A manifesto for change

The image above is of a cow and her calf lying close for warmth on a cold June morning in a vacant lot behind the City Hall on Knight Street.

I had walked from African Street past Oatlands Prep, through the dip at Stanton Field to the bottom of the steep incline of Carlisle Street; a pall of smoke rising from a small, now dying fire in the ‘driffie’ hung in the air. The plots either side of the road contained piles of rubbish and detritus.

Empty. Overgrown. To my left, just past the damaged public toilets and below the fire station was a larger fire; two shadowed figures keeping warm underneath the eaves of a derelict structure. I walked up the hill.

At the intersection of the alleyway and Knight Street, across from the traffic office, I saw the mother and calf lying still in the cold, early light. The walls are crumbling, the sidewalks are uneven and potholed, the space is empty and unkempt while the towers of the cathedral and city hall peer over the surrounding buildings.

An old scraggly tree offers scant and foreboding cover.

The gritty scene, however nostalgic for the voyeur, speaks to the grimness of the current plight of our city; neglect, corruption, dodgy tenders, potholes, ghost employees, nepotism, factionalism, failing infrastructure, load-shedding, and indifference towards the citizens. Keep them hopeless, unhealthy, and silent. That’s all that counts now.

The roads, water, and electricity are failing but still, the Makana Municipality believes that Makhanda is “a great place to be.” It is not. They simply do not care. Sloganeering and paltry gestures are easier.

But we care. We have no choice. We have to keep fighting them in the shadows, on the stage, from the artist’s canvas, and in the streets dancing. Streets that belong to the people that live on them. We all live here. We will not be removed. We will thrive again.