Gamazine Manufacturing Company Brings Hope To Township Residents Amid Post COVID Unsettled Market

 By Emmanuel Kaitano

In November 2021, Mandla (35) received the sad news that a company he was working for was shutting down because of COVID-19 regulations. Hopelessness overwhelmed him as uncertainty took centre stage.

Having worked for the company for five years, Mandla received a paltry package, which he would rather forget about. The father of three’s troubles mounted as he stared unemployment in the face. In a country where finding a job is like looking for a needle in a haystack, he joined the unemployed. Even his Forklift Operators’ license certificate became a worthless piece of paper. Just like many other certificates or degrees possessed by country folks who are also feeling the full squeeze of the smelting economy.

With his financial situation in shambles, Mandla was left with no option than to move to his Villa Liza township home, in Boksburg.

Luck paid him a visit in 2023, when he was employed and got free training by the Gamazine Excellency factory.

“This factory has changed my life in a big way. I had lost all hope, but now I am happy that I have a job here and l can send my children to school,” said Mandla in an interview.

The factory Director Rudzani Malogwe said,

“As a company, we are happy with this approach, which is certainly bearing fruit. We make sure the community benefit from this initiative.” The director said.

“Economic meltdown is the dominant force behind waves of price hikes that have unsettled consumer markets. Also, the nation is soldiering through one of the toughest phases of a protracted economic crisis, with industries being grounded for hours because of the power crisis.

Magick by Lynette de Coning

With the victory of our Green-and-Gold rugby team still fresh in our minds, we can look at our country and say: Proudly South African. No matter where you live, you stay proud.

Yes, we hear some people complaining again about the holiday not being until December 15th, and about the weather, and load shedding; the complainers will always complain. The fact is that the complainant’s life will never improve.

Every singer and artist who visits our country to entertain us speaks from the same mouth: “South Africans have a ‘magick’. They have something different.’” We live in an incredibly beautiful country. Our people are hospitable and helpful.

Maybe we should focus more on living this ‘something else’, which causes the rest of the world to envy us. Despite the negatives, there are positives. That positive energy of yours will change your life—guaranteed!

Be proud Brakpanner, be proud South African. Stronger together!

I conclude with Dale Carnegie:

“Any fool can criticize, complain, and condemn—and most fools do. But it takes character and self-control to be understanding and forgiving.”

Lynette de Coning, Realtor and author.

The Squatter Camp Animated Chronicles

 Written by Emmanuel Kaitona

It’s a windy morning. Taxi hoots illuminate a gloomy squatter camp so early in the day. Loved aunties, a group of volunteers, under the auspices of Martina Stickling, prepare soup in the kitchen of the Hamilton Street community centre, a distance from this informal settlement. An innocent child, 6-year-old Elijah, sits against the shack walls. Litter scattered around him, showing the neglect and pollution of the environment. “Mama is sick and there is no food,” says the boy to his sister, next to him. “Don’t worry,” she said, “it’s Wednesday, we can go to aunty Tina.” Quick scenes from the previous day could be seen all around him. His mother, the mother of four, was a well-known breadwinner in the neighbourhood. Glimpses of the dark figures who orchestrated her booze as a favour to quench her worries had abused her last night. “Why me Lord, why is my life like this?” was her prayer as she nurses her bruises that morning.

She used to work for a big company before the pandemic. During lockdown, things fell apart and turned to the Hamilton Street shelter for a couple of months. But moved to the squatter camp to be closer to her friends. That is how Elijah got familiar with Soul Outreach Community Upliftment soup kitchen’s schedules. The colour returns, the child rises, determination in his eyes as the thought of aunty Tina and a fresh meal crosses his mind. He prepares for the day, following his routine as his mother instructed him. The clock on the table signals the start of the line of hungry kids. An exodus of young sojourners heading for Soul Outreach Community Upliftment in Hamilton Street for a meal. Crossing the streets and dodging oncoming traffic, they got to their destination.

As Martina Stickling opens the gate and calls, “Food is ready. Kids come in first.” In a second, the yard is full of youngsters, the air thick with anticipation. Elijah, amid other children, with empty lunch boxes, plates and spoons in hand, stands in a single file with confident anticipation. They are not just hungry; they represent the outcomes of a community struck by economic meltdown since the days of COVID-19 lockdown. As the feeding begins, loud music plays from a distance. The shadowy figures present a twisted version of events. We see ghostly images of the real perpetrators, the instigators, in the background. Their smirks and whispers tell of their next conspiracy as they share the green and brown bottles. The unemployed, who gave up trying, tackle their days guzzling from dawn to dusk. All they are left to do now is to let life’s frustrations and trauma pass through a haze of booze. With heavy hearts, they sing the well-known song of Micheal Jackson. Lamenting about work, providing for their families, instead of being on the street. “Heal the world, make it a better place, for you and for me and the entire universe.”

Stomach full, Elijah takes to the streets again. Music welcomes him back into the squatter camp. Facts and evidence appear around him as he walks down the dusty streets. An accurate picture of an abused mother and an absent father figure. Highlighting the cruel irony of being neglected by those who should be their stronghold. “We need more donations, not only food but clothes and blankets. Also, a safe home for the abused kids.” This has been Stickling’s anthem for years. Aunty Tina, as she is known by the children in her area, sweats as the gravity of the burden bears down on her. Scenes flash through her mind’s eye. The reality of the injustice, the neglect and abuse and the empty faces of the children whose youth have been stolen. The spoon in her hand feels heavier as each child’s story is unearthed. “The thing is,” she told herself, “l cannot give up on my community. They need me. This is my calling.” Time slows down as she went to the office of the social workers. With a strike that echoes, she demands justice for the child, calling for social workers’ investigation into the perpetrators. 

“Enough is enough. Something needs to be done for this child,” she said to other volunteers at the centre. When the intervention of the authorities finally came, the community erupts in animated cheers as a smiling Elijah, mother and sister, steps out into the sunlight. The horizon promising a new chapter in their lives.

“Thank you, aunty Tina.” Elijah said, as they cross the doorpost at the centre. “As I feed the children, a thousand stories are told,” she repeated with a heavy sigh. “Be part of your community!” Tina says to everyone who cares to listen. The soft sound of rain signifies the cleansing and hope of the day as Elijah and his family unpacked their belongings for this new phase.

Set an Example by W/O Dewald de Coning

Brakpan’s Community Street Shower should fill all of us with hope for the future. This recent event afforded the downtrodden in our community with an opportunity to experience a few luxuries so many of us accept as patently obvious.

As a police officer, I frequent communities inundated by violent crime and social neglect. Communities that—one gets the feeling—has been “forgotten” by the very institutions and powers tasked with the responsibility to look out for them. Communities and people, the more affluent parts of our communities, would rather forget about. I’m reminded of times when young children run up to us as police officers, waving their school report cards at us with elation. All for just a little bit of recognition and motivation, as there is very likely little of that at home. Obviously, it is the responsibility of the police to protect every single South African citizen in equal measure, without favouritism regarding social standing. But when I don the uniform, I am especially mindful of the less privilege that I do so. Affluent communities can afford private security, but for the downtrodden we are very often the only line of defense. The example we as police officials set for those little ones with their report cards will in all likelihood determine whether we face the same social ills in a future generation or not. 

 Warrant Officer Dewald de Coning

Plastic City and the growing health problems.

Written by Lynelle Clark

During the Interview by Maroela Media, a few facts came to light, highlighting the growing problem in Anzac.

Early morning sounds fills the air as people stand up and get ready for the day. Business owners sweep the sidewalk and arrange their products ready to make a sale.

This is a typical scene of any town. The only difference is that this scene plays off in Plastic City. While fires burn and smoke covers the air, I cannot help but have mixed emotions of the “normal” scene that has become a growing menace in the main entrance of our town.

Amid the poverty, neglect and filth, people survive. On the one hand, I admire the tenacity of those who are building something upon the growing heaps of rubbish. On the other hand, they are a worry. So, what will happen to this city?

This is just one of the many questions raised during the interview by Janice du Plessis accompanied by Pieter Cloete, from Maroela Media on 3 November 2023.

What was heartbreaking was the fact that we were just five concerned citizens that pitched up that day, me included. Which emphasised the fact that we sit with many complainers in Brakpan and only a handful of solution solvers.

Some concerns that were raised by the interviewees were:

· Health deterioration.

· Illegal mining.

· Growing number of illegal immigrants.

· The Illegal sale of booze.

· Illegal shops

· Illegal dumping

· The growing number of illegal electric connections

· No health regulations are applied.

· Constant burning of rubbish.

· Constant Acid smell is released from burning.

· Loud music till early morning hours.

· Authorities can’t be reached.

· Unsafe environment

· Loss of income.

Samantha Labuschagne, owner of Medley House, lives in Anzac and has her own health problems. She is concerned about her employees’ health and the decline of her business, a popular venue in Brakpan. Smoke inhalation has become worrisome, and she must use an asthma pump to make it easier just to breathe. The black smoke makes it unlivable, and open windows are not an option. Her Snow-White cats are always filthy.

Even newborns in the area struggle to breathe, pensioners are stuck in their homes because of the unsafe environment and their health problems.

When asked why do they burn the plastic? Drummond Doig, AfriForum Brakpan Vice Chair, replied that it is the only way the squatters can control the influx of rubbish. All rubbish is dumped in Plastic City because of Weltenvreden’s Dumpsite limited intake. What the squatters cannot recycle, they burn to make way for the next wave.

It has become an eyesore within the entrance of Brakpan. The authorities don’t assist with the Illegal elements. Trolleys full of booze are carried to the shebeens and sold without licenses. Tuck shops are rising. No matter how many times they tried to contact the authorities, the resolve is always the same. NO RESPONSE.

People’s life investments have been reduced and nothing is done to safeguard, and many are stuck in a situation that they cannot get out of.

Because of the smoke, it creates problems when the AfriForum task force must go in, making visibility a problem. Many children are run over. “Risks are immense,” says Drummond Doig.

Pieter Celliers, Brakpan’s branch manager for AfriForum, confirms Drummond’s statements. Brakpan is no longer a municipal problem but a national problem which needs to be addressed urgently. He added that the medical profession doesn’t want to get involved or refuse to comment about the many rising health problems. He stated that there are big corporations funding the operational side of the squatter camp. They make money out of this state but do not plough it back into Brakpan.

This affects everything in Brakpan. Even our water resources are becoming problematic because of all the refuge that filters into it, Mr Celliers stated. 

William Douglas, a longstanding citizen, was heading up the Town committee but never received the backing from the citizens to make a significant difference. Since 2009, he has brought it to the authorities’ attention, but nothing has been done. The only excuse he received from the municipality was that there was no budget.

What was clear about all of this is that the powers to be show no interest and that laws did not apply to Plastic City.

So, where do we begin?

I almost want to say it is logical: Ban all plastic products from Brakpan but it will not solve the problem entirely.

But the first step is to lessen the rubbish. When there is no rubbish, Plastic City will have no feeder. Don’t add to the problem, reduce it.

Next time when the packers put your purchases into plastic bags, stop them. Make use of reusable or recycled bags. Minimise rubbish.

The only reason Plastic City exists is because of us. As long as we fuel the rubbish, they will stay.

The next step is to get the municipality involved. They must be held accountabile.