The historic Vilakazi Street in South Africa is now eerily quiet. With the lockdown, small entrepreneurs here like Sifiso Moyo are pondering new ways to resuscitate life into the precinct.



Sifiso Moyo is the co-founder of The Box Shop in one of South Africa’s most historic tourist hubs.



The lifestyle and retail outlet he founded with his business partner, Bernard Msimango, is on Vilakazi Street, known for being the only street that has famously housed two Nobel Peace Prize winners, Nelson Mandela and Archbishop Desmond Tutu, in South Africa’s township of Soweto in Johannesburg.



Even before South Africa’s president Cyril Ramaphosa announced the national lockdown from March 27, Moyo says he had been seeing dwindling visitors to the street and The Box Shop.



South Africa had confirmed its first Covid-19 case on March 5.&nbsp;



“The street is literally on lockdown. All businesses, especially formal establishments, have ceased operations, however, businesses that will survive on Vilakazi Street post the pandemic are those that didn’t invest [much] in attracting and appealing to international tourists,” says Moyo.



The Box Shop will need to start dropping prices, he adds, to attract more locals to the outlet.



“We need to position the street as a destination that is futuristic, cutting-edge and tourism-friendly, especially to the locals. So we are strategizing, decreasing our prices, marketing ourselves aggressively to the locals and addressing ourselves as a destination of choice.”



Moyo predicts it will take four months for global tourism to return to normal, but will South Africa be one of the preferred destinations?



“We at The Box Shop and some operations on Vilakazi have positioned ourselves so well that we appeal to the locals too, but looking at the economic impact of the virus, we have less cash circulating in the market and that affects all of us. So as a precinct, we have to start thinking differently,” he says.



The Box Shop has taken the lead in integrating technology into its operations, developing an app for the upcoming Youth Day; a South African public holiday in June. The app shares the Vilakazi Street experience and allows people to book tables and make advance payments for the event.



All this, only if the coronavirus has been brought under control by then.



For the period of the lockdown, the shop is not trading, and Moyo says they too are applying for a relief fund from the government.&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;



“We are feeling the effects, we really need subsidy from government, otherwise there is a threat that the entire precinct might shut down and it will need to be resuscitated and re-established which will mean all the 20 years of effort that has been put in to develop the street will go down the drain,” he laments.



For now, responding to the situation using technology and some clever marketing seems to be the only way forward for most small businesses like The Box Shop.

Founders of The Box Shop Bernard Msimango and Sifiso Moyo; pic supplied

A Famous Street Falls Silent: Luring Locals Only Way After The Lockdown

Tourists in Soweto, the township southwest of Johannesburg in South Africa, now have more options for staying in the same neighbourhood that was once home to two Nobel laureates, Nelson Mandela and Archbishop Desmond Tutu.
Here, through accommodation app Airbnb, locals are increasingly turning entrepreneurs throwing open their homes for visitors wanting to savor Kasi life. As many as 20 Soweto homes are listed hosts on the Airbnb search engine – and the list is growing.
Take Nelson Tiko Mashele, a 33-year-old born and bred in Soweto, who founded Vilakazi Backpackers on the famous Orlando West street with his father, and which is located five minutes from the homes of Mandela and Tutu, and 10 minutes from the Hector Pieterson memorial.
Mashele is one of the youngest Airbnb hosts in Soweto, and his establishment one of the newest in the area. He says 70% of his guests are locals, the rest international, and business is looking good.
<a href="http://www.forbesafrica.com/woman/2017/10/06/sharing-economy-400000-guests-home/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">READ MORE: The Sharing Economy: 400,000 Guests At Home</a>
The day we visit, we are ushered into his spotless living room. A coffee table in the middle of the foyer is laden with sightseeing pamphlets. Hip hop music is playing in the background. The seven-bedroom house is well-appointed and Mashele charges R299 ($25) a night.
<div id="attachment_35881" style="width: 1034px" class="wp-caption aligncenter"><img loading="lazy" decoding="async" aria-describedby="caption-attachment-35881" class="wp-image-35881 size-large" src="https://www.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/04/rooom-1024x681.jpg" alt="" width="1024" height="681" srcset="https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/04/rooom-1024x681.jpg 1024w, https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/04/rooom-300x199.jpg 300w, https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/04/rooom-600x399.jpg 600w, https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/04/rooom-768x510.jpg 768w, https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/04/rooom.jpg 2048w" sizes="auto, (max-width: 1024px) 100vw, 1024px" />A room at the Vilakazi Backpackers costs R299 ($25) a night. Photo by Karen Mwendera.</div>
That’s not a bad bargain for the local life that his guests, who he says are mostly from America, Germany, Brazil and France, want to experience.
According to Airbnb, most guests choose to live like locals. Mashele says they would rather walk to tourist destinations and buy local food from the outlets on the famous Vilakazi Street.
One of Mashele’s partners is Soweto Outdoor Adventures run by Kgomotso Pooe, also his long-time friend. Their collaborations offer his guests quad-bike tours, paddling and boating rides, trips to Orlando Towers and indulging in local cuisine such as magwenyas (deep-fried dough balls) with atchar and white liver and kota (half loaf of bread filled with curry), ending the day with a shisanyama (meat cooked over an open fire).
On the opposite side, in Orlando East, is a bed-and-breakfast in operation for over 16 years. TDJ’s BnB is a home-owned business catering for local and international visitors. Their aim this year is to start using the Airbnb services to help increase their profits.
“We are looking forward to getting new guests from all over the world,” says TDJ’s manager Nomthandazo Ntshingila.
<a href="http://www.forbesafrica.com/sometime-in-africa/2012/08/01/staying-in-hotels/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">READ MORE: Staying In Hotels</a>
She says joining Airbnb will give her an edge moving her numbers higher than the average 30 visitors she receives per month. Currently, a room at TDJ’s costs R454 ($38) a night.
For a more authentic experience, tourists can taste African beer brewed at the guest house. Another hotspot guests can visit is Sakhumzi, a Sowetan shisanyama restaurant and bar.
A key difference between Mashele’s and Ntshingila’s businesses is that the former has Wi-Fi on site allowing him to stay active on social media.
“One of the requirements to host with Airbnb was to offer Wi-Fi services to potential clients. We then got Wi-Fi before listing on the app,” says Ntshingila.
Hosts need to be constantly connected to an online platform and keep the most updated information on their availability and business.
The accommodation hosting platform tells FORBES AFRICA they are working on refining their offerings and making “regular updates to ensure people get exactly what they are looking for”. It’s clear that for the app to take off in townships like Soweto, homeowners need to be empowered with technology.
Airbnb says it’s planning to invest $1 million from 2018 to 2020 to promote and support community-led tourism projects in Africa. The project aims to support training in hospitality and technology for township residents.
Indeed, such investments will also help upskill those living in less-developed areas within Soweto such as Kliptown and Pimville, and as a result, reduce the barriers for entrepreneurs wishing to rent out their homes and bring in precious tourism dollars, much-needed in today’s difficult times.

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Living Like Mandela

It’s a busy Thursday morning in South Africa’s famous Vilakazi Street, in Orlando West, in Soweto with tourists roaming about. This street was not only home to two Nobel Peace Prize winners, Nelson Mandela and Archbishop Desmond Tutu, but also legendary musician Sipho ‘Hotstix’ Mabuse.
On this day, at a wine bar, Mabuse leans on the table to make his point. He feels up-and-coming musicians should be wary of exploitation.
“If one is not stable then you lose your mind and values. When you’re young, starry-eyed and ignorant you get so exploited by promoters, record companies; everyone takes advantage of your naiveties. If you don’t have resilience you end up an alcoholic or a drug addict just to numb the pain of what the industry can inflict,” he says.
Mabuse started playing the drums at the age of eight, an instrument that he would master so well that a fellow band member, Condry Ziqubu, gave him the nickname ‘Hotstix’.
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His journey began 50 years ago, when he formed a band, The Beaters, at high school in Soweto.
“We were adored by the media and everyone. The Beaters became popular among the students in universities and high schools. We toured to neighboring countries like Botswana, Lesotho and Namibia.”
In the 1970s, they visited Zimbabwe as an Afro-funk group and named themselves in honor of the future name of the capital city.
“Zimbabwe was known as Rhodesia back then; we were influenced by the grounds of black consciousness. We were conscious of our surroundings and interacting with the struggle itself. It was imperative for us to change the name to Harari.”
In 1982, the band split. A devastating moment for Mabuse. He likened the split to a beautiful marriage that suddenly crumbles.
“I had put so much energy, love and commitment in the band. I felt like all my efforts were in vain.”
Mabuse launched his solo career and produced the hits Jive Soweto, Rise and Set Me Free. His funky township disco-jive jam, Burnout sold 500,000 records.
“A band member passed away while we were in Harare. Before his death, I made a promise to him that because he made fire when the cold wind was blowing I’ll keep the fire burning. One of the things I did was to go to studio and record a song Set Me Free. I don’t know if it was somewhat a paradox that was I refereeing to the split itself or allowing myself to go solo,” he says.
Staying on top is hard.
“To stay relevant, one has to be inventive. My music evolves with my age. I performed at some event recently and I was amazed at the response. When I started playing, the response was just overwhelming. I get goosebumps because I didn’t imagine that people would still remember the music I did 40 years ago. After I performed they kept asking for more,” says Mabuse.
“Music has provided me with things that I never imagined I could have. I managed to build homes, raise my children, and travel the world. If it wasn’t for music I wouldn’t have had the privilege of meeting the late Nelson Mandela or Bill Clinton.”
All of this didn’t come easy. For black musicians under apartheid, performing was a struggle.
“It was difficult to make music freely. I remember we were performing with Percy Sledge, an American artist. Black musicians were curtain-raisers and we couldn’t play in certain white venues so that white people could not see us. If we were found in town after 12AM, we had to state why we were there. If we say we’re a band, they’d ask what is a band? For them, black musicians were nothing but vagrants.”
With fluctuating royalties, Mabuse says it’s difficult to save money.
“The music industry is fickle. We don’t get jobs that continuously pay us. It’s important for us when we get money to plan around it but we cannot have a saving plan. Sometimes musicians stay for two to three years without getting royalties.”
According to the 66-year-old Mabuse, a retirement annuity is a must.
“People don’t understand how important it is. If I knew what I know now about money 40 years ago, I probably would have been a billionaire.”
Mabuse and his band members dropped out of school in Grade 11, for music. He says fame made them lose focus.
“In high school we dropped out without realizing it. The pressure was too much, so was the music, the money and women,” he says.
In 2012, at the age of 60, Mabuse joined an adult basic education training program at a school in Klipspruit, Soweto, to get his matric.
“Now that I’m older and wiser I know that education is powerful. I am grateful that I was able to get education, otherwise I would not be getting royalties because I wouldn’t have the knowledge of what music means in terms of financial and economic gains. I still get royalties for all the music I released,” he says.
He recently produced a documentary about his song Jive Soweto for the BBC. He also plans to study anthropology at a university away from home.
For musicians, maybe it’s better to remember his parting words rather than his songs.
“If they do not have expertise, it’s better to invest with those that have expertise. First of all, find a good lawyer, manager and pay them. If you don’t have money, get them into some kind of a deal because then you will be protecting yourself for a lifetime. Stay focused and don’t believe the hype.”
Maybe young musicians should print out these words and put them on the wall.

Don’t be Starry-Eyed And Ignorant

It’s a Thursday afternoon in November, with the summer sun baking the pavements, and everything in sight. Being a weekday, South Africa’s famous Vilakazi Street, home to two Nobel Peace Prize laureates, in Orlando West, in the historic township of Soweto, is not too busy – there are fewer tourists compared to the usual.
I am looking down the linear street, no more than a kilometer, filled with history, craft and commerce, not to mention an assortment of tourists.
It’s a far cry from the street it was in the apartheid days, days before its most-famous resident, Nelson Mandela, was whisked off to prison for 27 years. His home here, number 8115 or Mandela House, which he said is marked with an ‘X’ in his mental geography, is a museum now, the street’s biggest draw. Mandela had returned to this house when he was released from prison in 1990.
Vilakazi’s other famous resident was Archbishop Desmond Tutu, the Nobel prize-winning social rights activist who also opposed apartheid.
I strap the camera around my neck, put on my sunglasses and become a tourist, walking from one end to the other exploring the street; it almost feels like I am not in Soweto, this is one of Africa’s world-renowned pieces of real estate.
It takes me less than a minute before I see an urban building to my left, The Box Shop, a shop created primarily for locals but with international tourists streaming in and out.
Launched as a fashion store in 2015 employing about 11 staff, it has extended its retail offerings to furniture and food – mouth-watering delicacies such as mogodu (lamb or beef tripe).
Sifiso Moyo, marketing director of The Box Shop, is one of the store’s four founders who decided to open the store on Vilakazi Street.
“It was a combination of things that made us pursue Vilakazi, we looked at the Gauteng government mandate in terms of revitalizing townships, so we looked at how we are going to align ourselves with that strategy and contribute positively to the dream of township revitalization,” says Moyo.
<img loading="lazy" decoding="async" class="alignnone wp-image-32129 size-large" src="http://www.forbesafrica.com/app/uploads/2017/05/Vilakazi-Str-065-1024x681.jpg" alt="" width="1024" height="681" srcset="https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/Vilakazi-Str-065.jpg 1024w, https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/Vilakazi-Str-065-300x200.jpg 300w, https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/Vilakazi-Str-065-600x399.jpg 600w, https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/Vilakazi-Str-065-768x511.jpg 768w" sizes="auto, (max-width: 1024px) 100vw, 1024px" />
I walk again for three minutes, and stop, as I see a gentleman with a snake around his neck. I step closer to make sure I am not imagining things.
It is a snake, a real one, a Red Tail Boa. After introducing myself to the gentleman, he directs me to the house to meet his mother, Lindiwe Mngomezulu.
Her business is offering tourists the Soweto Live Snakes Show. The inspiration for it came when she joined a snake club in Edenvale, east of Johannesburg, South Africa.
Her daughter, Lwandle, had forced her mother to part with R5 to see snakes at the Soweto Arts Festival. Curious, Mngomezulu asked how they could join the club. They were told to visit on Saturdays.
“Love. I wouldn’t have them [the snakes] without love. But the business started when my daughter was seven years old, when she first held a snake. As a mother, I gave her support; wherever she wanted to go where there was snakes, I took her, only to find that I have an interest too,” says Mngomezulu.
I am speaking to Mngomezulu in her living room, which is almost like a mini-zoo – to my right is a monkey, behind me, a parrot, and next to her, a hedgehog. I am a little uneasy knowing there are pythons in the next room, which was once one of the bedrooms in the small home.
The mother and daughter started volunteering at the snake club cleaning the enclosures of 300 reptiles including crocodiles; shortly after, by 2009, they were bringing snakes to the township for snake shows, so it could generate revenue for them. At first, business wasn’t good because they didn’t know how to charge, but worst of all, the community was not in agreement with the idea of snakes in their township as they thought the mother-daughter duo were practicing witchcraft.
“The entrance fee was R5, we didn’t know what we were doing, and people were scared,” says Mngomezulu.
Not long after, Mngomezulu bought her daughter her first pet, a Corn snake, and called it Pikinini because it was small. But the fact remained; they were not making money and had to return the borrowed snakes to the club.
That was when Mngomezulu decided to buy her own snakes to start her own mini snake park. After the Corn snake, it was twin pythons and a boa.
During the 2010 World Cup in South Africa, Mngomezulu went back to the club and borrowed snakes for a show in Soweto, the day of the final game, which drew visitors from all over the world. This time, she made wads of cash, enough to share with the club.
Sadly, in 2013, three of Mngomezulu’s snakes died because of pneumonia. Her four-roomed house in Vilakazi Street wasn’t warm enough for the snakes.
Today, thankfully, business is okay, and Mngomezulu can more than afford a loaf of bread. She is now extending her house to accommodate more snakes and tourists. The entrance fee is worth it. People come in to touch the snakes and pose with them for photos.
“Our show is not just a show, it’s an educational show, we educate you about the snakes we have, because I take care of them, we grow them, train them. They are used to cameras, noise and people,” says Mngomezulu.
Not only does she make money on Vilakazi Street, she also has her snakes starring in films and the small screen, namely a South African TV show shot in 2015 titled Ngempela.
Although her show also includes her other pets: a monkey, parrot, bearded dragon lizard, hedgehog and a yellow anaconda, Mngomezulu says the fear of snakes can drive people away.
“When one stands at the gate and fears going in, others get scared too,” she says. The tour guides are also an issue; they don’t spend time at the Soweto Live Snakes Show which affects her business.
I don’t get to watch the show, so I move on to the house next door, a space selling art.
<img loading="lazy" decoding="async" class="alignnone wp-image-32130 size-large" src="http://www.forbesafrica.com/app/uploads/2017/05/Vilakazi-045-1024x681.jpg" alt="" width="1024" height="681" srcset="https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/Vilakazi-045.jpg 1024w, https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/Vilakazi-045-300x200.jpg 300w, https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/Vilakazi-045-600x399.jpg 600w, https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/Vilakazi-045-768x511.jpg 768w" sizes="auto, (max-width: 1024px) 100vw, 1024px" />
Thamaga Montjane is CEO of JHTCE (Joining Hands To Create Employment). He says the challenges he faces are people going only to one end of Vilakazi Street and not going further up – to this spot where his shop is.
I can relate to it. As I was walking towards Mandela House, I could see more action – more cars, more color, more tourists thronging the stalls there – than here, by Montjane’s shop.
I speak to one of the vendors a few feet from Mandela House. Bongane Ngcobo sells t-shirts, caps and African art. An entrepreneur in his own right, he says he makes about R4,000 ($282) on a good day and about R200 ($14) when it’s not so good.
As I stroll further down, the street is getting busier. I am drawn to a group of idling youngsters outside an art gallery named Shova Lifestyle Origin.
Thabo Modise, the owner here, started off selling t-shirts in the streets of Soweto; now he owns the gallery and the boutique next to it.
“It is a lifestyle boutique, where we have local fashion designers showing their work and we have a gallery for locals to do the same,” says Modise. He is an entrepreneurial success on Vilakazi Street.
The ambience of the street gets more vibrant as the afternoon progresses. I go across the road from the gallery, to Sakhumzi; a popular restaurant in Soweto, right next door to Tutu’s house. I step in to speak to a few tourists gulping down drinks and South African food.
“It feels awesome being here, we went to the Mandela museum and it was great, proper energy, real place,” says Tavis Wright, a tourist from England.
Lorenzo Grifantini, a tourist from Italy, says there is life and movement in the street and the people look happy.
Not too far from where I am seated at the restaurant, I spot more tourists savoring the local food.
“I didn’t expect a vibrant and classy restaurant like this here, I’m really surprised and I’m loving the food. I had tripe, it was very delicious,” says Adrian Seigs, also a tourist from Europe.
At the end of Vilakazi Street is Kwa Lichaba, a busy car wash corner on the opposite side.
Eventually, what was meant to be a 10-minute walk for me with my camera, turned out to be an hour-long expedition.
On the journey, I learned that the street boasts more South African tourists than foreigners and that hawkers could possibly make more money on a daily basis than a business with a counter, cash register, tables and a door.
As I look at the street again, I think of Benedict Wallet Vilakazi, the South African Zulu poet, author and linguist who died in 1947, and after who the street is named.
Little did he know that school children would be fighting for education on that street, that Winnie, the former ANC Women’s League president and ex-wife of Mandela, would be arrested on that very street, that Nobel accolades would arrive all the way from Sweden to this street in Soweto, or that today Vilakazi Street is more about preserving history – and making money off it.

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Pythons And  Peacemakers Down Vilakazi Street

The girl with the big dreams and bright eyes looks confident as she poses in front of the dusty Soweto street in which she grew up. This is no ordinary street. It’s the Vilakazi Street in Johannesburg’s black township of Soweto, where the late Nelson Mandela once lived. His house, 8115, is now a museum, and Thembi Mahlangu’s café, Thrive, occupies a pride of place on the same historic street, once also home to yet another Nobel peace prize laureate, Archbishop Desmond Tutu.
<img loading="lazy" decoding="async" class="size-medium wp-image-29914 alignleft" src="http://www.forbesafrica.com/app/uploads/2017/05/CBdec2014-4830-300x200.jpg" alt="" width="300" height="200" srcset="https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/CBdec2014-4830-300x200.jpg 300w, https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/CBdec2014-4830-600x400.jpg 600w, https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/CBdec2014-4830-768x512.jpg 768w, https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/CBdec2014-4830.jpg 1024w" sizes="auto, (max-width: 300px) 100vw, 300px" />
For 31-year-old Mahlangu, her café is a dream come true.
She had embarked on a career in the hospitality industry more out of necessity than passion, starting as a sculler at Nescafé straight after high school. She worked at several coffee shops thereafter, which fostered in her an enormous love for coffee – and people.
Her turning point came when she met businessman and entrepreneur Ross Paton at the Hyde Park Corner mall, where she worked in Culinary’s Café 41.
“Ross would come in for coffee every morning at the same time and I opened up for him even when the shop was closed,” says Mahlangu.
They had a mutual love for brewed beans and he was curious about her dreams and ambitions. She spoke about Soweto and how she wanted to introduce the neighborhood to good coffee.
“I often went to the street on my off days to see what was missing – coffee!” she says.
She dreamt of having a coffee trolley, but lacked funds. Luckily for her, Paton saw her drive and determination. He agreed to go with her to Vilakazi Street.
“At first I was terrified,” says Paton. “The first person I met on the street was a very friendly hawker and I thought, well, if all hawkers are this nice, this might not be such a bad idea.”
It was a Saturday and on Monday, he gave Mahlangu the go-ahead. He invested in a small piece of land and a year later, Thrive Café was born. He made Mahlangu his business partner and co-owner.
Growing up, Mahlangu had no idea the street would become so famous. Now, she gets to spend every day in the heartland of history. What was meant to be a coffee trolley turned into a vibey restaurant attracting locals and people from the (northern) suburbs alike, not to mention celebrities and tourists who “want to see Soweto but don’t want to compromise their palates”.
“Sometimes it is quite overwhelming,” says Mahlangu. It is a happy problem.
The Café has since turned into a bistro and bar. People come back for the food, service, ambience and to meet the young entrepreneur. Some of Mahlangu’s former customers from Sandton are regular patrons here too.
Thrive Café brought to the fore Mahlangu’s true ability to succeed under tremendous pressure in a highly competitive industry.  She is grateful the eatery is popular.
“Sometimes we don’t put chairs outside because it is just too busy. People queue up like they do at Tasha’s,” she says. Her team is her greatest support when things get tough and there is a true sense of camaraderie between them.
Mahlangu dedicated her time to what she truly loved, and was willing to learn and dream big.
Her life began in Soweto, and she chose to return to make it a better place.

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Full of Beans

Until he was 14 years old Jabu Mofomo had no idea how important his neighbor was. To Mofomo, the man next door merely spent hours writing on his porch and would jump the fence to gather up his son Magkatho after a day’s play. It was only when he jumped the fence in desperation one night that it dawned—his neighbor was Nelson Mandela.
Every day, Mandela would arrive home in his 1952 Morris. It was the talk of the street as he was the only one to own a car. He was always immaculately dressed, in an English suit and waistcoat. Mofomo would wave to Mandela from his home next door on Vilakazi Street, Soweto. Mandela always took time to greet his neighbors, he says.
Madiba, as Mandela is known by his clan name, also took time to organize the children in his street into a football club.
“He called us to his house, there were about sixty of us. We were able to squeeze into his place. He told us that he wanted to start a football club. To suggest names for a football club, we brought about 60 names. He wanted everyone to contribute. After an hour, he came out and said ‘Guys, I don’t like your names, you’re too Eurocentric. I would like football to have a different name.’ Mandela suggested the name of a wise Xhosa chief, Mochochonono, we all laughed. Any club that was named with an African name, at that time, would have been very strange,” he says.
But troubled political times overtook football.
“He promised to come back after two weeks. But that was the beginning of the end of us seeing Mandela. He was already in Libya. Things had intensified.”
In 1960, South African police gunned down 69 people in what was to become known as the Sharpeville Massacre. Mandela stood outside Mofomo’s house burning his passbook in protest against the deaths.
Mofomo says police raids increased, from this day, at the Mandela home.
“The police didn’t suspect anything about us. Even though, we lived right next door. I still recall some of the inspections at Mandela’s house, of what was happening around us, but I was too young to understand what was going on,” says Mofomo.
One night the raids were too close for comfort. Mandela jumped the fence with an armful of books telling Mofomo’s mother to hide them. They hid them in their house for two years and then, in fear, buried them in 1962.
For more than half a century, secret political documents remain buried in Vilakazi Street. In that time, Mofomo married and South Africa became a democracy. When the time came to dig up the books, no one could remember where they had been buried.
The last time anyone saw the books; they were covered in plastic, thrown into a sack and buried in the ground, so there is a chance that they are still intact. Mofomo says his mother couldn’t read and he was too young, so they never knew what was written in them.
The man who used to wash Winnie Madikizela-Mandela’s car now makes a living out of words. Inspired by his illustrious neighbor, he worked as an investigative journalist for six years. Mofomo says he joined the Catholic Commission for Justice and Peace, where he helped smuggle money to underground political organizations, especially the African National Congress.
In the late 1980s, Mofomo suffered police scrutiny; he went underground and worked for Liberty Life, a wealth management group, pushing paper.
“At the time, I was a prominent journalist. Things were not good then. I was doing a lot of investigative journalism stories about households that had been taken over by superintendents; evictions under the apartheid laws. I was exposing a lot of those kinds of things. You are either under surveillance, or else you were detained. But I was never detained,” he says.
These days, Mofomo enjoys his retirement supporting Soweto football giants Orlando Pirates and the Stormers, a Cape Town rugby team. Along with discarding the name Charlie, which he was given in apartheid days, he still visits the old house on Vilakazi Street number 8067/4, where his grandchildren live. It’s the only street to be home to two Nobel Peace Winners: Mandela and Archbishop Desmond Tutu.
The house looks very different from the days of his childhood, he says. It was rebuilt after a gas explosion rocked its foundations two years ago.  To this day, half a century later the books have yet to surface; most likely, he says, they’re under at least two inches of cement. A piece of African history that may be lost, but not forgotten.

Mandela’s  Buried Secrets

I consider it an opportunity of a lifetime, having met and taken pictures of our very first democratic South African president, Nelson Mandela. He has always left me with a sense of wonder; at the same time, he inspired me to believe that it is up to us to choose what we do with our circumstances.
The first time I came into close contact with Tata was in 1990—the day after he was released from Victor Verster Prison, near Cape Town. My colleagues and I rented a house in Vilakazi Street, Soweto, to keep watch as Mandela was expected to tour his former neighborhood for the first time in more than 27 years.
It was amazing; he was so much at ease and he spoke to people as though he had last seen them yesterday. He visited some families in their homes and asked about their health; how were the children? Were they doing well at school? He would stop and make time to talk to small children. I was in awe of this man, thinking that someone with his kind of history, would display arrogance and pride.
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The highlight of the day for us was that he even let the journalists take pictures with him! Did he really notice us? Journalists are so used to being pushed around and today here was a man, who was the talk of the whole world, letting us into his world—what a man! I will forever cherish that picture. I enlarged it, framed it and hung it in our living room.
Mandela is a brave man. He had few reasons to want to pay a courtesy call on the family of Hendrik Verwoerd—the architect of apartheid whose government vilified and locked Mandela away—but he did. Mandela went to in Orania, the Afrikaner-only community in South Africa, to sip tea with Betsie Verwoerd, the late prime minister’s widow.
Ahmed Kathrada—one of the men who faced the death penalty with Mandela—said everyone talks of reconciliation, Mandela gave it content. This is a man who went to the conservative Free State to address farmers. He even went to the steel-making blue-collar community of Vanderbijlpark, near Johannesburg, to address a group of right-wingers; each time, leaving me with a sense of wonder.
In 1994, South Africa held its first democratic elections. Mandela was to cast his vote in Ohlange High School, Durban. I was all set to capture this historic moment.
I had 10 packets of film and I started loading my two cameras. Having done that, some silly thought crossed my mind; what if the films have a factory fault? I took them out and loaded new ones. I went to take a shower, coming out of the shower I wondered what if someone tampered with my camera while I was in the shower. Eish! The door was not locked, then surely someone must have tampered with my cameras. I had better be safe than sorry; I discarded the films and loaded my cameras again. Now I was panicking, I was nervous, I tried to sleep, but my mind was racing thinking about the worst that could happen the next day.
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I do not know when I went to sleep, but I woke up in the middle of the night thinking what if the room service guy had come in while I was sleeping and exposed my films. I took them out and replaced them, again. Suddenly I was left with only four packets of film. Now my worry was that the four packets would not last; where would I buy film at this time? Maybe I should try in the morning? No, that would be too risky, I thought. I would definitely miss the story.
Needless to say the long awaited moment arrived. When I clicked my camera non-stop as Mandela cast his vote, it was the most beautiful feeling I have ever had in my life of taking pictures. It was a glorious moment and I was filled with peace and hope. This was no picture of violence, this was no picture of gruesome murder, this was no picture of strife, this was a picture of triumph and jubilation.
The ensuing presidential life never changed him. Protocol was never an issue, his bodyguards needed to be on the lookout at all times, because he would stop anywhere to chat to people—a true people’s president.
In 1996, Mandela received his Honorary Doctorate from Oxford University. The crowds were waiting eagerly for his arrival and as he came out of the car, he waved to the crowds in Madiba style. I was taking pictures when I noticed that he was coming towards me. I followed him with my eyes preparing to take a shot at any moment, he stopped right in front of me, extended his hand and greeted me and said: “How are you? Are you fine? Good to see you again.” My knees went weak. I do not know what I said, I mumbled something, I was just nodding my head, I was stiff, I tried to smile at the same time, I was close to tears.
I did not want to share this with anyone, after some thought I was convinced that, no, the old man must be mistaking me for someone else. I could not believe he had singled me out of the whole crowd. Phew! This man had the memory of an elephant.
<div id="attachment_841" style="width: 484px" class="wp-caption alignleft"><img loading="lazy" decoding="async" aria-describedby="caption-attachment-841" class="size-large wp-image-841" src="/wp-content/uploads/2017/04/mandela-mbeki-de-klerk-33-1024x757.jpg" alt="" width="474" height="350" />Former President Nelson Mandela, (C) waves next South African President Thabo Mbeki (L),Former South Africa President F.W de Klerk ,(R) behind Johana Rupert Chairman of Sunshine golf circurt of South Africa and Dr Hasso Plattner (R-T) founder of Hasso Plattner Foundation at the opening ceremony of The Presidents Cup Tournament held at Fancourt in George South Africa November 20,2003.REUTERS/ Juda Ngwenya.</div>
In 1997, Mandela was on a state visit to Libya and as he was escorted to the hall where they were going to have dinner he saw me and a colleague who worked for SABC, he greeted us and asked if we were being are taken care of in Tripoli, furthermore, were our families fine at home. He even suggested that we sit with him at the table, but as soon as he stopped and greeted some dignitaries, we disappeared in the crowd.
I met him again in Lusaka when I was covering a SADC meeting. Mandela personally introduced me to the president of Burundi. I also noticed that before I took any pictures he would always greet and chat—I think it is his way of making people feel at ease and comfortable with him. He has a way with people, while you feel honored to know him; he honors you and has a way of making you feel important.
Mandela is a man of integrity; as I look back from the time he was released, his pre-election campaign, his time of office, his retirement, through it all it, he did not change.
One other thing I love about Mandela is that he makes for good pictures, easy and comfortable pictures. Reuters presented him with the picture I took of him casting his vote in 1994. He was pleased and appreciated the gesture. I have nothing else but the deepest respect and honor for him.
Today I am one of the best known South African photojournalists and I attribute the best years of my career to this man who directly and indirectly encouraged me to be the best that I can be.
I thank God for his life.

Tag: Vilakazi Street

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