Molo! (Hello in Xhosa)



I first read about Khayelitsha during my research for volunteer opportunities outside of my day job. All I was coming up with were dead ends and would see things like “come volunteer with us and we’ll let you interact with children in the orphanage for seven days followed by an exclusive luxury safari and wine land tour!”…blah blah blah. First, I don’t want to pay $3,000. Second, we are in one of the most impoverished countries and I’m sure someone can use an extra volunteer in some capacity. Third, I did not want to partake in something that seemed like an organized human safari both invasive and humiliating to the people living there. Let’s just hope a portion of that money goes to support the orphanage, but I think that’s a little optimistic. I also tried local churches and contacting the local chapter of Habitat for Humanity, but no response.

Just as I was about to quit the online search, I came across an interesting article. It referred to a woman offering people to stay in her home, turned “B&B”, where she would speak to guests about her experience growing up in the township, living through Apartheid, provide insight into township culture and match guests with volunteer opportunities. Most of her guests are volunteers or journalists doing research. Her name is Thope Lekau, a registered community economic development worker, local NGO advocate, volunteer matchmaker and local legend. She and her daughter Mhpo, share one bedroom, while they host guests in the second.
Before I describe my experience, it’s important that you understand the significance of this township. Let’s be honest….I didn’t know much before being educated by the wise one herself.

Khayelitsha means “New Home” in Xhosa, the most common language spoken after English, Afrikaans (form of Dutch) and Zulu. This township sits just outside of Capetown and is the largest township in South Africa, even bigger than Soweto. The township population is reaching 2 million which is about 70% of the total population. Khayelitsha was created in 1985 during the apartheid era. At that time, Cape Town government began implementing segregated housing districts for Black Africans, coloreds, and whites and is still considered the most segregated city in South Africa. The term colored does not refer to Latino, it refers to lighter skin Black Africans of mixed decent with Dutch, Indian, Portuguese. Housing ranges from informal shacks made of sheet metal, wood, cardboard, tires and other unidentifiable objects to small permanent brick homes with water, sanitation and electricity supply. It is only after the shacks are given street numbers that the settlement is deemed legal and with a street number comes electricity, an outdoor water tap, and toilet. Right now, the brick housing backlog is estimated at 400,000. There are no street names. The area is divided into 26 districts that are simply numbered by letters (chaotic to say the least).

Ethic make up of the residents are 99% black African and less than 1% white, which are likely temporary NGO volunteer residents. Approximately 50-70% of its residents are unemployed.

As far as healthcare goes, there is only one emergency/trauma clinic in the entire township and several smaller clinics however these are often too far to reach and only provide minor treatment and testing for TB, HIV and STD. Regarding education, all children are granted primary education at village schools however secondary or university level education is far too expensive.

Everyone told me not to go to Khayelitsha alone…what are you thinking, it’s not safe! Well, after doing my own research and reading the articles about Thope’s house I had to check it out myself.

I was dropped off by the taxi around 5pm and was greeted by Mhpo with a huge hug. She walked me into her home and provided me with some tea and oat biscuits (aka cookies). There were three other girls staying that night, Silje, Hilda and Susana who were from Norway but studying and working in children’s orphanages in Cape Town.

Mhpo and Thope cooked us a delicious meal that night with grilled chicken, sweet potatoes and yucca, sautéed spinach and a vegetable curry with tomato, onion, garlic and peppers. Later that evening, Mhpo took us to a local Shabeen (aka bar). The bar was like most shacks, built out of wood and sheet metal with small stools and benches to sit on. It served homemade beer, wine, whiskey, wings and potato chips! These Shabeens were considered illegal until the end of Apartheid in 1994. Mhpo said that even folks that have left the townships come back to hangout at the shabeens just for the gritty, unpretentious, laid back vibe and to reconnect with friends and family. Although I didn’t join in on the drinking, beverages were being consumed at an impressive rate by the locals…reminded me of times at Brooklyn’s finest establishment, the Old Fashioned Pizza Parlour! Everyone was dancing. They played some funky local South African tribal music, some blues like Otis Redding and some American jazz classics by Ella and Louis Armstrong.

That night, we had to stay at one of Thope’s friends houses a block away since the extra room in her home was occupied. Unfortunately, the friend was working the graveyard shift and it was her son’s birthday that night. Needless to say, her two sons and daughter (in their late teens) broke into her liquor cabinet and got completely trashed. The daughter was hugging me non-stop…oh Nee-cole, you are beautiful American, I have been waiting for you for hours…oh Nee-cole, please celebrate with us, this drink for you…oh Nee-cole where have you been? Luckily, they were harmless (but hilarious), it was close to midnight, I was exhausted and I just crashed. I woke up in the morning to the daughter (probably still drunk) walking around my room in her bra and underwear looking for a towel. Unbelievable.

I headed back to Thope’s house around 8am the next morning. Thope was waiting for us. She is a dynamic, larger-than-life woman dressed in a traditional colorful African gown. She cooked a lovely breakfast including scrambled eggs, local sausage (tried it but not a fan), cereal and fruit.

Later that morning, I accompany Mhpo into town. We walk down the street greeting her neighbors. I can’t help feel a little out of place, but I don’t feel unsafe or uncomfortable at all. Although there is large resentment of the government and some of the wealthy Dutch South Africans whom have turned their back on townships, they welcome visitors. Their priority is for people to gain a perspective about local culture and spread the positive word so it reduces the fear/negative perceptions about life in townships.

The township is alive and busy – children are running up and down the streets playing soccer, girls braiding each other’s hair, women hanging fresh laundry, carrying babies on their backs and groceries on their head, children gathering water from the well and many people in route to church. Music blares from all over…some local South African, blues, jazz, gospel, house and hip hop.

We stop by a local barber to say hi to Mhpo’s friends. They asked me what I thought about their community and if I was afraid. I obviously responded that I was not afraid and that I felt very welcomed. They told me that they hoped more people would visit the township and understand that it is not a place to be feared. They kept hugging me and saying “please tell your people not to be afraid, we are all people of God”. They also wanted to cut my hair, ha! I will never forget that moment.

While we were there, we heard children laughing from a distance. We turned and saw a teenage boy walking down the middle of the street stark naked with nothing on but an unzipped hooded shirt. Mhpo believed that he was mentally ill and she said there are many people with mental illnesses living in the township that go untreated because there is no access to proper care.

We then proceeded to walk to the local Baptist church, which was about an hour away. Church service was two hours! The service was filled with vibrant singing and clapping. I have no idea where all their energy comes from. Every time I thought I couldn’t sing one more song, or clap one more time, or stand for any longer…I thought if the four year old standing next to me and his eighty year old great grandmother next to him could do it then so could I. We sang traditional Xhosa songs, Christian songs and gospel. The pastor was full of even more energy. He started the service by welcoming me…apparently I stood out. He asked where I was from and why I was there. After he embarrassed me...I mean introduced me…about twenty people got out of their seats and hugged me. Then someone came up to me and gave me their bible to use during service. Another moment of awe. It was very interesting to hear about their message and interpretation of the bible. We read a chapter that had to do with greed and choosing the right path. The pastor’s message to the people was “do not let the devil make promises of prosperity through your account, you will only sell your soul and put your family in danger”…and kept saying “account is bad….cash is good” over and over again. I think what he was trying to get at is that decisions we make today have a long term affect in the future, and don’t let instant gratification get the best of you. I guess there has been increasing corruption in the townships where people enter into these “agreements” to take food/supplies/furniture for future payment (not credit cards, but a vow to owe) without having the ability to pay back the cash then face consequences even if agreements were not legally binding. The service did follow a similar format as the ones in the states…singing, prayer, sermon, offering, announcements and more singing albeit much more vocal and animated and much less formal.

After church, we walked around town a bit and went back to Mhpo’s home. We exchanged contact information and she wrote down music recommendations. I also gave her about 30 pens, some with the Pfizer logo, some with cartoon pictures that she plans to give to the local elementary school which happened to be closed given I was there on a Sunday. We had a late lunch/early dinner, then I headed back home.

After my two day visit, I’ve realized that there is little to fear about Khayelitsha. In spite of poor living conditions, it is a place of strength, community and faith & I hope to return again!

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