For Better or Worse!

By Gordon Mtakati

"Gordon Mtakati was born on the 19th of January 1965 in Cape Town, South Africa, and grew up in Nyanga and Langa Townships, which are also in Cape Town.
At present he lives in Midrand, Johannesburg, in the Gauteng Province. His professional background is in human resources management and development, sales and marketing, and writes books as a hobby. He has a Master's degree in Business Administration, and enjoys political debates about global issues. He enjoys assisting others by volunteering in programs such as the American Field Services (AFS) exchange program, and other community services.
He is a huge soccer supporter for his national team, Bafana Bafana, and the Kaizer Chiefs football club. Gordon appreciates seeing people live a good quality of life in a peaceful and crime free environment. He seriously dislikes racism. He believes in Ubuntu (humanity) and strives to do good for others as part of his values.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris UK
• Release date: Jun 9, 2010
• ISBN: 9781453551769

Gordon Mtakati

Gordon Mtakati was born on the 19th of January 1965 in Cape Town, South Africa, and grew up in Nyanga and Langa Townships, which are also in Cape Town. At present he lives in Midrand, Johannesburg, in the Gauteng Province. His professional background is in human resources management and development, sales and marketing, and writes books as a hobby. He has a Master's degree in Business Administration, and enjoys political debates about global issues. He enjoys assisting others by volunteering in programs such as the American Field Services (AFS) exchange program, and other community services. He is a huge soccer supporter for his national team, Bafana Bafana, and the Kaizer Chiefs football club. Gordon appreciates seeing people live a good quality of life in a peaceful and crime free environment. He seriously dislikes racism. He believes in Ubuntu (humanity) and strives to do good for others as part of his values.

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Copyright © 2010 by Gordon Mtakati.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

Cover by Princess Mtakati

Editing by Amelia Johnson

Names in the book have been changed.

This book was printed in the United States of America.

To order additional copies of this book, contact:

Xlibris Corporation

0-800-644-6988

www.xlibrispublishing.co.uk

[e-mail]

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Contents

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

PROLOGUE

Chapter 1    Adventures

Chapter 2    Character Builder

Chapter 3    Mind Changing Opportunities

Chapter 4    School in the U.S.A.

Chapter 5    Return Home

Chapter 6    At Home

Chapter 7    The Hospital

Chapter 8    University Time

Chapter 9    Another Page

Chapter 10    The Journey Continues

Chapter 11    A Gold Miner—That’s Me!

Chapter 12    I am Married

Chapter 13    Gold Mine Life

Chapter 14    Back to the City

Chapter 15    Stress!

Conclusion

Acknowledgements

I sincerely and really thank:

•    Princess, my wife for all her support and love while I was busy staying away from the family table, but, sitting close to our personal computer’s key board. Also to thank her for listening to all my experiences of when I was growing up, especially at the Nyanga East Township.

•    I would also like to thank our children Diane, Chantal and Gordon junior for their understanding that I was busy either with my studies, book writing, or chatting on the internet.

•    Mostly I give my thanks to Mary and Tom Whitney for their support, encouragement and confidence throughout the writing of this book. I dedicate to them my sincerest thanks, my love and friendship.

•    I greatly appreciate and thank my host family, Diane and Chuck Rush for their support, direction, understanding and education in the process of writing my first autobiography. I will never forget them even when I am very old in an old age home—one day in the future. Thank you for coming to South Africa!

•    I would like to thank American Field Services (AFS) for giving me an opportunity to become an exchange student, and to get to understand the world better. Especially Ms. L. Linzel for being there and even coming to South Africa, just to see how I was doing.

•    I dedicate this book to Mr. Nelson R. Mandela for being the template of role models. In a unique manner, he made me consider the idea of writing this kind of a book. Thank you Tata! Maybe I will meet you one day.

•    Believe it or not, I also dedicate this book to Marshal Mathers, who is known as Eminem, for inspiration. He encouraged me through his music to write what I have experienced the way it took place—without taking its sensitivity into account and becoming as honest as possible. Maybe I will also meet you one day.

•    Oprah and Dr. Phil gave hope to me that one day this book is going to be published—through their talk shows on Tuesdays. Thank you for that. Meeting you will be nice!

•    Lastly but not least, I would like to thank everyone who learned something from this book—even about human behavior. I promise all of you that I will write another one in the near future—keep on reading and referring to this one. Thank you!

Prologue

The Book

For Better or Worse!

I am a South African citizen whether anybody likes it or not. I fought for it to be free, and become a democratically governed nation. The 1994 elections in South Africa confirmed that we had started to achieve our goals of becoming free. The question is free from whom? Yes, keep on asking!!!

This book reflects my thinking of what I have gone through and experienced. Does it matter? Did a person, who had not experienced the Apartheid created Township life, miss out? Yes, they did! Am I glad that I experienced this life, and not the life in a nice suburb? You expect me to answer this?

When I look at the Township life today, I see some sort of evolution. At the beginning it was created by the Apartheid policies and objectives. In 1994 South Africa became free, and the Apartheid infrastructure is still there overwhelming visitors to this nation of ours. Is it any black person’s fault in South Africa that these Townships are still there? Who is in charge of the country politically today? Yes, it is a black government. Financially and economically, who is still in charge? But again, who cares!

When I was young in the Township of Nyanga we were taught how to rob an individual. We were educated on what to expect the day any of us got arrested for whatever reason.

For example, one day, I was charged with the role of getting money for that day. I went to the shops in the terminus. I saw a target in a fishery and he was busy buying fish and chips. When I was busy with this action, our teachers, who were our Township gangsters, were waiting about a half-kilometer from the shop. They had an idea of what I was going to do, although the acting was up to me.

I entered the shop and asked the man for directions and he told me that he was going that way, and I must wait for him. After he paid for the stuff, I noted that he had a substantial amount of cash. Therefore, he was a suitable target. We started on our way and when we were about 300 meters from my group, I started to cry. He was concerned why I was crying, and he wanted to know the reason. I cried loud and other people, especially adults, started looking in our direction. Tears were coming down my cheeks, and I was crying for no real reason. While crying, some of the guys came and wanted to know why I was crying, and this man (his age I would estimate at about 35 years old), was also worried with my crying. When my friends asked why I was crying, I told them that this man just took my money and he bought fish and chips with it. Other old people gathered around and started to shout at him asking why he did something like that to a child. I was about 15 years old then. He got confused and told everyone that I was telling lies.

Because I was crying for real and loud, my friends wanted to know the amount he took from me, and I told them it was R50. During those years, this was a lot of money but other people were earning it in a week. The guys told him that they were going to take it by force from him. They searched him and found about R20, and they took it along with the fish and chips. They told the man to run or they would beat him up for what he had done to a child, which I was. The man ran and left behind all the money he had with him, along with his food.

After he ran away, the big guys in the group, who were also agt en twentig that is twenty eight, gangsters in jail, congratulated me, and told me that I would do well in jail. To me this was huge praise, and knew that if I got arrested one day, I wouldn’t have problems.

The purpose of this story is to show what was taking place in our Townships when I was still very young. Luckily, there were no guns during these years, and most people carried knives as weapons.

The question is, was this kind of behavior developed and nurtured by the Apartheid system? If there was no Apartheid system in South Africa, could I have done something like this? Am I just blaming poor Apartheid for all my cruelty? It is your call so you make your choice. The fact that about 90% of the population was forced by Apartheid laws to stay in an area that was only 13% of the country could have made people loose some of their humanity, Ubuntu?

When I look back, I note that I came far and was lucky to survive. How many others in that group of ours survived? I know only one person from our group who has a government (RDP)—Reconstruction and Development Program house. Half of our group was killed either by being stabbed to death or shot. The other half is still in jail. When I visit my home, and they hear that I am in town, they invite me to come and provide them with some goodies and money if possible. Again, my question is, if what we experienced in our country never took place, would these lives have been wasted? This is only one example that I mention.

Today in the new South Africa, the Townships still exist, and many different stories can be told and tourists still come and visit. Many Bed and Breakfast businesses have opened up and different kinds of visitors come to them for different reasons. Homes and houses of politicians have become museums with many stories of the Apartheid in them.

There are different types of killings that also take place. These include, but are not limited to, vehicle hijackings, babies being raped, grandparents being raped, babies being dumped, and many more. But, life must go on. Again, do we still blame poor Apartheid for these things, even with the new South Africa of 1994?

People who are not white mostly experience the Township experience. The most affected areas are homes for blacks and coloreds, while the Indian areas are safer.

Some of us were lucky and able to afford houses in areas that were previously for white people only. Now we are also targeted for house break-ins, car hijackings, and basic crime. We are seen as plastics and not leather. We have become soft. We are becoming the middle-class to upper class of the Historically Disadvantaged majority. Does anybody care that these things take place, or it has become a dog-eat-dog society? Is it fair if the poor Apartheid is still blamed for these happenings?

Today in South Africa we have white people who have been termed terrorists. They bomb our Townships and rail stations used mostly by non-whites. But, I will not dwell on this point.

Since the start of the New South Africa there have been many developments. Has the life of most South Africans (for a change—of all colors) improved or become worse? If Apartheid was never abolished could the lives of all South Africans been better or only for a certain group? Are most South Africans happy that there is no longer Apartheid? For an answer on this one, I want you to take a guess.

The good news is that all South Africans are trying to survive. We either get good jobs that will sustain our way of life or not. Some people start their own business. Other people turn to fraud and hope that they will make huge fortunes, but end up in jail since the government, through the Scorpions, will investigate you and take everything that belongs to you and your close relatives. Everyone keeps on trying to survive. We also play Lotto hoping to get lucky and rich just like that. One must understand the odds of winning Lotto, and the possibility of becoming addicted to gambling.

I believe that South Africa needs to increase the number of middle class citizens, and reduce the number of poor people. Townships need to be developed, with possibly even shopping malls.

More jobs must be created through encouraging small businesses and more individuals to become entrepreneurs. The current government is working hard and smartly trying to achieve these objectives, which I wish for.

Is there a vacuum between were we come from and were we are today? Personally I think there is. The feelings, emotions, experiences, and realities we had to accept have been just put aside and not dealt with. Lastly I will close by asking, are black South Africans happy today? Is it normal that they are famous for being friendly and always smiling to white people?

Enjoy the book and learn what it is all about. Thanks.

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Opening the Curtain!

Chapter 1

Adventures

South Africa is a country with a lot of books that are not written. The Kaffirtjie boy was one of the people who grew up in South Africa. He was born at the Peninsula hospital in Cape Town in 1965 on Tuesday the 19th of January at 10:00 on a summer morning. When he was born, he was the second born in the family with an older brother who was handicapped, could not talk or walk, born in 1963. Their mother and father were not married but staying together at the mother’s family home.

When Kaffirtjie was three years old, he remembers when his father tried to steal him. His father Michael came to the house and stood at the gate and called him. They took a walk for about 300 meters from the house, and his grandmother saw him walking with his father. She called neighbors and Kaffirtjie’s mother to stop his father from stealing him. The neighbors came running with his mother. They took him from Michael, shouted at him, and promised to beat him up if he repeated or did that again. That was the last day that Kaffirtjie saw his father.

A few months later, Kaffirtjie was introduced to a new person with the name of Lenny. He came all the time to see Kaffirtjie’s mother, Beatrice. They used to go out and she would return the following day. Within a year, she gave birth to a girl with the name of Rudy. Kaffirtjie was very excited about this, and he used to run to the shop at a very young age of 4 ½ years old to buy whatever was needed for Rudy. The shops were about five kilometers from the house, with a few cars and busses passing by.

Lenny moved in the house to stay with Beatrice. He was unemployed and hunting for employment. He use to receive temporal employment once in a while, and sometimes even got permanent work that lasted for a few weeks or months. Two years later they had another child, a girl with the name of Sonia. She was Beatrice’s fourth child. Beatrice worked as a nanny and housekeeper in different houses of white people, and her salary was very little. If I am correct, the salary was about R50 per month or a little more, but for sure, not more than R75 per month.

Lenny started a business on weekends, and he sold milk in one litters and pig heads cooked or raw at a hostel. He used to wake up early in the morning, around five o’clock, with Kaffirtjie to buy the necessary milk and the pig heads in Gugulethu, at 3A shopping center. Milk was in a case of 12 litters and he used to buy a maximum of two cases. Pig heads were from 20 to 50 heads, depending on availability of money.

This was a very good business because, by the end of the weekend, all goods use to be sold. Any that remained on Sunday night, was sold on credit with little higher price.

Kaffirtjie’s friends use to laugh at him for selling pig heads, but he never worried about it. Lenny promised him that one day he would buy him a bicycle when he had more money.

At this stage, Kaffirtjie was calling him daddy to Rudy (Tata ka-Rudy), not his daddy. Lenny received a room at Langa hostels in Zone 24. Here he was going to stay with Beatrice, since the one room they were going to stay in had other two couples who were staying there. In one room of four meters by four, six adults stayed in it. Next to each bed there was a very small cabinet to put in their groceries and alcohol if they had any. Each bed was made by building a hole-like rectangle, and a door with hinges was built to close the hole, then a mattress was put on top of the door. This door allowed the hole to be used as a lockable cabinet.

Zone 24 was the name known for the Langa hostel were Lenny was staying. Kaffirtjie and the other children used to come and visit once a month from Saturday morning to Sunday afternoon. Kaffirtjie used to look after the children when they came and went back to Nyanga, where we, now you know that Kaffirtjie is me, Gordon, were staying with our Grandmother known as Ouma. When we arrive at Zone 24, we were shared among the other roommates’ beds, since they did not have children. Sometimes, without reason, we had to sleep on the floor. To us, as children, it was nice to come and visit. The reason for this was that every hostel dweller used to be very nice to us. A hostel had about ten rooms with the same number or people sharing a room as in Lenny’s room. The visitations took place for a long time, until I was even available to go to town and buy groceries for our Ouma in Nyanga. So, I use to arrive with the children on Saturday mornings, and then take the money to go by train to Salt River and buy meat at the butcher’s, which was believed to be cheaper than at other places.

When I was about ten years old, we started a disco business. This business involved hiring of a Tent to build a hall were people would pay money to enter and dance to music. We used to hire a powerful music center, and I was the DJ. Beatrice was selling alcohol through the window of the bedroom. The tent was built in a way that allowed the room window to be inside the tent, next to the entrance. Lenny was managing security and collecting money at the door. The disco use to start at seven in the evening, and went until seven in the morning. All of our cousins and relatives used to come, basically every weekend when the disco was going. This business became better than selling milk and pig heads. Therefore, after arriving at Zone 24, Lenny and Beatrice did not continue for long with the milk and pig heads business. They started a business of selling alcohol that lead to the disco business. Both businesses were doing very well. When I look at it today, the funny thing is that I had problems when I needed money to buy clothes for myself to go to school. Beatrice used to steal money and give it to me so that I could go and buy clothes for school. I used to go to work with her when the schools were closed, so that I could work in the garden for something like R5 per day, and when I bought new clothes, she would tell Lenny that I used the money from the garden work. The other children did not have problems with receiving money for their clothes, although they were younger than me. But, I did not have any bad feeling about this, since I knew that Beatrice was going to steal the money when necessary. She never liked this, but she never told me, I could only see what was happening and the fighting when the money was missing. We are talking of less than R100, per six months.

When the business was very good, the hostel residents started complaining about the noise, and wanted the business to be stopped, including the selling of alcohol. This made Lenny and Beatrice look for other accommodations. They received a house at Zone 22, which was changed from a hostel into Township houses. Today Lenny still stays here at this house.

Beatrice was very happy with having a house of her own, with two bedrooms, a kitchen, bathroom and toilet, and a dining room, with a small yard that included a small, nice garden. Lenny had mixed feelings about what happened at the hostel, and about the move to the house, since it meant no business but he would need to work in a more formal way. This meant going and looking for a job.

He received a motorbike license and received a job as a motorbike driver at a dentist and later at a medical center delivering stuff for both places. Today he still works at the same medical center.

Life in the new house was very different for me. During the business time at Zone 24, Beatrice and Lenny had another child who was named Julia. Julia was also sent to stay with Ouma at a very young age. When the house in Zone 22 was received, they decided that Rudy and Sonia should come and stay with them.

This action left Kaffirtjie to stay with his Grandmother called Ouma, Auntie Maggie, Nokhuthula—cousin, Doris—another cousin’s daughter, and Julia. In the family of six members, I was the main one sent all the time to go and ask for food money from Beatrice. I use to go to Langa (Zone 22) every weekend to receive money and go to Salt River, where I bought meat and other affordable and available food stuff for the Nyanga family of six members.

A normal Saturday would go as follows: I would wake up at six in the morning so that at seven I was ready to go to Langa first. Ouma would give me some money to go to Langa and collect the money for groceries. I would take a bus, at that time, there were no taxis like there are now, and arrive there at about 7:30 a.m., and in most cases I was the one who was awaking them at Langa. When I arrived, I would jump the gate since it was still locked. After knocking the door was always opened by Beatrice. I waited in the dining room, until I was offered food for breakfast.

While I ate, I would hear Beatrice begging for money from Lenny. He would have a few negative words to say first, and then give her the money. This happened basically every weekend when I arrived there. She even changed her tactic by asking for it in the evening (Friday night) before I arrive. The disadvantage of this tactic was that I would miss the breakfast that I used to receive. When I arrived I would receive the money right as I entered and would run for the station, since I was using the train to go to Salt River.

One morning, when I arrived, I found Beatrice being beaten by Lenny. I knocked at the door, and no one asked me to come in or even open the door for me. So, I entered and found Beatrice being kicked and clapped in the kitchen. My two sisters (Rudy and Sonia) were in the bedroom. First, I didn’t know what to do. Then I tried to stop Lenny from beating Beatrice by asking him, and trying to take the stick, intonga, he was also using. I ended up being beaten up as well. Since Lenny was clapping her a lot, she took a water bucket and put it over her head. I remember when she was telling me to go and take the money on their dressing table, while the bucket was still on her head. She was scared to take it off, because she could receive a stray clap maybe while talking to me.

On other weekends, I used to receive bad treatment from my two sisters, Rudy and Sonia. I remember one weekend, they saw me in their bedroom while I was still waiting for the money. They yelled at me, asking what I wanted in their room. They said that I might steal some of their things. I still do not really know which things I could have stolen. In this situation, I would go out without talking, and I would wait in the dining room. This example made me not to go in any of the bedrooms, even the kitchen. I started not wanting to eat even if food was offered. Beatrice wanted to know one day, why I did not eat there anymore, but I lied and gave other reasons such as I ate before going there. One day I told her when she came to Nyanga, about what Rudy and Sonia did that led me to not wanting to eat there. When she heard this, she called all three of us and lectured us that we were from the same mother and we should not treat each other that way again. I remember, I was the first one to forgive, and promised to forget, but today I am writing about it. Did I really forget and forgive?

In Nyanga, we used to really suffer from hunger. This happened mostly after Ouma stopped to sell alcohol. Our Nyanga home was a shebeen, and this brought a lot of money and food on our tables. The main reason that the business (if I was to call it a business) declined was that the Government was very hush-hush on shebeens and Ouma was very old and not willing to run from police all the time. I remember that bottles of alcohol used to be hidden underground in the garden, and we would quickly plant plantjies (small growing plants) on top of the hole. After the police had left, we would re-transplant the plantjies to other places and take out the alcohol. We specialized with the selling of Liberstein wine. It was kept in 4.5 liter bottles.

After the business was gone, we didn’t have much for food. I was also older and not very willing to go to Langa and get the treatment and see abuse as I use to. Luckily, Ouma was getting pension every second month. We would wait for this money, and when it was very tough, and then I would go to Langa. At least it was not a frequent thing. Sometimes Beatrice would bring food herself. Rudy and Sonia loved to come and visit Nyanga so that they could play with other children and also to show us their new stuff they were bought. We took them as the kids from the rich house. The only thing they did not like was the hunger they would experience when they were at Nyanga. On tough days, we would eat porridge for supper. Everyone would eat porridge without complaining, but we would not go next door to ask for food. The kids from one of our neighbors, the Khumalo family, would come to our house with their plates of food during supper, to eat at our house. Maybe to show off, but we would not ask to taste or eat with them. It was very tough, but I knew that one day I would work and buy food for my Nyanga family.

At this age, I had a life outside home, with other kids in the Township. I was a star kerrim player, and learning to play table tennis. At the Nyanga Township Center, was where all these games were played. I use to be in the team that represented our Township for the kerrim games. I was a highly respected kid in the game. We would play after school until late and during weekends.

There were more than fifty township kids who are waiting in line for a game. Therefore, I must try to win at least one game since I had been waiting for a long time in line for my turn to play. This made many kids to become good in their favorite games because competition became very high, and it was a matter of winning to keep playing. Also, this made a number of boys to fight because of different arguments that came up while or during the play. I had a couple of good fights too (good fights represent fights I won), and a few I lost. For example, one day I was in line for a table tennis game. I was waiting for table B because table A was for good players, and I was not good yet. But, more than anything, I knew that I had to win the first game by any means. Just before I played, another guy who was about five to ten years older than me, wanted to play before me. He was a table A type of a player, but he only wanted to play at our table because he stated that he needed a warm-up by one of us. Since I was next to play and I was already counting the score (not that if I was not counting he was going to take my place), I told him that I was playing next. He told me not to waste his time, no matter what I said he would play before I did. Luckily, I always carried a knife with me. This type of a knife was famous and was known as Okapi. I took my Okapi out and removed or trimmed my nails with it while telling this guy that I WAS going to play no matter what. Unless he was prepared to die for the game, maybe he would play it in heaven. A group of my close friends (about five/six guys) were highly supportive of me, and they knew that I was going to stab this guy if I did not play as I planned. Unfortunately, this guy realized that I might really stab him, and he said I could play and he would play after me. He justified by saying that if I won he would win the game in a record-short period to embarrass me. So, I played and won. When he was ready to play, I instructed him to wait in the line like the other people and wait for his turn, and the person who was going to play after me should play. If he did not want to wait, I would stab him for the other guy. This guy just shouted and made comments that I was not prepared to injure him as long as he did not play. At the end, we all played nicely, and he decided to go to table A and waited for his turn to play at that table. Everybody who was in the building was aware, and waiting to see if he was going to be injured or possibly die. This is one of many examples that I can give on my experiences at the Nyanga Township Center.

On the kerrim game side, as I said, I was a highly recognized player. I was seen as one of the champions. We used to compete with other townships such as Langa, Gugulethu and some colored area townships such as Bontheiwel and Netreg. One day, we had a game competing with the Gugulethu Township at their center. I did not come to our center that morning to prepare to go. My grandmother gave me some work to do, and it was not possible for me to finish and go. The Nyanga Township Manager, also known as Teach, was not ready to leave and play at Gugulethu without me available. He came to my house with two of my friends and asked for me from my grandmother. When she saw the visitors in a car and they told her that it would be very tough for our township to win if I was not available she allowed me to go. From my house we only went to the center to collect other players, and I was not given time to practice so that I could warm-up and plan how to play in the competition. Teach told me that I did not need any training or warm-up.

We arrived at Gugulethu and we found the hall full of spectators and supporters for the Gugulethu folks. We had very few supporters but some of the Gugulethu people had heard how good we played. I played one game in a partnership, and one game as a single player. I won both games with high scores. My favorite was the partners game. My partner broke the packing and nothing went in, the other guy played few times, and I put everything in and only the Barry remained for us, and I put in a good position for my partner, the next guy played, but not all of theirs, and my partner finished the game. The whole game took less than five minutes. The Gugulethu supporters were now supporting us. At the end of the competition, we won the contest and we took a small trophy to our center. According to my knowledge, there was no money involved. We didn’t pay money to the challenger and the winner did not receive money. From the center budgets, the trophy was bought by both centers, and the winner took the trophy.

This was one of the best ways to create unity within a township’s youth. We knew each other very well. I had friends from Zwelitsha location, Mau-Mau location, and our location, known as Nyanga. The funny part was that, in Gugulethu, if I went there alone, I could get beaten up because I was from Nyanga. We also beat boys who came from Gugulethu. If I happen to be in Gugulethu, it should not be known that I was from Nyanga. In most cases I would say that I was from Langa. Langa and Gugulethu boys did not have fights amongst them. Maybe one of the factors could be that they were a good distance apart. Nyanga and Gugulethu were divided by a forest.

For instance, there were students from Gugulethu who were studying in Nyanga. We used to put a kerrim table under an electric light pole, and play until late in the evenings. What would happen was, if someone from Gugulethu walked in our direction, while we were playing or standing at a street corner, we would see the way they walked and their behavior. Normally, someone from another township would walk on the far side of the road. They normally looked worried, and we detected this by the way they looked at us as a group. They tended to be very friendly looking with a nervous look. Some times we would let them pass without any problems, or we would stop the person and asked for matches and a cigarette. I did not smoke, but I would ask this stuff so that I could give it to my smoking friends. If one did not have these things and even if they had them sometimes, we would ask many other questions such as where in Gugulethu did they come from and we might end up asking for money and beating the person. This created a lot of bitterness between these two townships. We were doing this because we heard from some of our friends from other locations who had been treated like this in Gugulethu. In Gugulethu, they were also doing this, because they heard that people from Gugulethu get treated this way in Nyanga.

I once went through the same experience in Gugulethu’s section 3A. I was sent with a friend of mine to Claremont by train by my cousin. We had to go to her father to request money for her, since she needed school clothes and books. She wrote everything in a letter and gave me money for a single trip, hoping I was going to get money to come back. We decided to use the train because we could go without paying and pay on the way back by bus and not train. When you do not pay in a train and the tickets collectors show up, what we always did was to hang outside the train while it was in motion. When they were gone, we went in again through the windows. Normally, other passengers did not report us; they knew it was one of the ways other people were traveling by train. In any case, it was a train belonging to the white Apartheid people.

We had to go through Gugulethu because that was where the station was available. There was no train station in Nyanga. While we were walking in the station’s direction through the NY 3A section of Gugulethu, we saw some guys standing next to a hedge fence. I remember very well, there were thirteen of them. We were walking on the pavement on the far side of the road, and they called us. I told my friend that we needed to run, either towards the station direction or back towards Nyanga. Since my friend was wearing very big shoes called Reaves, he could not run. I ran a little and saw that he was not, and I stopped and went back to him. These Gugulethu guys took us to where they were standing. They took his shoes, all the money we had, and they took the letter I had. They opened it and tried to read it, after that they destroyed it. We were pushed into the hedge, and the hedge sticks hurt us very badly. We tried to scream but we were strangled, and released later, after some claps and kicks. We never saw these guys before, and there was no reason for them to do this. But we understood that they did this because we were from Nyanga Township.

When we were just released, one lady saw us and called us to her home. She told us that these guys have been doing this for a long time to Nyanga people including old people who were coming or going to work. She said we should report them to police. She told us where the one who was the boss was staying.

We went to his home and we reported everything to a mother and father we found in the house. They told us that the boy was adopted in that house when he was young and they are tired of reports coming in on him. They asked us to leave, because they were worried that if he arrives while we were there, he might beat us up again. We went outside, and on the street there was a police van coming and it was patrolling on its own, not coming to us. We ran towards it and they saw us and stopped. We told them what happened and they took us back to that house.

When we