Matters of life and death

AFRA News No. 58 Nov 2004

Tent town: Intent on change - People from Tent Town Speak

Mama Nene

We are from Mhlopheni at Waterfall and were brought to Tent town. We were transported by the trucks and then left on the hills. We were found by Sphiwe Mazibuko (from AFRA), who took us to a hall. We left the hall and they brought tents for us here. We stayed in the tents until the tents got old. Then we got corrugated iron and planks. We erected houses with these planks. But we are suffering here. We try to keep fowls but they get stolen. We can hear gunshots but we don’t know what is happening and we are frightened. This place is cold in winter. When there is hail, we live in water.

Then the government people come and tell us to vote and we vote. What we want is the government to help us by taking us back where we came from, because back there we used to crop and keep livestock. If one would feel like having meat, one would slaughter a goat or hen. Or if you want to perform a traditional ceremony, you would get a cow from the kraal. Now there is no money, you cannot perform that ceremony. Even if we could afford it, we can’t go back to the farm where our family is buried, where our ancestors lie.

We are hurt because we vote and we do not see the benefits of voting. We have even said its better not to vote because we are not living well.

We would be happiest to go back home. There is not space in the development houses and one would not get land for cropping and grazing. It would be like living here. What we would like would be that the government takes us back to our place, where our forefathers are. We want to go back to our forefathers. To our forefathers at Waterfall, where we were born. We were born there and our forefathers passed away there. Our fathers and our mothers passed away there.

Now we do not have anything

Another View from Tent Town

My fathers and greatgrandfathers brought us to the farm. We were labour tenants working on this farm. But then the farmer told us to get rid of our livestock - cattle, goats - all that was finished. He said he does not want us to erect houses and we asked him where are we going to live when the house is old and leaking? Are we supposed to get wet and not build new houses? He said new houses attract thieves and he does not want them.

We then said to him, “Please don’t play with us here. You make us get rid of our cattle and we persevered through that. Now you do not want us to build houses. You just want us to live in the outside and get flooded when it rains.”

That was the start of the dispute and we did not have a good relationship with the farmer. Then the trucks arrived. He did not tell us that they were coming, we just saw the trucks. It was raining. The truck drivers stood here and we were told to remove our belongings. We were loaded onto the vehicles. We went not knowing where we were going, where we were going to be thrown off. We were taken to Greytown and offloaded at the hall. The municipality then offered us tents and they were put here and we live here as you find us here.

We are living here but we are not free. Here one is living in poverty. Even when you sleep or wake up one knows that one is living in poverty.

Some people told us to wait because there would be a court case with regard to what the farm owner did. Hhayi-ke, we waited for that and nothing has come up yet. Waiting outside as you find us here. We can’t even see because of dust. We are living outside. There is nothing we live on. Children go. They find temporary jobs with the Indians. We don’t even get temporary jobs as we are old.

These people said that we would be getting money. What hurt us is that we have never received it.

Yekani Magubane

I was born on the farm and worked at the farm even after I got married. My father and grandfather passed away on the farm. My grandmother and mother passed away on the farm. Then one day the farm owner took my cattle. I do not know where he took them. My goats were also taken by him.

Then there was violence on the farm and he took us and brought us here. Our living here is not like real living. We die. Should one get sick, one does not get well. Yesterday we buried a child. Really, there is no getting well if one gets sick. We are living in water. We don’t have houses. When it rains we get flooded. One has to stand because there is no way of sitting down. There is nothing safe here. Not even a little.

The farm was good compared to here. On the farm you are able to keep cattle, milk for the children to get maas. You are able to get a goat from the kraal and slaughter so that children can eat. We are dependent on the government because we are old. And if your child does not get employment, you have to use the government’s pension for everyone.

There is nothing good or beautiful here. I would be thankful to go back to the farm. I would choose to reside on the farm. On the farm one is able to crop and keep livestock. On the farm you do what you like, like cropping.

Here we are just sitting. When you feel like fresh maize you can only buy in town. You pay R3 for each cob. Where is the money for purchasing this maize? On the farm you didn’t buy maize, you take the grasscutter and go to your field, harvest and cook. I would ask to be taken back to live on the farm.

I would like to take my family and go back to where I am from. Our houses on the farm were just demolished. The tractor ran on over houses. We came with nothing. They even took our cows. It was raining when they took us away.

Staying here is not safe. There is crime here. There is no work. We depend on this pension. One would hear from the news that some people received such and such. With us, no. We have received no assistance. We voted the president in but we do not see his assistance, his assistance since we voted him in.

There is freedom, but for us, we don’t have freedom like other people. I would be happy if we could be taken back.

Nesta Madondo

We were removed from Mhlopheni in 1997. We were harrassed by the land owner, who told his worker to take out his gun and shoot us. We were too scared even to go out into the yard. We were told not to go out to the toilet and we must relieve ourselves in the yard. Then he demolished our houses with a tractor. The houses built of grass were burnt. My stove, which I had just paid R1000 for, was left in the yard. The land owner threw us out. He took our stuff and threw us out at eTolini. Rain poured on us until the end of the day. A red car came at around six in the evening. It was Sphiwe Mazibuko (from AFRA) who asked us what was happening and we told him. Sphiwe found a camp for us and we loaded our goods, but most had been stolen. The bicycle which my child rode on to school was stolen, even our beds.

On the farm, we grew our food. Here, I just sit and don’t do anything. I do not have money; I am just spending the government’s money. My children are unemployed and just sit at home. They don’t attending school as we do not have money.

All I am saying is that if only the government can take us back to the land of our forefathers, to their graves, I would be very grateful. I do not want to be taken to the township. I love our forefather’s land. In the township I would not be able to crop and graze cattle.

Themba Mabuza

We are living in a graveyard. When it rains, those flowers and stuff placed by people maintaining the graves get flooded into our houses.

There's ’flu. Children die and I won't count how many of them have died. Just yesterday we were burying a child. Crime - in the past year my cousin has been shot.

I have written a letter to Premier Sbu Ndebele. I put in all the complaints in the letter. All of them. I did not leave out even one. When I called to find out if the premier received the letter, I was told he was overseas. They said it would be better to fax tomorrow. That showed me they do not care about us. Where do we fax from? They said the children's school. We said they do not go to school. You can go out here and you'll find children playing because there are no schools here in Tent Town.

It's better for the premier to come and see with his own eyes. Especially when it rains. We want him to see the cold days here. To come and see for himself how we live here. Water gets into the house and into the furniture. We still haven't got a response from the premier - we even sent a fax.

When I tried to find out what was going on, I was told that the owner of the farm where we all come from has denied that we ever lived on his farm. I said that he's denying that because it has been years since we were evicted. A person who was 15 when he lived on the farm is now 25. We were removed in 1997 and today it has been nine years.

Our forefathers have lived there for 140 years. And now they say it's the white's land. Why was it not the white man's land for the past 400 years? It's the white man's land now that our government is governing. We are free today. We are free but being chased away from our forefather's land. How are we going to say that we are free?

Where are the promises made by the government during voting periods, when the candidates run around all over the show. They even enter our houses and drink tea and make promise. They give us food bags. Those bags are given so that we vote. Once voting is over, everything is over.

We are refugees in South Africa. So we ask the government to show us our land so that we can go and fight for our land. I have the energy to go and fight because where I am I am a refugee.

What I can see is that we are now tired. For 10 years we have been hoping that the government would assist us and that the court would assist us. Now we are thinking of taking the government to court. And should that fail? The children who were young at Mhlopheni, that’s us, we are men now. It’s us who don’t even get employment. So we will go back to the farm and stay there forcefully. If the boer shoots us, he can just do that, because it’s the same as staying here. We have long been shot, we’re dead. We are going home to fight for our land. The decision we have made is to crawl back there; even if we get beaten, we’ll stay. Should he fight, we’ll also fight. If blood is to be spilled, it will be as it happened in 1976. We’re coming out of exile to fight for our land. We’ll go back by force.

To the government, we are now saying: “Government, we voted for you and did everything but we do not see you doing any work for us. We want to die now.”