Living in Kayamandi written by Christine Viviers
Driving in from Route R304 just outside the affluent town named Stellenbosch is my home. My parents made what others would describe as a ludicrous decision when moving to Kayamandi as we became the first white family to live in a black community. When people in South Africa hear I live there they think we’re crazy due to the apartheid regime of the 1950s. At the entrance of Kayamandi there’s a big sign saying ‘Wamkelekile’ which means ‘Welcome’ in isiXhosa.
It is surrounded by an enormous pile of trash stacked high against the hokkies otherwise known as shacks made out of cardboard and wood. Kids play on the dusty broken blue Nissan car to keep them busy. There’s no backyard here, only one big community that smiles upon your arrival as you enter their home. This is the greeting you receive when driving up the steep hill where Kayamandi sits on top of a mountain overlooking Stellenbosch.
When we moved from the rich part of town to the poor part our friends’ parents refused to let them come visit us because of the sweeping rumors made by the government. Kayamandi was painted as a place of danger, lawlessness, rapists, and thieves because the residents were black. This misconception created a lot of division in South Africa. I want to tell you about all the similarities we share as people.
The community laughed when our neighbor Jason farted during prayer and Ouma got angry and said “Sies Jason maniere!” or when our yellow Labrador Zac rolled around in dog turd and the neighbors played in the streets howled “Zac rolled in Po Po!”. We cry because our neighbors get drunk and are unable to feed the kids. We smile because the tapestry of red, pink, and orange sunsets fills our hearts with gratitude every night as it’s what we imagined heaven would look like.
We are all human in Kayamandi, we bleed the same blood and that’s one thing politicians and President F.W De Klerk forgot. I witnessed the beautiful things humans are capable of. The selfless giving of time and money, the joy of sharing, not only a meal; but of your life. I sit on our porch overlooking Kayamandi and Stellenbosch and the sight of the beautiful view filled with shades of blue covering the mountains of Stellenbosch makes me smile. Kayamandi lives up to its isiXhosa name which means “nice home” a place where your feet may leave but your heart never will.
