When solidarity isn’t just a nice word
By: Thekla Teunis
Tags: Emergency Response, Covid 19, South Africa, Solidarity, Inequality

I have written two blogs on the COVID-19 situation in South Africa, and felt after the second blog that perhaps I was ‘done’. But as the weeks pass here under one of the most stringent lockdowns in the world, and hunger and poverty are hitting the communities faster than COVID-19, I think it’s important to share another story. The story of ordinary people. People who, until a few weeks ago, were just going about their daily lives. They worked as a bookkeeper, as an ngo fundraiser, as a graphic designer. In their spare time, they were surfing, hiking, cooking, taking care of their families. Now, they are demonstrating what is possible when you put solidarity into practice. By giving it hands and feet, working together.

This is the story of Nolu and Teresa, two women who are part of a team which would have been difficult to imagine to exist a couple of weeks ago. It’s a team which cuts across racial and socio-economic differences, across geographical boundaries. But it’s a team with a common mission.

Teresa lives in Muizenberg and Nolu in Vrygrond. They are part of the Cape Town Together Initiative, a grassroots network which has enabled people to set up teams like these all over the city.

Vrygrond resident. Image by Isabel Corthier

Vrygrond is one of the oldest informal settlements in the Western Cape. Vrygrond means ‘Free Ground’ in Afrikaans. The story goes that it received its name when a rich Italian aristocrat gave this land to the community. The settlement was started by ‘trek’ fishermen who worked on the coast close by. ‘Trek’ is Afrikaans for ‘pulling’ — it’s a fishing technique whereby you pull nets from the sea onto the shore. Over time, the settlement has grown, especially during Apartheid when people from other areas such as Retreat were relocated into Vrygrond.

Today, approximately 80,000 people live in the area. There are no clinics. The closest clinic is in Seawinds, but that’s far away, and people are scared to walk there, because of the gangsterism in the area. See this short news-item from January 2020 on this issue. Unemployment rates are amongst the highest on the Cape Flats, with about 45% of the population unemployed, and about 80% of parents reporting that they don’t have a job. Most people live in RDP houses with about 8 people per house, plus another 4 to 5 in a backyard dwelling.

Views on Muizenberg (top) and Vrygrond (bottom). Images by Amava Oluntu.

Muizenberg is a neighbouring area, which is characterised by its surfer’s corner, large creative community, and chilled beach vibes. It is much more affluent than Vrygrond, even though Muizenberg also counts numerous vulnerable households.

Nolu works at an accounting firm for 4 days a week, and on her day off from work she is a human rights activist, fighting for her communities’ rights. Teresa works at Amava Oluntu, an NGO which attempts to bring people together from different backgrounds, to inspire each other to make a difference. Teresa and Nolu met a few months ago at a project called Vukuzenzele (meaning: “Wake up and do it for yourself”), which is run by Amava, and in which Nolu is a participant.

Teresa (on the right) at work with the team at Amava Oluntu

Due to the existing connections between the Amava Oluntu team in Muizenberg with the Vukuzenzele-participants in Vrygrond, it became clear immediately when the COVID-19 crisis started that they wanted to work together to do something.

Nolu

Nolu and Asanda, another Vukuzenzele participant, started forming a team of 16 community mobilizers: young people from Vrygrond, who volunteered to help out. They are acting as the eyes, ears and hands of the initiative on the ground, because travel from Muizenberg to Vrygrond is virtually impossible due to lockdown regulations. The initial idea of the team was to distribute food parcels to vulnerable households in Vrygrond. However, it proved tricky to identify who would qualify as ‘vulnerable’ and food parcels are quite costly, meaning they could only serve a limited number of households with the funds available. On top of that, after receiving a food parcel people would still need cash to get electricity or gas to cook with. Nolu explained to me that the biggest argument for soup kitchens currently, is that it is the most efficient way to get food to as many people as possible with the limited funds available. In the soup kitchen economies of scale are at work, and you can get meals to families for very little money.

Image and text by Amava Oluntu

In just two weeks, the team was able to get 8 new kitchens up and running, on top of the existing 12 which were already in the area. The new locations were identified through a rigorous mapping exercise. Each kitchen serves 150–200 people. Food is collected in Muizenberg in bulk, through donations. It is stored in the Blue Bird Garage, which used to be a Friday night community market, but is now closed due to the lockdown. From the Garage, food parcels are delivered to vulnerable households in Muizenberg, and ingredients are taken to Vrygrond, where they are cooked and served.

Mapping with overview of existing and new kitchens — by Amava Oluntu

The reality of operating in these areas under lockdown, is harsh. It is difficult to get government permits for people to be allowed to move. Communication is extremely difficult if you can’t travel, when internet connections are poor, or people don’t have money for airtime. The team of mobilizers also bears a heavy burden, as they also need to take care of themselves and their families. Nolu told me that she already had a salary cut, which leaves her with just enough money to pay her rent — and that’s it. All these emergency-structures rely on a few people now, and they get exhausted from what is virtually non-stop working, whilst being under huge other pressures.

And then there’s the fear of COVID coming to the food kitchens. As Nolu said: “People are more scared of hunger than of the virus. So they will continue to go out.”The Cape Town Together Community Action Network (CAN) organized a learning session between different community initiatives, to share tips and tricks to make the kitchens less of a risk of spreading the virus.

Image and text by Amava Oluntu

Amidst all the challenges and concerns, I found it incredibly inspiring to speak to Nolu and Teresa. Nolu told me when I asked her how she felt about all this: “I’m not going to lie; I’m actually very happy that I’m able to do this. We always had a plan to set up a hub for social justice and community participation in the area. So it is very nice to actually do it right now. I’m also excited about the longer term possibilities. For instance, we are working on helping people to grow their own food in their backyards.”

Teresa also feels deeply grateful. “I think the community building that’s happening now through the CANs between Vrygrond and Muizenberg is amazing, and will last forever. It will offer a lot of opportunities for the future. For me it is very meaningful to feel a connection to the people in Vrygrond. It is weird that we work together but can’t meet face to face. I look forward to one day when it’s possible to have a big party at the beach, where we celebrate our joint achievements. Two neighbourhoods becoming one, in some way.”

On top of the short term emergency support, the team is really excited about the longer term possibilities. A few of the mobilizers in Vrygrond have indicated interest to start their own business. The Muizenberg crew is setting them up with business mentors.

Image and text by Amava Oluntu

Teresa closes off by applauding the CAN movement. “It is amazing. Whatever we can do here, can be carried on to other areas. And vice versa; this morning there was a learning session where people from other areas shared their experiences with food kitchens. The CANs are not just a movement of rich people — it’s really people from all over the city, all areas, working together. The virus as a collective enemy changes the way we work together. The power to beat this virus lies with the people.”

If you would like to support Teresa and Nolu, you can check out the Donations page on the Amava Oluntu website with different funding options. It’s open for international donations. Here’s their Facebook page with regular updates on their work. You can also help them to fundraise, by sharing this story or the website link. If you have specific skills, such as in community- gardening, compost making, or business skill support, you can reach out to Amava Oluntu to offer help.

NB: I unfortunately didn’t get to speak to Theresa Wigley, who is a key driver behind the collaboration between Vrygrond and Muizenberg, and an absolute hero. She’s working non-stop now. She really needs a big applause. So tonight at 8 pm, I’ll clap for her. And for all the other Theresa’s out there.

NB2: Here’s a song which I listened to last night, and really touched me as I’d been working on this story. It feels like the world could do with some girl power right now.

Ok. That’s it for now. Big thanks to Nolu, Theresa and Teresa for sharing their story and their work so openly. And thanks to Zoe for helping me make this story come to life.

Cheers guys, and I hope you all stay well.

(Note: I am writing this on the 23 of April 2020. I am thinking of doing a series on people behind grassroots initiatives during COVID-19 in South Africa. If you know someone who I should talk to, please let me know!)