The upper reaches of the river were canalised at a time when storm water runoff was seen as an irritation rather than an asset. Although local problems were addressed by the canalisation, the result has been to transfer the problems further downstream. The momentum and force of a canalised stream together with the increased runoff from the city has created treacherous floodwaters and severe soil erosion.
The ecology of the valley that the river flows through has been radically undermined by the impact of urban development. “Deeply eroded, unstable banks, created by high volumes of high velocity storm water runoff, characterize much of the course downstream.” (Johannesburg City Council,1986. The Mervyn King Ridge Trail).
Historical perceptions of water as a means of getting rid of waste play themselves out in the day-to-day experience of Edmond Thokozani Sibisi (Thokozani), who claims descendence from the famous chief, Bambatha. His job is to monitor and clear the waste in a section of the Jukskei on the east side of Bezuidenhout Park (historically a section of Doornfontein farmland).
Chief Bambatha (at the back) |
In 1976, Thokozani came to Johannesburg to look for work for the first time. He was employed by a removal company and then as a security guard before giving up hope of sustaining himself in Jo'burg.
After a series of dreams filled with symbols and myths and the whispered utterances of ancestors, and finally a dream involving a struggle underwater with a gigantic serpent, he responded to a calling to become a sangoma and went to Kwambulinga in KZN for training. But shortly after the training began, Thokozani’s trainer demanded R 22,000. He said, “I can’t do that. I am still suffering.” The trainer said, “If you haven’t got money to pay, it is better if you go and find work and if you find money, come back to continue.”
So he came back to Johannesburg and as it turned out, he found the people in his dream repairing a fence in Bezuidenhout Park and they offered him a job. A man called Ian Dirk was busy cleaning the river and he said, “Come with me. I have got the money to pay you.”
Initially he was taught how to restore the workshop that contains the tools and given a caravan to live in. This was in 2004. “I was watching the place, stopping the people who came to steal. My God helped me to stop those people who came to steal”, he says. That was in 2005.
“Then I was asked to help to reprieve this thing…It is a water litter trap”, he says. A “two hole system” has been constructed to “trap” everything flowing down the Jukskei, including a car, aborted foetuses and even a dead man and a dead baby: “It was a man of age between 38-45…I was crying because it was the first time to see a dead man here…Then there was one small baby. It was a baby that was born but they take out all those eyes… It’s the mother’s people, they do this thing,” he says.
Thokozani lives alone in a converted container in small section of Bezuidenhout Park near to Bruma Lake, protected by a dog called Minibus. He grows all his own vegetables but there is theft. “It is the community... because there is no fence, they come and take everything without asking….”
He has two assistants to help him to clear the waste blocked by the mechanical trap. “We’ve got forks and spades and we load into that big skip, and when it’s full I call the ‘West Giant’ to come and get it".
The daily challenges take their toll. “We find trees and building construction rubbish, and some people make their shit in there. I don’t know if there is no toilet where they stay… Please the people must be stopped to do this. They must keep clean the Bez Valley. Especially that abortion… Tell those people to stop making abortion and throwing those dead babies in the water…Please!”