enigmatic and unique quality that defines Johannesburg by night. Above all, he achieves his stated goal, that of giving invisible women a dignified presence.
When did you take your first photographs that form part of your Invisible Women series?
It was in early 2006, in summer, when it was warm. I used to walk back home to Troyeville every night after working late at the Market Photography Workshop. I was more experienced and felt safer in the city and would carry my camera with me and take photographs at night. It took a while for the women to feel comfortable with me being around, so I only started taking good photographs in May/June, at the start of winter. Initially I was afraid to carry my camera at night, but in the end only once did I have a slight problem.
Can you tell me what happened?
I had just finished taking some photographs in Bok Street one night — just after midnight. I was approached by three guys in their early twenties. They surrounded me and pulled out a gun. They wanted to know what I was doing walking around at night with a camera. I explained that I was doing a photography project and that I was a student. One of the guys was sympathetic and encouraged the others to leave me alone, so I was lucky that no harm came to me and my camera was not stolen. After they left, I took this photograph Lucky Escape. It was about 12.40am and it was in August 2006. I was surprised they showed me respect as I was shaking with fear and expected to have everything stolen.
Did you follow certain groups of women and if so, how were you able to find them each night?
Yes, I used to follow the same women every night. Specific groups of women would be responsible for cleaning the same area of the city every night. I therefore spent a lot of time working in the vicinity of Kerk Street, as this was the area designated to the group of cleaners I was working with. I explained to the women that I was not from the newspapers and was not going to do something bad with the pictures that could cause them to lose their jobs. This was something they were afraid of because they all had families and children who depended on them and the money they earned. I explained that the aim of my project was to give them a voice. By using my camera I wanted to give these unknown and seldom acknowledged people a face that was dignified. I wanted people to be aware that these were the people who kept Johannesburg clean.
Tell me about your routine. Did you go out every night and how many months did you spend working on the project?
In the beginning I went out every night for a month and a half. I would sometimes leave my camera at home and just observe the city and the routine of the cleaners. This helped me to understand the nature and circumstances of the cleaners, as well as the difficult conditions under which they worked at night. I would help them clean and was given a broom of my own. This is when they would start telling me about themselves. And they were also interested in me — where I was from and what my project was about. This is when I came up with the title for my project: Invisible Women. I started in February 2006 and finished in late September of the same year. After first going out every night, I then began going three nights a week. This was always on week nights because the cleaners do not work on weekends. I would normally arrive in the city at 11pm and work untill 2.30am. Sometimes if I had access to a car I would give the cleaners a lift back to the depot before going home. I would be up again at 7.30am so that I had time to process the film before going to work. I therefore had no time to myself during the week while working on this project and it was tough, as I often felt very tired.
You got to know these women quite well. Would you say they are afraid in the city at night?
They felt safe working together. There was an incident near Hillbrow when one cleaner was robbed and another time when one was almost hit by a car. What I think makes them scared are the things they see or witness in the process of doing their work. Sometimes people break into shops or cars when they are nearby. Some of the cleaners have even seen people getting shot. They are afraid to be questioned by the police, as what they have seen or witnessed might cause them to lose their jobs. They just want to be left alone to work so that they are able to earn money and support their families.
This is an edited extract from the catalogue to the exhibition Invisible Women by Sabelo Mlangeni, showing at the Warren Siebrits Gallery, 140 Jan Smuts Avenue, until November 9 Tel: 011 327 0000.