David walked me around Soweto on an extremely hot sunny Sunday in February 2019.
A crowd: We saw two gatherings on the day. The first, David told me, was a meeting to make decisions about the neighbourhood that affects residents. Sometimes, disputes are settled here. People of all ages and genders assembled in the shade of a large tree. Those who sat outside the shade had umbrellas opened to protect them from the scorching sun. Children ran about, playing, while the parents attended to business.
Another crowd gathered near the train station. Unemployment is a serious concern in South Africa, and men can be seen idling time on the streets. In this case, David tells me they're waiting to be employed. Reminded me of these parts of Mumbai and Hyderabad that I've seen, where men gather at the early hours each day, waiting for anyone who comes to them with a source of daily-wage.
Soweto was established as a "black township" in the early 20th century when freshly discovered large gold reserves brought people from across the country to look for employment. A century later, it continues to remain a vibrant, albeit poverty-stricken neighbourhood. Many shanties had numbers scribbled on them, and David says many of these were families that were promised a proper house; some even 30 years ago. Only some parts of Soweto have any plumbing or running water facilities.
Tap Water: Most tap water is shared, and most electricity is illegal. Parts of Soweto are so neglected, I am told, that there might be one tap water shared by hundreds of families. Women and children must queue up to collect what they can when the taps run. Electricity is sparse too because governments time and again have made promises they haven't kept.
Gestures: Everywhere in South Africa, shared private vans operate as taxis. On working days, they bring people from suburbs like Soweto to the heart of Jo'burg where everyone works. A fascinating part of the world of taxi-commute here are the hand-gestures. Anyone waiting along the road communicates with the drivers with specific gestures to indicate where/how far they need to be dropped off. In Soweto, we came across this installation with some of the common gestures. David pointed out to me what some of them were: "This gesture means I want to be dropped off at the next intersection; this means I'm going all the way to Jozi city centre", and so on. Amidst what seems like a chaotic system, this well-oiled language of gestures is a pleasure to watch.
An Uprising: A cold winter morning in June 1976, something unusual was brewing in the schools of Soweto. Instead of the usual Lord's prayer, the students started to sing the banned liberation song, "Nkosi Sikelel' iAfrika". Thus started the Soweto Uprising against the Apartheid state's forced imposition of Afrikaans as the medium of instruction in schools. Students marched through the streets carrying banners that they had hidden rolled up in their blazers, with slogans like "To Hell With Afrikaans" and "This is Our Day". They blocked off Vilakazi Street, marched towards Orlando Stadium, and sang songs of resistance. When the police arrived, violence was unleashed on the peaceful protesters.
The Shooting of Hector Pieterson: 12-year-old Hector and his sister Antoinette were among the students who were on the streets when the police arrived on a winter morning in 1976. Antoinette and Hector were separated when the police began firing teargas to disperse the crowds. When gunshots were heard, Antoinette decided to find her brother and head home. As she walked towards the crowd, she saw a boy carrying Hector in his arms. "He's dead", Antoinette recollects the boy telling her in Zulu. Words that have never left her mind. . Meanwhile, Sam Nzima's photograph for The Globe, of a badly wounded Hector being carried away as Antoinette runs beside them remains one of the most haunting images of the apartheid, and was published across newspapers in the West. He never photographed again, and 'The Globe' was forced shut soon after, for publishing the photograph. . Next to Hector's memorial, some men sit, playing chess. Planning the next move.
Streets: The temporary appropriation of the streets as a site of protest had consequences. It was a challenge to authority. In its face. On the streets. Tangible. Today, the same streets are vibrant with activity. Many were idling, but others were going about their daily jobs.
Tailors, barbers, vendors, guards, locals, tourists. Vilakazi Street in New Orlando is Soweto's most popular (and touristy) street. Mandela and Tutu, the two beacons of peace in modern South Africa, both lived here.