BUSHVELD: ZEERUST
Most people stop in Zeerust to fill their tank and buy a coffee at the Wimpy before they continue along the N4 to Botswana. But what is life like for the people who live in this part of the Marico Bushveld?
“There’s a difference between local and farmfed chicken. The chicken feet from the city are better – they have more meat. You can’t eat these local ones,” he says, pointing to a chicken in the yard. “These local ones are Hardbodies!”
You travel past farms with names like Valkevallei and Knoffelfontein; past slate quarries, game farms, cattle farms; all along the course of the Klein-Marico River. There’s a depression in the landscape and in it you find Zeerust. That’s if you approach from the south, as I did in May this year.
The name is a contraction of the original farm name Coetzee-Rust: first owned by a certain Casper Coetzee in 1858, and later by Diederik Coetzee, whose idea it was to establish a town. The farm was divided into erven in 1867 and by 1880 it was officially a town.
And now? Now I’m here.
A naartjie from Mangope’s orchard
I always promise Vermaak Senosi that if I ever pass through Zeerust and I have more than half an hour to spare, I will visit him. Vermaak works as a bush chef for our tour partner Bhejane 4x4 Adventures, and he’s more than a magician in the kitchen. He’s always full of stories and he always welcomes you to the campfire with a big smile.
I drive out of town in the direction of the Skilpadshek border post to Botswana. After a while, I turn right at Lehurutshe. During apartheid, this area was part of the Bophuthatswana homeland. You’ll see almost no settlements indicated on your map, but that’s far from the truth: I drive through sprawling village after sprawling village. The houses have spacious yards and bushveld trees provide shade at crossroads. Cattle roam freely as kids walk to school.
I meet Vermaak at the police station in the village of Motswedi and we drive to his house for tea and rusks. Later, he asks if I want to meet one of the daughters of Lucas Mangope, the controversial former leader of Bophuthatswana. Apparently the Mangopes are Vermaak’s neighbours and he was good friends with one of the Mangope sons as a young man. Over the course of the next hour or two, I meet Keabaitse Mangope, I’m shown the chair on which her father liked to sit, I eat a naartjie from the Mangope orchard, I visit a crumbling airstrip used during apartheid, and I see the statue of Lucas Mangope near the kgotla in Motswedi, erected after he passed away in 2018.
A chicken from Pretoria
I say goodbye to Vermaak and return to Zeerust. The landscape is pretty, so I take it slow. I pull over to take a photo in the village of Borakalalo and meet Alpheus Kagiso Mongae, who shows me a hand plough once used by his grandfather, now rusting under a tree. Alpheus remembers how he and his sister Kelebogile helped to plant mielies on his grandfather’s farm when they were children.
I also learn more about chicken feet. Virginia Magakgala is cooking in front of the Moote family house while brother and sister Kaizer and Cynthia Tshidi Moote sit in the shade with their mother Josephine Kedibone Moote. I buy a chicken sosatie (R7) and a small bag of peanuts (R5) to nibble on, while Kaizer tells me more about the chicken feet. (No, I wasn’t going to try one.) “I bought these feet in Pretoria,” he says. He works at Standard Bank in Johannesburg and is currently on leave. “There’s a difference between local and farm-fed chicken. The chicken feet from the city are better – they have more meat. You can’t eat these local ones,” he says, pointing to a chicken in the yard. “These local ones are Hardbodies!”
Later, in Zeerust, I meet Bertha Lewis. She’s the only contact I have in town. Bertha used to run her own regional newspaper but now works as an audiologist. Her husband Riaan owns the Toyota dealership in town.
I meet them both at the local Wimpy – apparently the best coffee shop in town. (I later track down a better cup of coffee at Kareespruit Guesthouse.)
“I moved to Zeerust in 2003, but my mother was born here,” Riaan says. “Everyone feels like family. If you go away, you miss home within two days.”
“Unlike in the city, you’re close to everyone’s joys and sorrows,” Bertha adds. “People greet you at the stop street, or someone will ask you why your bakkie is parked at the co-op. You’re noticed in Zeerust. In the Pick n Pay once, I realised I’d forgotten my purse at home and they let me go without paying. I went back to settle the next day.”
Tonight, I’m staying to the north of town. The R49 tar road climbs over Scheftonsnek and descends again. I turn right onto a dirt road and a few farm gates later, I arrive at Doornrivier 4x4 guest farm.
I pass rows of chicken coops (there are lots of chicken farmers in the area) on my way to the farmstead. Owner André van der Merwe comes to greet me and invites me on a drive around the farm. I get into his Amarok and his dogs Seun and Brakenjan trot alongside as we drive. “We farm chickens and also Brahman and Bonsmara cattle,” André says. He was born in Zeerust, one of a pair of twins, and has lived on the farm for 30 years.
“My dad drove the school bus and made furniture from tamboti trees on the farm Leeufontein, where we grew up.”
We reach the top of a steep mountain road – the dogs are panting from exertion – and André parks at a viewpoint overlooking his farm and the valley that runs from east to west. Zeerust is out of sight, behind the mountain to the south. In the distance I can see trucks on the N4. “Everything to the north of the N4 is the Bushveld,” André says. “To the south is what we call the Klipveld, where there are no crop farms. And then, further south, where you find crop farms again, that’s where the Highveld starts.”
Casks and klip dagga
Andrew and Christine L’Estrange live on a small farm next to the Koedoesfontein Road between Zeerust and Groot-Marico. It’s just south of the N4, in what André calls the Klipveld.
The L’Estranges have called this place home for 14 years. Before that, they lived in Skeerpoort near Hartbeespoort Dam. Andrew is a potter and is currently making big casks for winemakers who want to use ancient methods to produce wine.
“Yesterday we went on a mission to Viljoenskroon to fetch Haaskraal clay,” Christine says. “It’s some of the best terra cotta clay in the country.”
“I’m going to try to mix Haaskraal with Grahamstown kaolin,” Andrew says. His passion shines through when he talks about his pots. “The whole process is like alchemy. Ninety percent of a potter’s time is spent on preparation – grinding and mixing the clay. It’s only once your pot has been fired that you know whether you’ve been successful or not.
“I’m self-taught – there’s something so human about the process. My main interest is in the lost art of pottery, and its usefulness. It shouldn’t just be decoration. That’s why I like the idea of making wine casks. I like pots to be beautiful, but also to have a purpose and be authentic.”
I walk with Andrew to where he grinds the clay. It looks like hard work – a scene from the
Middle Ages. He literally puts his shoulder to the wheel.
“If I can’t do it, then it’s not done. I grind the clay, sieve it, mix it – sometimes in the most primitive way. These days, in the world we live in, we’re often removed from the process. For example, we can’t fix our own cars any more. In the old days, people knew things.
Like a blacksmith – he knew and understood everything about steel.”
When we return to the house to have coffee with Christine, she tells me about their reclusive lifestyle. “In the beginning we’d go to Joburg three or four times a year. Now we haven’t been in two years – we even think twice about going into Zeerust.”
“We have peace,” Andrew adds. “We watch kudu drink from the water bowl and monkeys picking oranges.”
A little further along the Koedoesfontein Road, I find Kathy and Zak Herbst. They moved here more recently, from Gauteng. Their farmstead at the end of a narrow, sandy track feels like a refuge: The house is sheltered by big jacaranda trees and the garden by rocky ridges. There’s even an orchard full of avocado trees. In the five years they’ve lived here, they’ve established a business called Herbs Infusion. “It used to just be a hobby, but now it’s a source of income,” Kathy says in her herb garden where she grows rosemary, oregano, thyme, comfrey, basil and klip dagga. She makes herbal salts and ointments, to help soothe sunburn for example. “We do everything organically,” she says. “And we do everything ourselves – growing the herbs, cutting them, drying… It’s a passion, a labour of love.”
When they moved here, they were drawn by more than just the natural spring water that would irrigate their herb garden and avocado orchard. They were also looking for a place where they could experience something spiritual.
“When we first drove out here to look at the property, I got up on the koppie and felt the breeze,” Zak says. “I immediately realised that this was a place where I could experience my Creator.”
Bigger than Cape Town
Now it’s time to explore the Enzelsberg. This mountain to the north-east of Zeerust is known for its trees, narrow kloofs and rock formations similar to the Cederberg. Tonight, I’ll stay at Diep ini Bos, owned by Jan and Tersia Roos, on the northern side of the mountain.
Now it’s time to explore the Enzelsberg. This mountain to the north-east of Zeerust is known for its trees, narrow kloofs and rock formations similar to the Cederberg.
The Rooses farm with many things, including game and chickens, but when I get in Jan’s bakkie to drive up the mountain, he also points out a field of protea bushes. We crawl up a steep track to the plateau, where boulders and rock slabs are eroded in a way that suggests lots of water flowed here many years ago. We get out at one of the slabs. Jan brushes loose soil from depressions in the rock – these weren’t formed naturally but were made by people who lived here centuries ago. Herbs and seeds were ground using rocks, until the stone below wore away. I also notice some low stone walls in the grass. Ancient City is a few farms to the west. There, you can see the ruins of a “city” known as Kaditshwene. In 1820, when missionary John Campbell visited, the settlement was home to an estimated 20 000 people. Some experts say there were more people living there than in Cape Town at the time!
The city was built by the Bahurutshe, a Tswana group, and it was inhabited for an estimated 400 years. They mined iron and melted it to make spears and other implements. The stone walls on Jan’s farm were part of a satellite settlement of Kaditshwene.
Jan tells me about the different kloofs around the mountain: Houtboskloof, Tierboskloof, Watervalkloof, Ferreiraskloof and Spaanserietkloof. We reach a viewpoint where the landscape falls away and the Bushveld stretches out to the hazy horizon. With a view like this, it’s easy to imagine a time on earth before bakkies, chicken coops and mine shafts. According to Jan, you can see very far on a clear day – you can see landmarks like Silkaatskop, Abjaterkop and Dwarsberg to the north, in a region called the Agter-Bosveld; even the cement factory at Dwaalboom, about 80 km away.
Later, I have dinner with the Roos family and their two parakeets, Bibbers and Dakfan, which roam around the house as they please. The Rooses are animal lovers: In recent years, they’ve raised many abandoned or orphaned animals including numerous dogs, Willem the grey go-away-bird, a boer goat, a civet and even an eland that they later traded for a pool table.
The next morning, Jan accompanies me on a hike into Watervalkloof – to a thin, high waterfall that tumbles down into a pool the size of a fishpond. Coins glint in the shallow water and melted candles can be seen under a rock overhang. For the Tswana people, Enzelsberg is a sacred space and pilgrims often visit sites like this one.
Nearby Spaanserietkloof is very narrow – only 2 m wide in places. When you look up, the opening between the cliffs looks like the slot of a post box. Tree roots reach up like a rock climber’s fingers, trying to find purchase. Jan says there are still leopards in the area…
He has to get back to work and I take my time packing up in the cottage. Back on the dirt road, next to Jan’s farm, a general dealer catches my eye. The faded sign reads: “H Tajbhai & Sons”. The shop is closed, but there’s a bell. I ring it, hear a voice inside, and the door opens…
Stories drawn from silence
This is how I meet the Hayat family. The “H” on the sign stands for “Hayat”, says Khalil Hayat. “Tajbhai is there because my grandfather travelled from India with that family.”
This was in the 1920s. In 1936, Khalil’s grandfather bought a 40-hectare farm in the Enzelsberg for 400 pounds. The house on the property dates from 1906 – the Hayats have turned one half into a shop and they live in the other half. “Even some of the corrugated iron sheets are still original,” says Khalil.
After some time in Dublin and London, Khalil worked in Durban and Johannesburg. In 1981, he returned to the farm to help his parents. “I felt in my heart that I had to return to spend some time them,” he says. “They were my parents, but I didn’t really know them. Now, looking back, I feel that God gave me the idea to return. I’m glad it has worked out like this.” In time, Khalil married. His wife Khadija, originally from Cape Town, was also happy to move to the farm. “I have a wonderful wife and we’re thankful because we have three children and now two grandchildren,” he says. A customer rings the bell and Khalil opens the door. “These days, people only buy airtime and cooldrink,” he says. Indeed, the golden era of the rural general dealer is over.
“Even back then, we didn’t have a lot of money, but we had a good life,” he says.
They worked hard – and smart. On the last Friday of every month, Khalil would visit the chrome mine at Nietverdiend with his small truck. He would drive the mine workers back to his store so they could buy what they needed. Early on the Saturday morning he’d do the drive again, this time to pick up the women to do their shopping.
Tersia Roos, Jan’s wife, pulls up outside and we walk to the door to greet her. Jan
also joins us after a while.
“God is my main protector and I have good neighbours, too,” says Khalil when Jan and Tersia leave. He tells me how Gerrie Roos (a relation of Jan’s who has since passed away) offered his shed as a wedding venue when Khalil’s daughter got married.
He invites me into his home, which has a very different atmosphere to the shop. Everything is ornate, from the framed portraits to the antique furniture. It’s cool, with high ceilings. Something in the kitchen smells delicious.
Khalil’s mother Rabia (91) appears from a dark room. “Yes, it’s a very old house,” she says. “It wasn’t even built with cement; the bricklayers used mud.”
Khalil returns from the kitchen with his grandchild Asma. Great-grandmother Rabia’s face lights up. “Such a small little thing brings so much joy,” she says. “The house can be very quiet, but with Asma here you talk all day, finding out if she’s hungry or where she wants to go.”
“Are you a farm baby?” Khalil asks Asma and smiles like only a proud grandfather can.
Outside, the sun is shining. Somewhere, a bakkie kicks up dust. In the main road of Zeerust, trucks and buses trundle past in double-lane roads in front of takeaway restaurants and filling stations. There are queues at ATMs and frustrations in the newspapers. The world is still turning, and people are rushing to who-knows-where. But here on the Enzelsberg, a hornbill flies from one tree to the next. A grey go-awaybird calls. A stone ruin rests in silence. In Spaanserietkloof, there’s a blink of a leopard eye. And behind the closed door of H Tajbhai & Sons, rural farm life carries on.
STAY HERE
Doornrivier 4x4 has several 4x4 trails (mountains, rocks, sand, mud, a donga). Accommodation options include a farmhouse with four rooms – perfect for a big group travelling together.
Rates: Camping R100 per person. Rooms from R500 per night for three people. Units from R300 per night for two people.
083 276 5081 (Mariesa; send a WhatsApp); andrev@gds.co.za
Diep ini Bos has a well-maintained campsite and two self-catering chalets that sleep six people each. It’s set against the Enzelsberg – you can walk to Watervalkloof. Small dogs are welcome, but please make arrangements beforehand.
Rates: Camping R300 per night for two people. Chalets R2 400 per night.
083 555 6953 ( Tersia; send a WhatsApp)
Ancient City is on the same farm as the Kaditshwene ruins. Antelope graze on the lawn at night and there’s a lapa where you can braai and hang out.
Rates: Self-catering units R150 per person per night. Guided tour to the ruins R50 per person. jenny@kaditshwene.com