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Even though they begged and pleaded, the Red Ants demolished residents’ shacks, leaving them with nothing but the clothes on their backs
It is the morning after havoc rained on the residents of Daxina.
The veld housing a section of the Lakeview informal settlement in Lawley, southern Johannesburg, is quiet, except for the rhythmic sound of a hammer hitting a nail in the distance.
“You wouldn’t say there was chaos here yesterday,” says a resident, referring to Monday’s demolition job.
He has been hard at work rebuilding after their shacks and brick structures were demolished and allegedly looted over two days by the Red Ants, accompanied by heavily armed personnel from the Johannesburg metro police department.
Although some structures have fallen, those that remain are a distance away from one another, with nothing but knee-high grass between them.
“The only thing that we have to show for our efforts to stop the demolition is the dismantled corrugated iron materials we are now trying to salvage to rebuild the shacks,” he says, wiping the dripping sweat from his forehead.
Ndumiso Sibiya (20) has been a resident of the area for more than a year and, although his shack was not destroyed by the Red Ants, he is “helping his community to get back on their feet”.
With work boots on and a yellow bandana covering his head, Sibiya carries iron from one side to the other.
“Right now, we know that there is this coronavirus, and they [the Red Ants] came and destroyed the very shacks people were staying in to try to adhere to the lockdown regulations of staying indoors,” he says.
“Now we are forced to be outside, in groups, trying to recover from this destruction as we have to work closely, side by side, to try to get the structures up as soon as possible.”
Initially, he helped a number of the community members to build their “shacks from scratch as a piece job I get paid for”.
Like many of his neighbours, Sibiya says he did not sleep the night before.
“We had to stay up all night, sitting outside in front of a fire, in groups, once again violating the social distancing regulations, because we had to keep an eye on the material as it could get stolen.”
About 100m from him are a mother and son, Zoliswa and Gift Mdleleni, whose shack was also demolished.
The two work side by side, eagerly trying to get back what they have lost.
READ: ‘How do we social distance when our shacks are right on top of each other?’
Seventeen-year-old Gift pushes a wheelbarrow, collecting planks and corrugated iron and taking them to the site once occupied by “our shack”.
It is now just after midday.
The teenager tells City Press: “It has been a long day. We have been working since about 6am to try to make sure that we have a place to sleep tonight.”
His mother watches as her son delivers the necessary material to rebuild their shack.
“We bought this stand that we have built on,” she says, producing a receipt which indicates that Mdleleni paid an amount of R2 950.
“We are struggling and we cannot manage to pay rent. When someone presents you with an opportunity like this, with a stand where you are able to build your own shack – even though to many it is nothing – you will grab that opportunity with both hands.”
Taking the opportunity to rest as the sun blazes, resident Gcina Dladla sits under a tree to catch his breath.
“I was here when all of that commotion was happening. I was in my shack,” he says, shaking his head in disbelief as he relives the events from the day before.
Homeless Lakeview residents keeping warm
“We were told that they had come to demolish unoccupied structures but, when they arrived, I was inside my shack. They destroyed it regardless. I was dragged out and had my shack destroyed right in front of me. We begged and pleaded while some of them asked us to pay them amounts up to R200 if we wanted them to leave us alone.
“If a shack has no bed, they immediately assume no one lives there. Not all of us can afford luxuries like beds. We sleep on the floor using whatever we can find, including cardboard or plastic. So, to them, no bed in a shack means nobody lives in it.”
Lebogang Maile, Gauteng human settlements, cooperative governance and traditional affairs MEC, in a briefing held on Tuesday, insisted that the demolished houses were “incomplete, new and unoccupied”.
“We were left bare, with no roof over our heads. Why couldn’t they demolish our shacks knowing that they have an alternative place for us to go to?” asks a now homeless Dladla.
Merica Langa, who lives with her partner, says she is lucky enough to still have her shack.
She points to the ground and says: “This is where we had the fire burning all night. The neighbours whose shacks were demolished were all here and we took turns sleeping right next to the fire because we had to guard our material.
Most of our material was taken but we walked round trying to help our neighbours salvage what they could and then start rebuilding.” She has been a resident in the informal settlement for more than two years and wonders why this is happening now.
“I have been living here for almost two years now and they have not come here before. Why now?
“Why do they sit and watch us and then, when they see that we have built what we now call homes, they come and do this?
“During this time of corona they are making us run around when we are told to be indoors. We already have nothing and they are making things worse. We are trying our best. We don’t know where we will end up. We are already struggling and they are making it worse. We are already living in the grassland, but we are still being ill-treated.
“We are not asking for an RDP house. We are trying the best we can.”
It is now 7pm. After more than 12 hours of working hard to get what he now calls home up again, Gift is unable to complete the erection of his demolished structure.
“I have asked for accommodation from a neighbour who has allowed me to squat there for the night,” says a demotivated Gift, who is chopping planks to be used as firewood through the night as residents will again take shifts in keeping an eye on the material to be used for rebuilding.
For a second night in a row children, women and men gather around the fire outside Langa’s shack as they prepare for a long night ahead.
According to Maile, land invasions in the province “have spiralled in recent weeks, undermining the developmental agenda and authority of the state”.
“These invasions are incited by connected criminal networks taking advantage of the desperation within communities for decent housing amid the growing backlog in the province,” he says, adding that “the backlog in the province is now sitting at 1.2 million”.
Do you think it is humane to demolish shacks in this time of lockdown? Where are people supposed to go?
SMS us on 35697 using the keyword SHACKS and tell us what you think. Please include your name and province. SMSes cost R1.50. By participating, you agree to receive occasional marketing material
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