Amagwinya and vada, champions of the working class
2020 marks the 160th year since the first Indian indentured workers were shipped to colonial Natal. This series seeks to explore the many untold, unheralded stories of indentured ancestry that speak to our collective consciousness and the necessity of bet
THERE is very little that can compare to a freshly fried amagwinya (vetkoek).
Its crispy exterior with its pillow-soft centre, served with chakalaka or a variety of fillings, is a staple of many of working-class South Africans.
The origins of this uniquely South African street food point to a hybridisation formed by a combination of cultures, one of which includes our Tamil indentured heritage, seen in the form of a goolgoola, a small drop doughnut deep-fried in hot oil.
Like the amagwinya’s other distant Indian snack cousin, the crispy vada, with its perfect cacophony of dhall, chillies, dhania (coriander) and onions, it’s a delight for the taste buds in cold winter months.
For the masses of working-class citizens with shallow pockets, these humble foods provide daily sustenance in financially difficult times.
For the thousands of women serving up these tasty treats in cardboard-enclosed street kitchens, this informal employment sees to the needs of many families.
Beyond providing for their daily bread, many children of these women would boldly attest to how this livelihood richly contributed towards them obtaining their matric certificates, diplomas and university degrees.
For several months now, we have related unheralded histories of the working class in colonial Natal.
For this article, we narrow its focus to paying tribute to the street vendors who work below the radar and who rarely find their contribution to the economy being lauded.
For the purpose of this article, we narrow our focus in looking back at our colonial history of indenture and how the livelihood of informal trading has evolved.
The paucity of research on the role of women from colonial-era indenture and beyond requires further study.
While the sterling work of
Dr Betty Govinden, Professor Kalpana Hiralal, the late Professor Fatima Meer and Professor Jo Beall must be applauded, more must be done in acknowledging the role of women in the building of our economy.
In her much-referenced research
of
Beall
writes:
“During the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, Indian women were at the bottom of the class-race-gender hierarchy in colonial Natal. As workers they were ultra-exploitable, being used for the most arduous and least-skilled tasks in a forced labour system, as Indians they were regarded as unwelcome additions to the already complex social make-up of the colony.”
During the first phase of indentured immigration to South Africa, 6 448 Indians were brought into the colony with 4 116 men, 1 463 women and 869 children. From the outset, women were seen as “dead stock” and were grudgingly brought to the colony by planters who were solely interested in using foreign labour to maximise profit margins. Over time, many planters saw the value of women in the plantations by using them to do menial tasks like weeding, fertilising and planting sugar cane. In the latter years of indenture and well into the 20th century, women were seen as a more stable and reliable workforce.
In addition to being horribly exploited by the system of indenture through the colonial system, many Indian women faced the double threat of abuse in their “home” environments. In the early years of indenture the disproportionate ratio of men to women meant that one woman would be used by as many as three to four men to tend to domestic chores in their plantation huts. These domesticated tasks were often done in exchange for food rations or better accommodation.
By the beginning of the 20th century, indentured Indians slowly started leaving the plantations for industrial work in the borough of Durban. Employment opportunities for women were limited to a few occupations. Most women turned to working as domestic servants, dhobis (washer women for laundry services), petty hawking, selling vegetables, baskets or food items. As the number of ex-indentured Indian men working in the city increased, more women took to food hawking to add income to their households.
The majority of women of indentured ancestry from 1860 to 1960 led subservient lifestyles with limited opportunities beyond the kitchen. It was only by the 1960s that Indian women were able to be employed in the formal working sector. By the 1960s, the number of Indian women working in factories, especially in the garment industry, grew dramatically. While in 1951 only 1 518 Indian women were employed in industry, by 1970 this grew to 13 530.
A constant and steady source of revenue for most women of indentured ancestry has always been found in petty food vending. Even today, Indian snacks likes samoosas,
1860 Heritage Centre murukku and vada continue to provide income to a growing number of households. For many of these women, the costs to start up these informal trading spots are minimal.
A gas stove and simple cardboard to give a measure of protection from the elements are enough to ensure a steady flow of customers from their makeshift kitchens. For those making vada, the use of dhall as its main ingredient has added significance, given that it was a staple food ration for indentured labourers during the history of indenture in all the colonies of Great Britain.
For many African women, informal food trading has been the only source of income for generations of families. In Durban, Warwick Junction is home to the city’s major transport hub as well as its greatest concentration of informal traders. Approximately 8 000 traders sustain their livelihoods in the nine markets of Warwick Junction and on the streets which link them, by providing for the more than 460 000 people who commute through this area every day.
Food is one of the most commonly traded goods in many CBDs across South Africa with amagwinya/vetkoek a firm favourite for the young and the old, the working and the unemployed.
All that is needed to trade is a paraffin stove, one bowl and a pot to deep-fry the dough. Many of these women wake up very early to catch a bus into the city centre to start trading by as early as 5am. By 9am, most women are normally done with the business of the day and start packing to make their way back home, to start with the dough mixture for the next day.
From generation to generation, there is enough evidence to validate that this informal trading is a significant component of the economy that provides employment, livelihoods and income for millions of workers and their families.
The trading potential of this sector in poverty reduction and stimulating our economy must never be underestimated. Given the trail of economic destruction during and post the Covid-19 pandemic, we must remain even more supportive of the local economy to ensure that informal traders hold on to their livelihood.
Our continued support for these hard-working ladies would go a long way in supporting many families as well as keeping us content when we tuck into our favourite street foods.
The authors, Selvan Naidoo and Kiru Naidoo, have a keen interest in documenting indenture and worker history in South Africa.