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townships

SIMONSTOWN, FALSE BAY, SOUTH AFRICA

Where the dual carriageway to Simonstown

is nearest the bay some cars were parked

on the hard shoulder and some folk were standing

on the stony beach. A Southern Right Whale

had calved near the shallows. We stood with strangers,

in the silence, watching the suckling baby

and the mother in their huge gentleness.

 

False Bay is wide as a sea, as deep,

so-called because sailors without charts

thought it was Table Bay twenty miles west.

Simonstown was one of the last to accede

to Apartheid. A colonial port,

way station to the East, British dockyard,

it became a diverse place of Dutchmen

and Lascars, Jews and Muslims, entrepreneurs

and runaways, Xhosa guides, and Khoisan

strayed the few miles from the heather of the Cape.

 

Opposite our guesthouse was a cove where whales,

at the end of the breeding season, came,

like ships of the line, to scrape off barnacles,

before their journey to the sounding oceans.

 

As we left town we passed the main car park,

and, at its edge, eight young men in white

and navy blue from Khayelitsha township

singing a capella: ‘Nkosi

sikelel’ iAfrika’.

 

 

OTHER PEOPLE’S FLOWERS Sizwe Vilakazi: Writer & Performer

David Selzer By David Selzer5 Comments4 min read1.8K views

In 2003 I joined Vulavulani Theatre Company (based in Soweto, South Africa) in my early 20’s after an extensive engagement in community theatre, which was largely protest in its nature. They were doing their second co-production with Action Transport Theatre Company (based in Ellesmere Port, UK) – http://www.actiontransporttheatre.org/. That is when I met David Selzer. He was part of the Board at the time. I worked as an actor on two productions that introduced me to the idea of making theatre for children and young people.

A few years later, when I was given an opportunity to work as a writer for Action Transport, David became a huge support for me because we share a common love for writing and literature. He loved the ‘chalk poem’ I wrote in my teens and that was eventually included in my one man show TIKA:

The rising roar from your screeching sound reveals the dark.
Your every day sacrifice from your powder is much better than gunpowder.
Every day I long for your sound to expand my horizons.

TIKA is a contemporary township piece that is designed to give hope to the youth about their future and also to create a theatre piece that will reflect a changing society in the fairly new democracy of post-apartheid South Africa. Tika is young boy who lives in a township shack alone.  He has no source of income.  That creates a struggle for him through school until he finishes matric.  The challenge begins when he is out of school because all the support systems fall off and survival becomes a daily struggle for him.  All this turns him into a criminal.  The play is about him, the challenges he goes through and the choices he makes – see https://www.sylviaselzer.com/2014/06/07/tika/.

David also appreciated the many other poems and plays I wrote for myself as a way of documenting what I was going through at the time.

When I travelled to the UK for the first time I brought my book full of handwritten poems, most written in my teen years. I think that was when David  got to familiarise himself with my work. When Action Transport visited Soweto they came to watch the show which I had developed together with a group of young people I worked with. We called ourselves Renaissance Theatre and the name of the show we created was RENAISSANCE, a play about the Atlantic Slave Trade.

For over seven years we exchanged both artistic and cultural experiences by traveling between the United Kingdom and South Africa, and David has been a valuable mentor and life coach. We are still pen pals even long after my contract with Action Transport Theatre is over. We still find time to talk on social media and to me he is like a sweet fountain of refreshing knowledge that I, from time to time, draw inspiration from. He is affectionately known only to me as Mkhulu (grandfather in Zulu).

Here are four more poems:

I am an actor/writer/clown/workshop/play enthusiast/facilitator based in Soweto. I use my work as an artist to advance social work in and around my community. I began my work as an actor doing community protest theatre during the late 1990’s when south Africa was in transition towards a democratic dispensation. After joining the Soweto-based Vulavulani Theatre Company I changed direction from protest into a more children-based theatre, touring work to schools (mostly supported financially and professionally by Action Transport based in the UK), day care centres and theatres across South Africa and other countries.

In 2005 I started Lets Play children’s theatre and also founded Renaissance Theatre for young people in Soweto, which gave birth to a young writers’ forum to instil the love of writing in young people. I have written many plays for youth including my one man show TIKA, which was developed and performed both in South Africa and the UK. I continue to work in South Africa as an actor and writer. My love for history and information is what drives my passion to write.

I also facilitate arts-in-education workshops working with ASSITEJ South Africa – https://assitej.org.za/. I work as a story teller for various children’s institutions, museums and schools. Four years ago I was trained  by DR HEARTBEAT as a part time clown and puppeteer for children on the oncology wards in Johannesburg hospital. I have recently joined Sounds Of Azania, an online radio show, as a talk show presenter because I always have a lot to say – https://soundsofazania.com/

 

©Sizwe Vilakazi 2022

 
 

THE MUSEUMS

David Selzer By David Selzer3 Comments1 min read1.9K views

For Sizwe Vilakazi

 

ROBBEN ISLAND, CAPE TOWN

 

Except when the Atlantic fog surprises,

from high ground in the city the island

is present like a leviathan,

its lights at night like white phosphorous,

a place of banishment since the first ships,

among seals and penguins.

 

DISTRICT SIX, CAPE TOWN

 

Razing its streets, clearing this cosmopolis

of Asians, atheists, Blacks, booksellers,

Buddhists, Christians, Coloureds, cooks, Hindus, Jews,

musicians, Muslims, seafarers, Whites,

this is what it was all about – the racial

myths, the scorn, the humiliation,

the torture, the killings – to justify

the theft of property.

 

APARTHEID, FREEDOM PARK, JOHANNESBURG

 

Beneath the Pillars of the Constitution,

in the gardens the weaver birds are knitting

their elaborate nests from grass and reeds

precariously over water.

 

Inside is the Mercedes workers hand built

for Mandela, and a BAE designed

troop-carrying Casspir, mine and bullet proof,

to patrol the townships.

 

HECTOR PIETERSON, ORLANDO WEST, SOWETO

 

When the school children took to the dirt streets

in their uniforms and walked as one

towards the dogs and the guns and the police,

did each of their rulers secretly know

they were finished – not then or that year

but in time however many they maimed,

and killed and tortured in front of cameras –

yet kept it to themselves? Did they believe

really that righteous anger would, could

be suppressed forever?

 

 

 

SEAFORTH BEACH, SIMONSTOWN, 2009

‘The essential characteristic of a nation is that all its individuals must have many things in common – and must have forgotten many things as well.’ What is a Nation? Ernest Renan

 

Near the restaurant’s toilets, there was a large

framed print of a photograph of the beach

full of day trippers from Cape Town by train

one Christmas/New Year break in the ’50s –

when it was Slegs Blankes/Whites Only.

The restaurant’s customers were still white,

the staff black – by Toyota taxis daily

from the townships. On the beach, that windy

September day, African Penguins –

erstwhile ‘Jackass’ – were braying at the surf.

A Southern Whale and its young rose close

inshore and blew… From the bedroom window

of our three star guest house we could see,

in the moonlight, a young black man lay down

to sleep on the grassy bank near the sea’s edge.

In the morning he had gone. A submarine

sailed from the naval base, sounding its horn.

We watched a mist roiling slowly towards us

and the dark kelp bobbing.

 

 

 

KLIPTOWN, SOWETO – APRIL 2010

David Selzer By David Selzer1 Comment1 min read2.2K views

Thunder wakes me, rolling over the townships,

then the suburbs south of the city, and eastward over the veldt.

 

Heavy rain falls suddenly, bouncing off the vehicles

in the secured, hotel car park.

 

The Klipspruit, which flows passed the vast,

abandoned gold reefs, will have risen, inundating

the shacklands, their improvised shanties,

dirt streets and hard won gardens –

and I think of the rain falling on the newly paved

Walter Sisulu (erstwhile Freedom) Square,

the other side of the railway tracks.

 

Standing on the footbridge yesterday,

I could hear the distant call to prayer from Lenasia

on the higher ground beyond the river.

A flock of Brown Ibis flew over –

their rasping cries, loud, unsettling.

 

A long, yellow commuter train left the station,

moving slowly under the bridge. After it,

two people crossed the rails from the old street market

to the ‘informal settlement’ – a middle aged woman

in traditional township dress and a teenage girl

pristine in her Jozi school uniform.

 

Thunder wakes me – a low, loud, prolonged

concatenation, explosions like blastings,

the clangour of wagons shunted,

reverberating…

 

 

 

Note: first published in ‘A Jar of Sticklebacks’ – http://armadillocentral.com/armadillo-central/a-jar-of-sticklebacks-david-selzer.