LAST Friday, June 20, this newspaper — along with others in Durban — was invited to take part in a tour of the city’s black townships, sponsored by the state-appointed Bureau For Information. One newspaper, The Natal Mercury, turned down the invitation for reasons they have stated publicly. Kanthan Pillay along with photographer Puri Devjee represented this newspaper:
THE first stop on the Bureau’s itinerary seemed a bit odd.
On a roadside on the way to Inanda, several people had set up shacks which played a vital role selling goods which were not otherwise available in the area.
One such shack belonged to a traditional medic — a muti man or witchdoctor if you prefer — and this was our first port of call.
It was quite obvious that our guides — Police PRO Captain Winston Heunis and a uniformed sergent — were familiar with the place.
The person they had come to see, the witchdoctor, was not home. A buxom woman with a baby strapped to her back told us very politely that he would be in the following day.
Inside the shack, a domestic hen and several chicks chattered endlessly amidst several strange-looking herbs and liquids and a large shock of horses hair.
We left, setting off in the direction of Inanda.
That visit to the witchdoctor’s shack proved to be — for me at any rate — the highlight of the tour.
As we approached the entrance to Inanda, our driver made a u-turn in front of the police station — and we set off back in the direction from which we had just come.
Weren’t we going into Inanda?
No, we were told. KwaMashu would be our next stop.
We drove through a back entrance into KwaMashu. Along the way, two soldiers were dispensing fresh water to a queue of people from a tanker.
Could we stop here, a reporter asked.
Yes, replied Heunis, but no photographs of the army vehicle were to be taken.
“We’ll get the picture cleared by Pretoria,” the reporter said.
Heunis accepted. “Make sure you get the picture cleared first,” he said.
He repeated what had been said earlier on in the journey: No pictures were to be taken without his permission.
We went on.
At the centre of KwaMashu, a large wall stood plastered with slogans supporting anti-government organisations. “Can we stop here?” the reporter asked.
No.
From KwaMashu, we left via Newlands East and up along the outer ring road into the Western Freeway going towards Pinetown.
We stopped at the Pinetown Police Station. The SABC reporter with us had to pick up his cameraman who was waiting at the police station. The SABC team, camera and all, got into their own minibus, and followed us for the rest of the tour, unsupervised.
We drove through KwaNdabeka and Clermont, our driver keeping to the main roads at all times.
Our requests to be taken down through the side-alleys and back streets were turned down. “Most of these roads are dead-ends and the bus cannot be turned at the end,” our guides said.
In Clermont, more graffiti supporting organisations ranging from the ANC to the UDF were on the walls. Sorry, no pictures.
We moved on to Chesterville — home of the A-team and the Comrades. We were taken through the townships to where about a dozen people were hacking away at the grass overgrowth on theroads with bush knives, spades, and machettes.
These were the Department of Manpower’s R4-a-day workers, our driver said. Yes, said Heunis, we could take pictures.
What about the gutted shell of a house we passed on the way?
No, no pictures.
We moved on towards the township’s recreational centre — the soccer field and swimming pool. The swimming pool was only half-full and encrusted with green algae. Workers were busy paving the surrounds.
Would we like pictures, Heunis wanted to know.
Of what, the empty swimming pool? We declined.
Outside the pool area, in the soccer field, some children played. Heunis went up to them, asked them to kick around their ball so that we could take pictures.
They responded enthusiastically. I asked photographer Puri Devjee to move in and take pictures.
“No, not from that side,” Heunis said.
But, the photographers said, if we shoot from that direction, our cameras will point to the sun.
Heunis was adamant. Then I saw why: graffiti on the concrete fence.
We called a halt to the tour thereafter. There was no point in proceeding to Umlazi, we agreed. We had seen enough. We returned to CR Swart Square.
At the start of the tour, at the same police station, Port Natal CID chief Brigadier John van der Westhuizen had asked Heunis in Afrikaans, “Why are you going to KwaMashu? There’s nothing happening there.”
“Well, that’s what we’re going to show them,” Heunis had replied.
He was wrong. There was something happening in the townships.
The writing was on the wall.
