Waiting for Mr Wright. Chapter 7: Transport has gone Tits Up

Tranported to Gugs – Hitch-Hiking to an Activists Memorial Service in Guguletu – White Privilege

Yup! In the land of my birth the Transport gone Tits Up!

Today I need transport to Guguletu * to attend a Memorial Service. “Gugs” is a black township on the outskirts of Cape Town, alias “The Mother City.” Direct transport? Nearly impossible. Not possible without time and cash. So I will have to hitch-hike!

Why hitch-hike ?

Partly the practicality of myself having zero transport. Personally I do not have a drivers licence. A private taxi or Uber costs R280 to get there… From home to the city direct public transport no longer exists. Cheap transport was previously available by road and by rail. The bus system has since been sabotaged by The CODETA Taxi Association. These Taxi’s have been associated with a low cost means to get to work. This means delivering workers from black areas close-ish to work in white areas. This is because the transport routes are limited to central congested areas only. The planned Integrated Transport System has been derailed by “persons of no particular origin”. ** The train rails have been stolen for scrap metal by thieves. The train service has been privatised to Metrorail, on contract the company PRASA, who are squandering millions but not providing the service of transport…

Trains for transport? Reduced schedules. Only one train per HOUR! Trains are always late. Staff can not tell you the arrival time of the next train. Don’t bother making appointments… you will be late.
PHOTOGRAPHY © Geoffrey Wright, Cape Town

Cape Town Station. Smashed windows. Broken doors. Trains used to be public a civic service to get you to work on time. Graffiti hides the pain but shows the distain.
PHOTOGRAPHY © Geoffrey Wright, Cape Town

Even the stickers of protest are ripped and torn. “An Int…(egrated) Affordable, Reliable, Safe, Public Transport System.”
PHOTOGRAPHY © Geoffrey Wright, Cape Town

Slashed schedules. Slashed seats. The erect penis. The ultimate “up yours”.
PHOTOGRAPHY © Geoffrey Wright, Cape Town

Muizenberg Train Station
PHOTOGRAPHY © Geoffrey Wright, Cape Town

So from Muizenberg to Manenberg to Mitchells Plain there is no transport…?

Surely transport can connect areas to areas and people can connect with people?

So from the white crested waves of Muizenberg, to the student alternative of Mowbay, to the jazzy colourful people of Manenberg, to the gangster rap of Mitchells Plain, to the beat of the burgeoning black township of Mandela Park there is no direct transport… and no real connection?

The white crested waves of Muizenberg
PHOTOGRAPHY © Geoffrey Wright, Cape Town

Kite Surfers harnessing the wind, Muizenberg
PHOTOGRAPHY © Geoffrey Wright, Cape Town

Muizenberg

Written by Tony Cox

Performed by Tony Cox and Cool Friction

Mowbray Kaap

Sung in both Xhosa and English language, with one word in Afrikaans

Performed by Freshlyground

Written by Aron Turest-Swartz, Julio Sigauque, Kyla-Rose Smith, Peter Cohen, Simon Attwell, Zolani Mahola

https://open.spotify.com/track/7HxypuccHhHoc3VaWXQtz1?si=056978111a0b457e

Geoffrey Wright and Zolani Mahola, lead singer of Freshlyground, on video shoot for their hit single.
I showed Zolani a photo of my daughter, India Keaton Babb, aged 7 at the time, and her favourite song was “Doo-Bee-Doo.” With oohs and aahs from Zolani, she took my phone and she sang the song to my daughter! PHOTOGRAPHY © Janine Hayward, Cape Town

Aron Turest-Swartz and Zolani Mahola of Freshlyground… and Mika!
They performed a charity educational day for children. My youngest son Mika Keaton Treisman only two years old is already a fan! PHOTOGRAPHY © Geoffrey Wright, Cape Town

**Madosini performs with an Afrikaans rock band, in a club called Ruby in The Dust, Lower Main Road, Observatory**
PHOTOGRAPHY © Geoffrey Wright, Cape Town

Wenu Se Goli

Written & Performed by Madosini

Jazz. Yet another genre of music colonised by “us whiteys”. Given a Cape Flats flavour by the jazzy colourful people of Mannenberg
PHOTOGRAPHY © Geoffrey Wright, Cape Town

Jazz given a European eloquence at The Crypt, a jazz club beneath the St George’s Cathedral, at the end of Adderley Street and the beginning of The Company Gardens, in Cape Town PHOTOGRAPHY © Geoffrey Wright, Cape Town

Mannenberg

Written & Performed by Abdullah Ibrahim / Dollar Brand

It’s a sign. Macassar. Mitchells Plain.
PHOTOGRAPHY © Geoffrey Wright, Cape Town

The gangster rap of Mitchells Plain.
PHOTOGRAPHY © Geoffrey Wright, Cape Town

Township Jive

Written by Hugh Masekela, Joseph Shabalala, Paul Simon, Raymond Chikapa Phiri

Performed by Stimela

Mandela Park. The burgeoning black township like so many other squatter towns and informal settlements, eventually given basic services like water and electricity.
PHOTOGRAPHY © Geoffrey Wright, Cape Town

ela (Bring Him Back Home!)

Performed by Hugh Masekela

Nelson Mandela

Written & Performed by Sipho ‘Hotstix’ Mabuse

Yes, this is Cape Town. Tourist Town. Kaap Stad. Slaap Stad. The Cape of Storms. The first white settlement… and the last white outpost…! The Western Province. The best run Province with the least government corruption in South Africa. Apparently.

Cape Town… on the slopes and in the shadows of Table Mountain… Hoerikwiggo…

People come here. For uncountable millennia. Hunters. Gatherers. Fisher Folk. For Centuries. Traders of Spice. Conquestadors. Colonisers. For issues of Colour. Conservatives and “Kaffir-boeties”. Inequality and Independence. Intimidation and Incarceration. Convicts and Conquerors. To write the new Constitution of this Country. For issues of Culture. Making movies and music. For Capital gains tax. Capitalists. Criminals and Collaborators. Tourists. Immigrants and now… “Inni-grants”

Cape Town.

Rich people from up country in other provinces from Joburg and Durban are running to the Western Cape. Rich people running from poor service delivery and thieves stealing their wealth. Rich people from other countries in Europe are flocking here like sheep to Cape Town to lie on our sandy white beaches and bask in our golden sunshine.

Cape Town.

Poor people are herded to the cities like cattle from the wasteland of farm lands. From former independent homelands allocated during decades of apartheid the migrant labour has become a way of life. Leaving behind desolate families to fend for themselves or starve. Leaving behind children and young boys starving for a respected role model of manhood. Leaving behind their pride, their morals and their culture of the previous millennia. In the cities they are praying to get given jobs to make money to take back to their families. In the city they are preyed upon by whites for cheap labour in their huge homes. In the townships they are preyed upon by blacks eager to exploit their minimal earnings. In their backyard accommodation they are cooped up like chickens living and suffocating in over crowded tin shanty shacks that let in the rain and the wind.

Views to The Mother City across False Bay
PHOTOGRAPHY © Geoffrey Wright, Cape Town

My journey continues…

With no transport nor the means to pay for it I resorted to my old modus operandi, hitch-hiking. Leaving home from Somerset I walked west to a good vantage point along the N2 national road heading to Cape Town but to hitch-hike to Guguletu.

Guguletu along with Nyanga was established to accommodate poor African migrant labour in the 1960s. Guguletu is a suburb, still called a township, which was built on the sand dunes of the Cape Flats situated on the outskirts of Cape Town. It was close enough to get to work to keep “them” employed, but at a safe enough distance from white suburbia to ensure that “those people” went home after dark.

Gugs? You’ll be Necklaced. You’ll be castrated or at least circumcised! You’ll end up like Amy Biehl. ^

No, I will not, because firstly I’m streetwise, and secondly “these people” are my friends, and thirdly because of my white skin there is an unspoken knowing that the police are more lightly to intervene in and follow up on a crime committed against me than they would on a “non-white” citizen.

This is all true to a point.

Yes, many of the specific local areas are impoverished and with high crime rates and therefore known as dangerous. Yes, in the international crime statistics for violent crime, rape and murder South Africa is in the top 4 in the world. Yes, I am sussed when it comes to the “laws of the jungle”. I am aware of my being when I cross over the black and white line. I am observant of my stance, my stride and my smile. Stance, not too arrogant, nor confrontational but not cowardly. My posture not hunched in fear and protection of being out of my comfort zone, but not puffing up my chest and looking down my nose at these “savages” who just aren’t doing life the right way or the white way. Stride, not hurried steps like I am running away from someone or something scary… not in a rush to get to safety… but not too casual as though I am ignorant of any potential danger or lost and don’t know what I have wandered into. Smile, with courtesy and respect, in friendly casual greeting. Smile, not dumb tourist grin where every human with a black skin must be patronised by a cheesy smile and a cheesy selfie photo with arms around a stranger like long lost class mate! My funniest and most unexpected reaction was me walking through Cross Roads dressed, I thought, appropriately for a funeral. I wore a smart collared and buttoned white shirt but not tucked in to my trousers to give it some flair. As I was striding on a sunny sociable Sunday afternoon I had the friendly hails and hallelujahs and calls of JEEZUS in greeting. They thought I was a missionary or an evangelist, this whitey in his white robes… Now how is that for a disguise in a covert operation into “deepest darkest Africa”? But I too have my naive ignorance. My naive ignorance of believing that all men were created equal. My chosen belief of not believing that mankind will not always “do unto others…” And I have a naive innocence. This innocence is from my never having actually witnessed nor actively experienced the brutality of physical violent crime of one human against another.

Views from my family land across Somerset West, across False Bay to Mountains beyond.
PHOTOGRAPHY © Geoffrey Wright, Cape Town

I resorted to my old modus operandi, hitch-hiking. The now outdated and romanticised means of the Hippies and Surfers and Students to “break on through to the other side…” * Thumbing a ride, I hitch-hiked to Guguletu.

A surfer from the old Transkei picked me up. He had been brought into the family business. With his father’s ageing and his dad’s full consent and support, he was strategically adjusting the business model and the modus operandi to an ever changing world. He said “Nooit, my Bru! You can’t just like walk into Gugs. I will like drive you into Gugs and right to your destination. No sweat, Brah.”

I arrived safely! Remember in Chapter 1, I was warned “Stay away from that man…!” “Eish! Geoffrey, my brother, you are on time!” This is Qaba, my brother from another mother, speaking. Qaba arrived at exactly the same time as I did. He had done a deal with a local taxi owner who was tolerant of the activists. Qaba offered me a lift with the coordinated transport for the comrades but I declined as I had to be waiting on the freeway at 7 o’clock in the morning. I had hitch-hiked… I left at 11am and arrived at 12;30pm. We arrived at exactly the same time!

“Hello. I got a lucky lift?” I said.

“White Privilege!” He said.

Sometimes I have my back against the wall. But I will always have back-up. Gugs Graffiti, 2024
PHOTOGRAPHY © Geoffrey Wright, Cape Town

Cape Town… on the slopes and in the shadows of Table Mountain… Hoerikwiggo…

Cape Town.

Poor people are herded to the cities like cattle from the wasteland of farm lands. From former independent homelands allocated during decades of apartheid the migrant labour has become a way of life. Leaving behind desolate families to fend for themselves or starve. Leaving behind children and young boys starving for a respected role model of manhood. Leaving behind their pride, their morals and their culture of the previous millennia. In the cities they are praying to get given jobs to make money to take back to their families. In the city they are preyed upon by whites for cheap labour in their huge homes. In the townships they are preyed upon by blacks eager to exploit their minimal earnings. In their backyard accommodation they are couped up like chickens living and suffocating in over crowded tin shanty shacks that let in the rain and the wind.

Bobby Mgijima, Bobby Mgijima, former member of the youth movement LAGUNYACRO (Langa, Gugulethu, Nyanga, Cross Roads)
PHOTOGRAPHY © Geoffrey Wright, Cape Town

The Memorial Service for Mhlobo Gunguluzu.

Greetings! Greetings to each and every one of you here today, 17th April 2024. This is a Memorial Service for Mhlobo Gunguluzu, “a selfless social justice activist”. Besides the family member and friend we knew, besides the fighter for freedom to each cause he dedicated himself to, not everybody including many of us knew how qualified he was, with a BA Honours in Social Sciences, at University of Cape Town. Not all of us knew the extent and diversity of his work. Let us contemplate a few of these and the impact they have had on peoples lives.

Right2Know Campaign,

Senior Librarian at Bellville College of Education,

Unemployed & Social Activists Committee (USAC),

The Movement for Change and Social Justice (MCSJ).

Political analyst and writer, in The Mail & Guardian, News24, Business Day, and ILRIG’s Workers World News.

Right 2 Know Campaign, Stop The Secrecy Bill, 7th June 2011
DESIGN © Right2Know Campaign, PHOTOGRAPHY © Geoffrey Wright, Cape Town

Bobby Mgijima, a trade unionist and a social justice activist
PHOTOGRAPHY © Geoffrey Wright, Cape Town

His elder sister like a true Mama:

“We family and his parents never understood what he was doing for work as a career. We saw T-Shirts with slogans. We saw that he was always going to protests. We saw he was often coming home from meetings. We saw newspaper articles he had published. We often said “Mhlobo you must get a job!”

Mhlobo replied ”I have a job. I have permanent work. I am a social activist. In my own country I have work now, and forever into the future…”

Mama’s words were met with the cheers of acknowledgement of a crowd of people who can relate to the continuous trials yet limited recognition in the life work of an activist. Fists punched the air in salute.

“Amandla…”

“Awethu…!”

Power to The People.

Mama’s words were almost the last words which I understood that day because she had spoken them in the English language. Xhosa, the traditional African language of the peoples from the Eastern Cape, I still do not understand. You know us whitey’s, we can’t say “the clicks”.

This Mama broke into a diatribe against the injustice institutionalised into a system influencing directly on every aspect of peoples lives, including and importantly their belief of their own self worth.

BukelwaNorooi Sgu Gunguluzi, the only surviving older sister of the late comrade Mhlobo
PHOTOGRAPHY © Geoffrey Wright, Cape Town

BukelwaNorooi Sgu Gunguluzi, an ANC activist in her own right…
PHOTOGRAPHY © Geoffrey Wright, Cape Town

BukelwaNorooi Sgu Gunguluzi, and Khayalethu Luphuwana
PHOTOGRAPHY © Geoffrey Wright, Cape Town

“This is a memorial. We are all here to share some words and sentiments about Mhlobo and this life we all share.

And a reminder… If you don’t stand up, then I will call your name.”

Khayalethu Luphuwana
PHOTOGRAPHY © Geoffrey Wright, Cape Town

Khayalethu Luphuwana holding a photo of Mhlobo
PHOTOGRAPHY © Geoffrey Wright, Cape Town

**Baba Mfengwana, a neighbuor of Mhlobo, and ANC member**
PHOTOGRAPHY © Geoffrey Wright, Cape Town

Siviwe Mdoda, a land and agrarian social justice activist working for Tshiaimani Centre
PHOTOGRAPHY © Geoffrey Wright, Cape Town

“Speak about the land”… he urged. Qaba.

He nodded his head urging and directing me to the open mike opportunity to speak up.

I did and… As a privileged white kid I was not fearful of of public speaking. As a privileged white kid, who attended nurturing schools, schools well funded by government authority, and well sponsored by contributions from an old boys union of successful businessmen, whose teachers were highly qualified and experienced, whose safe white school environment in safe white suburbs, where the school classrooms were in double storeys, and where buildings roof did not leak in the rainy season. I had been for the majority of my life in spaces which were encouraging of public speaking. I had lead roles in Junior school drama. I had orated poetry in high school competitions. I had studied English Grammar and had full comprehension of the “literary greats”, all of them British or European or North American, and had read at least the one set-work book written by an author of African origin… if I remember rightly in was by Chinua Achebe… “Things Fall Apart.”

I had still not learned, in my naivety and my sincerity, the irony nor the boundaries of the term “freedom of speech.”

“The word is mightier than the sword.”

This week I had finished reading “My Life with Martin Luther King, Jr.” the Biography by Coretta Scott King, his wife, and in her own right a professional singer, and esteemed activist for equal rights and opportunities for black Americans. I know that there was something that struck me on pg. 122 not I can not for the life of me remember what? I was still reeling with emotion. I was still dealing with the injustice. I was still traumatised in the knowledge that all the wrongs of my people had robbed their people of their own wealth, that the crimes against humanity in history benefitted me, and that try as I might, cry as I might, even die as I might… I would always carry the burden of shame.

“My Life with Martin Luther King, Jr.” the Biography by Coretta Scott King * ^ *

…and now it was my turn to speak!
“Good afternoon everybody. Us white people, we are stupid.

There are no chains around my feet. But I’m not free. I’m still chained in poverty. I’m still chained in a concrete jungle. My mind is not free. My mind is still chained in poverty. Chained in a concrete jungle of thinking. Of perceptions of lack. Of lack of money. Of lack of possessions.”

Geoffrey’s speech. T-Shirt : PHANTSI Labour Broking, Contract Work, Casual Work.
PHOTOGRAPHY © from video Nandi and Qaba, Cape Town

Geoffrey’s speech. T-Shirt : Nothing About Us, Without Us. MACUA. WAMUA.
PHOTOGRAPHY © from video Nandi and Qaba, Cape Town

Geoffrey’s speech. T-Shirt : Vaccine Rollout Monitor. T-Shirt : Defend. Democratise. Politicise.
PHOTOGRAPHY © from video Nandi and Qaba, Cape Town

Us whitey’s are stupid.

In the 1960’s…

1963

In The United States of America they assassinated President John F. Kennedy.

A white man by a white man… or was it men?

President Kennedy’s assassination erupted in many conspiracy theories that even to this day are believed by the majority of Americans. His assassination was the first of four major assassinations during the 1960s in the United States, ending with Kennedy’s own brother in 1968.

On 28th August 1963, Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., an African-American clergyman and civil rights movement leader, made his famous speech, “I Have a Dream”. This was part of the March on Washington, D.C, the capital city. He addressed a huge crowd of people standing at a statue of previous president Lincoln, “a great American, in whose symbolic shadow we stand today, signed the Emancipation Proclamation. This momentous decree came as a great beacon light of hope to millions of Negro slaves who had been seared in the flames of withering injustice. It came as a joyous daybreak to end the long night of their captivity. But 100 years later, the Negro still is not free. One hundred years later, the life of the Negro is still sadly crippled by the manacles of segregation and the chains of discrimination.”

Dr Martin Luther King, “I Have a Dream”
PHOTOGRAPHY © AFP via Getty Images

1964

Nelson Mandela is imprisoned for life.

Nelson Mandela Portrait
PHOTOGRAPHY ©

1965

The assassination of Malcolm X, an African American Muslim minister, a human rights activist, prolific in the civil rights movement in the USA. Apparently assainated by militant Muslims.

Meanwhile secret FBI programs had been established to infiltrate and disrupt civil rights organisations during the 1950s and 1960s.

Malcolm X Portrait
PHOTOGRAPHY ©

Police and stretchers for Malcolm X
PHOTOGRAPHY ©

1968

Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. was fatally shot, on April 4, 1968.

By a white man.

Dr Martin Luther King Jr. portrait
PHOTOGRAPHY ©

1974

You know what was happening in 1974? In South Africa?

The General Elections were held in 1974 which were won once again won by the National Party, with an increased parliamentary majority, and led by Prime Minister B. J. Vorster.

In the 1970’s more than 3 million people were forcibly resettled in black ‘homelands’.

More than 600 people were killed in clashes between black protesters and security forces during the uprisings which started in Soweto in 1976.

Books. Prime Minister B.J Vorster, The Man. Muldergate, The Story of the Info Scandal. Dr A.P. Treurnicht, Credo van ’n Afrikaner. Recent books in my library, bought cheap at N.G. Kerk, Helderberg.
PHOTOGRAPHY © Geoffrey Wright, Cape Town

The “Horror” scope! Prime Minister Vorster, Prince Charles… Newspaper horoscope 1970.
PHOTOGRAPHY © Geoffrey Wright, Cape Town

Architect of Apartheid, H.F. Verwoerd
PHOTOGRAPHY © Geoffrey Wright, Cape Town

Armoured South African Defence Force (SADF) vehicles in the townships
PHOTOGRAPHY ©

Armoured vehicles in the townships
PHOTOGRAPHY ©

1984

The photograph of me is in high school and I think I’m cool. Everybody in high school thinks they’re cool. So I’m going to a live music concert. The band is called eVoid. eVoid made a “fad and fashion” image of African influence, the followers they named “Fadgets”. I’m wearing my African beads. Why? Because I think I’m African. I am African. For myself and many whitey’s this adoption of facets of African culture was more than fun. It was a statement of rebellion against Eurocentric domination and dismissiveness of all things African. It was consciously a bold challenge of a striking visual appearance. It was a sincere call for justice. It was however subconsciously a deep curiosity to learn what it was that was been hidden from us about these dark people. It was need to know why Africans had been denied human rights.

I was subconsciously and sadly experiencing a deep longing for connection and community. It was denial of shame and horror too dark to acknowledge and admit. It was survival to believe that it was enough to believe in liberal ideology. Belief regardless of the daily toil and nights or torment which the majority of second and third class citizens in the land of their birth survived.

“I am a Fadget” Geoffrey Wright dressed for a concert by eVoid, 1984

SONG

I am a Fadget

Written by Erik Rudolph Windrich, Lucien Ernest Windrich

Performed by eVoid

SONG

Shadows

Written by Erik Rudolph Windrich, Lucien Ernest Windrich

Performed by eVoid

That year 1984 I got to go to another music concert, and who is playing? Juluka! It’s a white man and a black man making music together. Johnny Clegg and Sipho Mchunu. They have a genuine friendship and an ingenious collaboration. They are breaking boundaries in the mid 1980s in South Africa. But they are also breaking law. They may not perform together on the same stage because they are a multi racial and multi cultural band. Banned by the government controlled radio they get no airplay in their own homeland. They sing in English and in Zulu. They sing some beautiful music. Their music touches me as a white man living in South Africa. I understood nothing of the Zulu language except for translations of a handful of words, but I sing along in mispronunciation and misinterpretation, hands high up in the air, and feet lifted in mock battle high kicks, and dancing in high spirits. Myself joyfully singing along to the defeat of my own ancestors… by the assegai spears of a Zulu regiment.

“Hopeless battalion destined to die

Broken by the Benders of Kings

Vainglorious General and Victorian pride

Would cost him and eight hundred men their lives”

Impressed. Curious. Ignorant. Juluka has local fans and local fame. But internationally it’s the white man, Johnny, who becomes famous. Sipho? He can’t take the pressure of a white man’s world and he chooses to go back to his farm. He is farming. He is planting food and he is feeding his soul.

That concert was celebrated at The Good Hope Centre which is in the middle of Cape Town. Juluka! Juluka! Juluka! Who can afford the tickets? The white people. The black people can not afford the tickets.

“White privilege.” A voice from the audience of mourners.

SONG

Impi

Written by Johnny Clegg

Performed by Juluka, Johnny Clegg and Sipho Mchunu

Juluka. Cover artwork for the vinyl album, Ubuhle Bemvelo, their first full length LP featuring only songs in the Zulu language.
PHOTOGRAPHY ©

Who is the support group for Juluka? The Soul Brothers! Do you know Soul Brothers?

Yes, you do know Soul Brothers. Us whitey’s, we didn’t know the Soul Brothers.

Why?

Because we are living in Africa but we are stupid. We are stupid about Africa. The Soul Brothers at that time was the biggest selling South African band in the whole of South Africa. Us whitey’s we didn’t know them and we had never heard of them.

This is the problem. This is the problem!

We don’t know. So when you try to speak to a white person they don’t know. Be it your boss, your teacher, any authority, or your friend. They don’t know because they don’t experience it. They don’t know because we only speak one or two of the eleven languages official in our own country.

Soul Brothers. Cover artwork for the vinyl album, Impimpi, featuring only songs in the Zulu language.

SONG

Impimpi

Written by David Masondo, Moses Ngwenya

Performed by Soul Brothers

1992

In 1992 Nelson Mandela negotiates his freedom from Prison with President F.W. de Klerk
(I mention Mandela with subtlety and selectively only twice, as I am well aware of socialist stances among many of those gathered today. Many carry an attitude that to them, Mandela was a sell out to Capitalism, a betrayal with the majority of wealth and land still in the hands of a chosen few… a minority handful of whiteys… When I first learned this, this had been so unexpected that I could not get my head around the diametrically opposed hero status held high by the majority of South African as well as international whiteys…)

SONG

Sisi Mandela

Written & Performed by Kenyan artist Mbilia Bel, Faya Tess, Tabu Ley Rochereau

SONG

Mandela Day

Written by Charles Burchill, James Kerr, Mel George Gaynor, Michael Joseph McNeil

Performed by Simple Minds

1994

We have an election. We are now a Democracy. The winners were the African National Congress (ANC) who had been outlawed in South Africa since the 1950s for its opposition to apartheid. Lots of potential and promise. Lots of conferences. Lots of “teta-teta”. Lots of talk. Lots of drinking tea. They say that the elections marked the end of Apartheid in South Africa.

Selling from Snoek to Surgery. But security and safety are the best sellers, both the motivators and the demotivation in South Africa. Walls. Barbed wire. Razor wire. Rolls and rolls and rolls…
PHOTOGRAPHY © Geoffrey Wright, Cape Town

2004

My brother Mhlobo and my brother Qaba. We were active. CNF Community Networking Forum. ILRIG International Labour Resource Information Group. SADEC Conference (Southern African Developing Countries) in Zambia, Sustainable Development Conference in The Cape Town International Conference Centre, WESSA Wildlife and Environment Society of South Africa, EJNF Environmental Justice Networking Forum, Community Educational School Workshop camping out in Noordhoek, Community Awareness Retreat camping out in Worcester, Auroville Village, (inTamil Nadu, India) International Conference in Constantia, National Union of Mineworkers Conference at Community House in Salt River, and a Seven Day Walk Raising Awareness of Xenophobia right the way around the Cape Peninsula.

Social Activists…!

2006

Former State President F.W. de Klerk is saved. YOU Magazine. June 2006
PHOTOGRAPHY © YOU Magazine

2007

I was the only white man on the bus.

A journey to the SADEC Conference (Southern African Developing Countries) in August 2007. It was an enduring bus drive from Cape Town though Zimbabwe to Lusaka, in Zambia. We attended a Community College hosted by Community Networking Forum (CNF), and Khanya College. Mhlobo Gunguluzu challenged my participation and questioned my sincerity. This man checked me out, and checked me “skeef”. He constantly questioned my commitment. The Leaders and Politicians spoke behind closed doors. We presented a mandate motivated by the on the ground activists from all the countries in the region. We can only guess what the Leaders and Politicians motivation was…? It has since been an endearing journey with comrade Mhlobo.

Activists form many countries in Sub-Saharan Africa. In the foreground are Geoffrey Wright and Qaba Mbolo. SADEC Conference, Lusaka
PHOTOGRAPHY © Geoffrey Wright, Cape Town

Andile, of Community Networking Forum (CNF), Lusaka
PHOTOGRAPHY © Geoffrey Wright, Cape Town

A colourful question from a shirted Activist in Lusaka
PHOTOGRAPHY © Geoffrey Wright, Cape Town

We took a journey to Robben Island Prison with artist and activist and former prisoner, Lionel Davis as our guide. He led us to see lime quarries where political prisoners were forced to do manual labour… and to witness the prison cell of Nelson Mandela, 46664. I was the only white man on the bus.

A photograph was posted on social media showing black activists based in the Western Cape and other areas of the country from wide spectrum of NGO’s and campaigning for social justice.

I wondered… ten years later where are those five youngest activists full of the enthusiasm of youth? Two dead from inefficient access to medical health and hospitals? Two dead from township gang related murder? One of them arrested for petty crime and possession of “Tik” (Meth Amphetamine) and still waiting trial…

I am sure Mhlobo Gunguluzu would have agreed.

Qaba’s comment was “In 2004 we took a group of vibrant activists from around the country to Robben Island. About four of the activists have passed on since. The kid standing in the passage in about 20 years from now will most likely turn out to be a feared gangster (a menace to society) in his community. And the only white in the group, Geoffrey Wright, is still protected by white privilege and will probably outlive all of us because of his safe healthy environment.

I myself had not even considered this perspective.

I was the only white man on the bus.

Activists by bus to Robben Island Prison
PHOTOGRAPHY ©

SONG

Asimbonanga (Mandela)

Written by Johnny Clegg

Performed by Johnny Clegg & Savuka

Sustainable Development Conference – 2011
PHOTOGRAPHY © Geoffrey Wright, Cape Town

A journey of Walking for Seven Days to raise awareness of the rising swell of Xenophobia against foreign nationals working in South Africa. With fifteen activists, most of them under twenty years of age, we walked from one end of Cape Town to the other. We stopped in various suburbs to offer open discussion with residents and activists participant. We screened relevant movies. We offered the opportunity for people to consider the role and feelings of both the perpetrators and the victims of Xenophobia. Our sole aims were for people to review their thinking and convictions regarding work, national identity, and cultural customs. opening the floor to honest communication with no barriers we encouraged those present to come to new realisations, and take personal responsibility. Qaba had the conviction that South Africans fighting against Apartheid were given military training and given safe refuge in Angola, Botswana, Zimbabwe, Tanzania, Mozambique… now in their political and economic struggle it was time for us to help them. One month later a horrific wave of killing foreign nationals, burning their homes, and looting their “spaza” shops swept throughout the whole of South Africa.

T-Shirt design for Xenophobia Seven Day Walk
DESIGN © Geoffrey Wright, Cape Town

T-Shirt design for Xenophobia Seven Day Walk
DESIGN © Geoffrey Wright, Cape Town

Our whole crew of volunteer activists on the Xenophobia Seven Day Walk, including Andile, with Qaba Mbola and Lizo Makambi. at Rainbow Educare, a pre-school where we sheltered for the night in Masiphumulele, near Kommetjie
PHOTOGRAPHY © Geoffrey Wright, Cape Town

Walking through different suburbs on the Xenophobia Seven Day Walk a young activist points out the graffiti demanding a higher wage
PHOTOGRAPHY © Geoffrey Wright, Cape Town

Spaza Shop, everything from batteries to bubblegum for sale, Baden Powell Drive, Khayelitsha
PHOTOGRAPHY © Geoffrey Wright, Cape Town

A horrific wave of Xenophobic killing, burning, and looting swept throughout the whole of South Africa.

A mournful dirge murmured from the gathering sounded. A song. Voices catching their breath from the smoke and the flames of recent activity. Voices questioning their freedom from a lifetime of atrocity A song. A tradition of healing the soul. Soon the volume rose, from their seats the people rose, hands and arms raised into to air, clapping and cheering, swaying and dancing, and the singing rose and blossomed in the first light and colour of a new day.

“Senzeni Na?”

What have we done?”

Seated. Solemn. Sullen. Sadness. This our country. This is serious and must be stopped. Xenophobia.
PHOTOGRAPHY © Geoffrey Wright, Cape Town

Song “Senzeni Na?”
PHOTOGRAPHY © Geoffrey Wright, Cape Town

Qaba Mbolo and Nandi Vanqa-Mgijima, in song
PHOTOGRAPHY © Geoffrey Wright, Cape Town

SONG

Senzeni Na

Written by Traditional Xhosa

Performed by Various on album Gospel, Choral A-cappela, South Africa

From grieving… to celebrating! Nandi Vanqa-Mgijima, Head of Casual Workers Advice Office, and Qaba Mbolo
T-Shirt : “Reclaiming Public Participation and Inclusion as the Foundation of Democracy” at Marginalised and Affected Communities Summit 2024. PHOTOGRAPHY © Geoffrey Wright, Cape Town

Qaba Mbolo, an orator, a leader and an inspiration
PHOTOGRAPHY © Geoffrey Wright, Cape Town

Qaba Mbolo, animated in communication, activist in conviction, action as an example
PHOTOGRAPHY © Geoffrey Wright, Cape Town

Laughter
PHOTOGRAPHY © Geoffrey Wright, Cape Town

2014

In 2014 the “born frees” (those born after 1994) voted for the first time.

The African National Congress (ANC) won the elections, with their election campaign saying how life in South Africa had improved during 20 years of ANC rule since the first democratic elections. The ANC won 249 of the 400 seats at stake in the National Assembly. Jacob Zuma was re-elected as the country’s President.

Political Poster 2014 on Adderley Street. IFP (Inkatha Freedom Party). “Die Mag Is Joune” (The Power Is Yours) with Mangosuthu Buthelezi.
PHOTOGRAPHY © Geoffrey Wright, Cape Town

Political Poster 2014 at Cape Town Grand Parade. VF Plus (Vryheidsfront Plus / Freedom Front Plus). “Saam Is Ons Sterker” (Together we are stronger) with Pieter Mulder.
PHOTOGRAPHY © Geoffrey Wright, Cape Town

On 19th April 2014 the leaders from the churches, the mosques, the synagogues, the religions and the spiritual paths from all over the Western Cape held a mass demonstration at the gates of at Parliament of South Africa. They gathered in unity with clear message of non support of Zuma. The gathering was called “A Call To Witness”.

Archbishop Desmond Tutu with his successor Archbishop Njongonkulu Ndungane gather outside Parliament with religious leaders of all faiths to publicly state their lack of faith in the State President Jacob Zuma
PHOTOGRAPHY © Geoffrey Wright, Cape Town

“A crowd has gathered, black and white, arms entwined, the chosen few, the newspaper says it’s true, its true, we can be one…” quote U2
PHOTOGRAPHY © Dirk Visser ^ ^

“No regime can survive if it acts above the heads of the Citizens.” Mandela. hand written Poster on gates of Parliament
PHOTOGRAPHY © Geoffrey Wright, Cape Town

Songs of Freedom – Two choirs unite, one from Norway and one from South Africa, to sing tribute to Nelson Mandela, St Georges Cathedral
PHOTOGRAPHY © Geoffrey Wright, Cape Town

2024

It is now 2024.

What has changed?

WHAT has changed?

“Nothing.” A chorus from the mourners.

“Things are worse.” A solitary voice.

The defiance denied defeat. This song demanded dancing.

“My Father was a garden boy. My Mother was a kitchen girl. That’s why I am Socialist. I’m Socialist. I’m Socialist.”

The irony is by no means lost on me.

What I omitted to mention is that it is rumoured that Somerset West hosts amongst the highest concentration of millionaires per square kilometre in the country. The statistics prove that Somerset West has the eighth highest concentration of R20 million properties in South Africa.

The irony is by no means lost on me. I will by no means lose my family land. Unless…

Glenora, The Orchard, a field full of Lemon Trees was cut down because of unwanted homeless “bergies” were apparently sleeping under the trees
PHOTOGRAPHY © Geoffrey Wright, Cape Town

The Paddock, a field where in my childhood the farm horse, Pickles, and the farm cow, Mookey, grazed on grass watered by a public dam further up the valley.
PHOTOGRAPHY © Geoffrey Wright, Cape Town

So I was born in a house in Somerset West in the 1960s. On a farm. Fresh air. Blue Sky. So much space. The government comes along and says: this is not a farm anymore. We are re-zoning this land. This is now a residential area. This is no longer farm land. We can’t use a water from our dam. We can no longer plant vegetables or grow fruit or harvest grapes. We have to give away our horse. We have to give away our cow. All the labourers, you can not live in this area anymore. All the workers? Goodbye, find another house to live. Goodbye!

All around my family farm is suburban sprawl. Big houses. Big green grass lawns. Big blue swimming pools. Big white cars.

Why? Because it’s squeaky wipe clean suburbia. What do these people do with their time and their money? Everybody is building walls. Higher higher higher. Then on top of the walls, rolls of barbed wire. Then on top of that 12 lines of electrified security fence. Every window of fresh air and view of the mountain… secure behind burglar bars. They’re building their own prison.

Walls. Walls of separation.

They’re hiding behind the walls. What that means is that they are cut off from the world outside. Cut off from Africa.

So they understand less and less and less about Africa. They don’t know Africa.

My Mother is now too in prison.

We pay another white man to run his business to look after my Mother, our elders, and a lot of other rich people.

“White privilege.” A solitary voice.

The Somerset Mall on one side of a very high fence topped with razor wire is a shopping mall for the rich. On the other side of the security fence, on the other side of a water trench, on the other side of the National Freeway N2, on a piece of no-mans-land are some shacks for the poor. Far over a few white suburbs with schools and churches and a golf course… is the majesty of the “clear mountain”, The Helderberg.
PHOTOGRAPHY © Geoffrey Wright, Cape Town

A farm situated above The Helderberg College of Higher Education, and at the point where the rocky cliff begin of The Helderberg Mountain. Note the priorities: land, water and a security fence
PHOTOGRAPHY © Geoffrey Wright, Cape Town

Behind us is The Helderberg Mountain, on one side, The Helderberg College of Higher Education, on the other side of a very high security fence is the most upmarket suburb in The Helderberg. Unfortunately these residents are too busy to appreciate the richness of the golden sun setting.
PHOTOGRAPHY © Geoffrey Wright, Cape Town

Spanish Farm. Unfortunately these residents are too busy to appreciate the richness of the golden sun setting.
PHOTOGRAPHY © Geoffrey Wright, Cape Town

My mother was attacked on the family farm. Why was my mother attacked? Because we don’t have walls. Walls! No walls around our house. So what do we do? We take her away from her home. We take her away from her familiar environment where she’s been living for the last 60 years. We take her away from her own home. She lives in the prison of a retirement home for old people. She lives for the last years of her life surrounded by strangers. We pay another white man to look after our family elders.

My mother was a teacher. She has taught many children. She has helped many parents raise their children. She should have retired at an old age but she chose to continue teaching the youth. She then started a Remedial School for Children with Disabilities. What did she learn? What wisdom can she share? Where is all that life experience? Where is all that knowledge? Locked away!

Us white people are stupid.

My Mother, Doreen Wright, for 21 years Principal of Happy Days Pre-Primary, Somerset West, with staff members, Franchesca, Dalene, Suzanne, and Gladys
PHOTOGRAPHY © JMT Studios 1990

Doreen Wright, visiting reuniting with staff member, Vivian Malgas, from the former Horizon Remedial School, in The Helderberg
PHOTOGRAPHY © Geoffrey Wright, Cape Town

Mum and Me. Doreen Wright and Geoffrey wearing T-Shirts of their top priority passion. Purring Cats. Protest to Save the Mountain.
PHOTOGRAPHY © Geoffrey Wright, Cape Town

“Speak about the land.” A voice from my brother from another mother, Qaba. “Speak about the land”… he urged.

What happens to my family farm?

What happens when every single white person comes to visit my family farm? The home where I was born?

“Yes, yes, yes we must chop it up and make more houses and everybody can have their own walls… and sell the land and make lots of money, money, money, money, money…

What happens when every single black African person comes to visit the family farm? The only home I have ever known?

The first thing they want to do on the land is plant vegetables, so we can feed each other…

Aluta Continua…!

The Struggle Continues…!

Geoffrey holding a photo of Mhlobo, with words of eulogy at his memorial service.
PHOTOGRAPHY © from video Nandi and Qaba, Cape Town

SONG

A Luta Continua

Written & Performed by Miriam Makeba

Tambudzai Sakutukwa, Geoffrey Wright and Qaba Mbolo strategising a collaborative project of Building Ecological Regenerative Agriculture Societies, with BERAS International, an organisation in Sweden.
PHOTOGRAPHY © from video by Mr Sakutukwa

SONG

Not Yet Uhuru

Written by Caiphus Semenya, Letta Mbulu

Performed by Letta Mbulu

Trust from Zimbabwe cleared shrubs and an overgrown lawn to prepare an organic food garden. The beginnings of Food Gardening again in 2023 for the first time since 1960, at Glenora Redemption, the family farm.

Trust and Alice cleared bushes and weeds to prepare organised rows of beds for another food garden

Trust now planting seeds in the food garden created by his agile speedy work

Nceba from the Eastern Cape where he has his own farmland, is planting a food garden at Glenora

Tomato plants bear fruit… sun needed now to ripen the tomatoes

Orange Cat inspects Nceba’s food garden

Geoffrey mulches and landscapes the front lawn

Carlos from Mozambique who cuts thin Honeysuckle stems to weave into baskets as well as walls to protect vegetable patches

Carlos works as a Gardener for many neighbours. He has a huge stash stocked up for his own weekend work

DEDICATION :

This work is dedicated to Mhlobo Gunguluzu, “a selfless social justice activist”.

BA Honours in Social Sciences, University of Cape Town

Librarian at Good Hope Teachers College,

Senior Librarian at Bellville College of Education,

Political analyst and writer, who contributed research and opinions to following publications:

The Mail & Guardian, News24, Business Day, Sowetan Live. The Khanya College Karibu Journal, ILRIG’s Workers World News.

The Mail & Guardian: Politicians fail miners – The Mail & Guardian (mg.co.za)

To each and every one of Mhlobo family and friends, comrades and co-workers and collaborators at:

Right2Know Campaign,

Community Networking Forum, CNF,

University of Cape Town Department of Social Sciences,

Good Hope Teachers College,

Bellville College of Education,

Khanya College – Johannesburg,

ILRIG International Labour Resource Information Group – Cape Town,

Gugulethu Backyarders Forum and Housing Assembly,

Unemployed & Social Activists Committee (USAC), Anti-Eviction Campaign,

The Movement for Change and Social Justice (MCSJ).

PHOTO CREDITS :

All photography by Geoffrey Wright unless otherwise stated.

DISCLAIMER :

Eish! My writing is obviously from my own perspective as a white man born and living in South Africa. As such there are ideologies and sentiments of value to me. As an individual, I am constantly questioning my own beliefs, those imposed on me, as well as those which I have taken for normal… but may be completely abnormal to other people who have their own beliefs, and their own culture.

My writing is both composed to be understood by a broader readership including people living overseas to introduce them to more insight into South Africa, to visitors to give them a reality check on the duality and dichotomy of living in this land, as well as those who are less familiar with the English language, but also our people who call this land home.

As such I offer clues and candidates who are easily recognised by the majority, i.e. Nelson Mandela.

This is to give people a sense of identity with his inspiration his hero status, an interest in reading further, but they may be completely ignorant of the light in which he is seen and attitude held many honourable activists.

My writing is purposefully spontaneously popping out in ping-pong style. This makes it sometimes a deeper subconscious knowledge, or a personal issue I am selfishly dealing with or in denial of, or sometimes a statement that I know will be laying down the gauntlet to challenge others into discussion about their own beliefs or prejudice.

You are most welcome to share my writing widely knowing that I come from a good place, and mean no disrespect to many, but that I will be welcome to hear all criticism and comment.

SONGS QUOTED:

Break on Through

Written by Jim Morrison, John Densmore, Ray Manzarek, Robby Krieger

Performed by The Doors

The lyrics “break on through to the other side…” have been claimed to represent the shifting of consciousness to seeing though material and physical existence to a trancidental reality of “the other side”. The Doors, a legendary American rock band took their name from an Aldus Huxley book entitled “The Doors of Perception.”

The lyrics and the themes were popularised again and again through various decades of students, beach-bums and intellectuals in The Cape of Good Dope.

SOUNDTRACK: Waiting for Mr Wright. 7: Us Whitey’s Are Stupid