Cape Town — Violence or the threat of it has forced an estimated 20,000 migrants out of their homes to places of temporary shelter in Cape Town. AllAfrica intern Faatimah Hendricks blogs on what happened when some of them were relocated to a community hall in her area at the weekend.
Shock and fear gripped me when I read that attacks on foreign nationals had spread to Du Noon – a township just 5km away from my home in the northern suburbs of Cape Town.
Zimbabweans, Malawians, Mozambicans, Congolese and other African nationals had nowhere to go after fleeing their burning homes and the brutality of some of their neighbours, so city officials delivered them to community halls in the surrounding suburbs.
I was somewhat surprised to discover early on Saturday that more than 200 refugees were occupying the community hall in my area - Bothasig. This arrangement was indefinite.
On what turned out to be a sunny autumn day, I went to the hall to see what was happening and what I could do. I was completely unprepared for what I found.
People had set up "beds" everywhere. Many had fled without anything other than what they were wearing. Those who had managed to gather some belongings had them piled up in heaps alongside them.
Men sat around, motionless, waiting for news. Some watched sport or news on television sets they had managed to bring with them. Fearful women were lying on the cold, hard floor trying to pacify their restless children. Babies were crying from hunger. Mothers had no baby food or clean nappies.
Every individual had a look of uncertainty and fear in his or her eyes. No one had any idea of where they were, or what was going to happen to them.
They had been moved to the hall on Friday night but as of 8am on Saturday, nobody had yet done anything to help them. During the course of Saturday morning, local religious organizations gathered together, deciding on how to help their fellow African brothers and sisters.
Most of the refugees were men, so the women and children were found a large room, better ventilated and with glass doors leading to a yard in which children could play. The new venue also enabled volunteers to assist the women and children first.
Members of the Bothasig Muslim and Cultural Society made sandwiches and coffee for breakfast as well as soup for lunch. The local pharmacist donated medical supplies. The Assembly of God church donated clothes, nappies, baby food, sanitary towels and non-perishables. Other religious organisations and businesses donated food and sandwiches for supper.
By Saturday evening, the hall was cold. Many of those who had fled Du Noon had not had time even to save their bedding, but Cape Town's Disaster Risk Management Centre helped with more than 200 blankets. Later the police arrived with another 600, some of which were kept while others were handed on to another centre of refuge. The levels of support and generosity were amazing.
For the remainder of the weekend, ordinary members of the Bothasig community brought more food: fruit and vegetables, big pots of vegetable stew, samp [maize] and beans, and enough bread to feed everyone for at least two days, even though some of the refugees were too stressed to eat.
Even though the refugees faced a very uncertain situation, they told me that going back to their own countries is not a possibility. A Malawian man said: "I can't go back. There is no work in Malawi. How can I go back?"
One man came up and pleaded for clothes, because all he had were the ones he was wearing. A 20-year-old Zimbabwean said he could not return home because he needs to work in South Africa to pay his brother's school fees.
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On Sunday and Monday, city officials came to try to persuade the refugees to move to one of the "safe sites" the city has designated for refugees to live in until they can be reintegrated into communities or helped to return home. However, they resisted being moved, saying the sites were too far from their places of work.
Right through the weekend, children played, innocent and unknowing, while their parents worried about what the future holds.
Never in my life did I think I would experience such events in my own community. But I was pleased when a Zimbabwean woman said: "Not all South Africans are bad… May God bless you."
Just before I left the hall on one night, another man called me over to say: "Even though we might not show our appreciation, God will bless you. You might not get reward from us, but you will from somewhere else. May God bless you. May God bless you," he kept saying, making me want to burst into tears.
