A protest

So, again, I made the mistake of reading the comments on an article about the service delivery protests in Khayelitsha last week and the week before. Some fool said something to effect of: "I don't understand why they must protest, surely they have toilets in the townships?" Short answer, No, no fool, "they" don't. But you're not getting off the hook with a short answer, nay-nay. Your undercover racist-classist denial deserves a beating. If you choose to ignore reality because living in your make-believe world makes you not such a bad person, then honestly, I have no sympathy for your ignorance.

Months and months ago, almost a year now, some women who live in RR section asked me to investigate why they didn't have flush toilets but their neighbours did. Now, I knew that the sanitation situation was dire, but I was like: hold up, I thought all toilets flushed? Even the dodgy porta potties at music festivals flush. Anyway, I told them I didn't understand their question so they said they would show me. We drive into RR Section along an untarred single lane between shacks and other informal structures. Past women doing washing in big metal buckets. Past men sitting on 20litre paint tins, shooting the breeze. Past kids with sticks, past sleeping dogs. Past the flies that sleep on the sleeping dogs. The lane is so narrow; everyone has to move out of the way of my car as I drive past. 

We get to an open space with a standpipe and three blue portable toilets. Some toilets you can flush, those are closer to the main road, but deeper in, there are just chemical toilets like these. We stand around watching children play in the soggy ground, my friend who is with me shouts at the toddlers to stay away from the toilets. The one woman disappears for a bit and comes back with a mask. She wears it when she goes to the toilet because the smell is so bad and she is worried of getting sick. Mshengu toilet hire come here two or three times a week to clean out the toilets, but these three toilets are used by 200-300 people: all the people in the surrounding shacks. It's not enough.

When we drive out they show me other toilets that have locks on them. My friend asks them why this is and translates for me later the rapid and angry Xhosa that I heard in response. 

"It is so drunk people and children can't get into trouble in the toilet. What happens is that a few shacks will get together and they will have the key and then they can use the toilet. But this is also unfair because sometimes with the toilets that flush, people will just put a lock on them so that only they can use them and not the other people around. This means that those other people also have to walk further and come and use the toilets that are not in their area which makes the problem even worse."

Unfortunately, the situation isn't as straightforward as this even. When I did a walking tour of "problem toilets" in Site B with some city councillors, they explained that the city also gives out padlocks to families so that they will take "ownership" of the toilets and keep them clean and in good working order. They don't give the families cleaning supplies to clean, or tools to fix broken toilets, so I assume they believe in the power of fairy dust...? 

My point is just, to you, the fool who thinks that "they" have toilets: hello yes, welcome, welcome wamkelekile to the real world. Here, in the soiled soil, behind a mask, in front of a padlock and amongst a group of toddlers splashing each other with water so infested with ecoli it is almost impossible that these children do not have diarrhea: I hope you have found your answer.