Durban's Little India

Grey Street lost colour as a landmark.(News)
Article from:
Post (South Africa)
Article date:
March 25, 2009 Copyright informationCOPYRIGHT 2009 Independent News & Media PLC. This material is published under license from the publisher through the Gale Group, Farmington Hills, Michigan. All inquiries regarding rights should be directed to the Gale Group. (Hide copyright information)
IN THE February 15, 1996, issue of POST, political reporter Marlan Padayachee wrote that "Durban's Grey Street, one of South Africa's most colourful landmarks, appeared to be slowly losing its niche market as a 'Little India' under the African sun".
He stated criminal activities, including snatching of gold chains from Indian women, had resulted in a substantial drop in the number of shoppers and tourists visiting the unique street.
He added "the city's world famous 1km stretch of sari and sweetmeat shops, takeaway curry and rice cornershops, tuk-tuks and taxis, cobblers and clothing stores, mosques and temples, was a dividing line where East met West".
Economic ...

They Danced in the Rain for Zuma's Socialist Nirvana

By Marlan Padayachee

HLUHLUWE is an unlikely place to be visiting on Easter Monday.

Hailed as a tourism magnet because it is home to the Big Five wildlife celebrities and the sacred wetlands, morning broke with a cacophony of hustle and bustle in the one-horse town. At the crossroads of this pineapple town, two worlds greet each other locals and visitors eye one another.

A microcosm of our society was coming alive. Whites were busy in their own world, filling up their tanks and stomachs. Blacks were working and others milling around, preparing for the big day in a town where the poor and jobless witness wealth on wheels.

Hauntingly, a picture of the old country began emerging on the grey skyline with rain threatening the day’s spoils of the new country.

Suddenly, the central hub around the petrol station and convenience centre gets busier with SUVs, with caravans and trailers in tow, competing with mini-bus taxis and buses for space.

Over the holy weekend, holidaymakers lapped up the beauty of the Big Five - lion, leopard, buffalo, elephant and rhino and other species of indigenous game, they marveled at the flight of pink flamingoes skimming over the Umfolozi. The day dawned for the homeward-bound trek back to the reality check of life in a rainbow country blurred by a fourth democratic election, shrinking currency, fuel shortage sparked by striking truck drivers and the daily diet and dossier of crime, corruption and poor service delivery.

A hearty American breakfast was in order as waiters rushed around, delivering piping hot plates of bacon, eggs and boerwors and steaming coffee.

The visitors appear to be oblivious of the unfolding drama taking place in the town centre, as if they had just visited another world on the edge of a paradise, a seamless catalogue of the sights and sounds of thousands of hectares of animals and birds.

Here in the heartland of the amaZulu country, traditional home of the descendants of the world’s renowned warrior-king, Shaka, the black townsfolk were preparing for a battle royal of new proportions.

This time there are two bulls in a China shop.

A giant colour poster of the old elephant of the north, Mangosuthu Buthelezi, welcomes people as if the Inkatha Freedom Party leader has just been given the freedom of the town. Elsewhere, there were scatterlings of the ANC’s picture-poster image of the new lion of post-apartheid politics, Jacob Zuma.

Both giants are wrestling for control of KwaZulu Natal. This is the heart of the amaZulu country where the country’s isiZulu-speaking presidential frontrunner is taking on the main opposition in their own battleground.

Hluhluwe was preparing for the Big Man. Thousands of young and old supporters, sporting bright yellow and green “Zuma for President” T-shirts, and waving flags bearing the picture of the cadre-commander who would become South Africa’s next political king, were ferried through the town in buses and mini-buses.

Brand ANC had rolled into town. Four sleek Mini Coopers, branded highly in the green, yellow and black colours of the ruling party, formed the security buffer strip between the proletariat and the political elite.

The spirit of this Easter Monday, unlike the sleepy hollow environment of years gone by, had resurrected a new energy in toy-toying politics. The young outnumbered the old as they jived in the pelting rain, waiting for the Black Jesus to bring them the Promised Land.

With a new burst of hope in their eyes, they danced to a new ritual and renaissance. A messiah was coming to town to bring good tidings for long overdue rural development, jobs and economic spin-offs.

But the crowds waited and waited, investing sweat equity for four hours in the intermittent rain with the only blessing coming from some sunshine.

Hundreds of kilometres away in the Inkatha strongholds of Ingavuma and Jozini, the singing president-in-waiting was winning the hearts and minds of voters to secure the traditional homeland again.

Then a shiny blue bird hovers over the dusty town. The ululating crowds go wild with excitement. To the rhythms of popular lyrics praising the Big Man, the election road show shifts into top gear.

With the electioneering out of the way, the support of the Amakhosi in the bag, the rally is boosted by four female defectors swopping their lackluster IFP T-shirts for the bright green and yellow apparel of the ANC.

A firm presidential pledge to deliver a “Better Life for All” falls far short of their collective expectations.

They had not waited in vain in a day of diabolical climate change to whet their appetites with bread and butter politics. They were waiting for Msholozi’s grandstanding of “Lethu Mshini Wami” (Bring me my machine gun) as he tap-danced his way around the stage to the beat of the homebred hitsong that has become the trademark of his meteoric rise (the fall is history) to African political royalty.

The ANC, more than the emerging opposition coalition bloc, will face the litmus test of delivering a socialist nirvana to the voters after the 22 April poll. Maybe, Christmas may come early to Hluhluwe.

Ends