Gauteng

The ice-cream cart or tricycle is not a new idea and goes back to the 1920s and to Mr Wall and Sons of London. They owned a butcher’s shop but the pies they made were only popular in winter. They got the idea to make ice-cream to use factory capacity during the summer months so they didn’t have to lay off workers when no-one wanted to eat hot pies. The First World War got in the way of their aspirations, but when finally launched Wall’s ice-cream, sold from ice-cream carts, the product was an instant success. At first, the ice-cream vendors made their way through the streets of London with horses and carts and then Walls’s developed their famous ‘Stop Me and Buy One’ tricycles. The number of Wall’s tricycles on the road increased from 10 in 1922 to 8 500 in 1939. Even now, replica Wall’s bicycles can be seen in tourist towns and beachfronts in the UK.

Replica ‘Stop Me and Buy One’ Wall's ice-cream tricycle team in Britain (The Mail on Sunday newspaper, 10.03.1985)

Ice-cream consumed in great quantities around the world

Europeans...

In the article below, journalist Lucille Davie explores the many historical layers of the Klipriviersberg Nature Reserve. The piece was first published on the City of Johannesburg's website on 8 April 2002. Click here to view more of her work.

It's Johannesburg's best-kept, back-to-nature secret: just 11 kilometres south of the city centre is an unspoilt 680-hectare stretch of open veld and koppies, bursting with 150 species of birds, and around 650 indigenous plants and trees, with the pleasant Bloubosspruit flowing idly through it.

The Klipriviersberg Nature Reserve offers a network of trails, with guided walks and rambles up to nine kilometres long.

The Reserve has an interesting history. In 1895 it was decided that the northern end of the Reserve could be walled to form a dam to supply the needs of the rapidly growing town.

The foundations of the dam wall - large stacked quartzite blocks are still visible, and the river flows through the middle of the wall, down into the Reserve and out the other end, into the Klip River.

But four years later, in 1899, the Anglo Boer War broke out and the plans were permanently shelved.

The dam, referred to as the Vierfontein Dam Scheme, was to have had walls of 12 metres high, in line with the koppies on either side of the valley. Around £70 000 was spent on the dam before it was abandoned. The huge Vaal Dam, another 50 kilometres south, supplies Johannesburg with water, augmented by water from...

In all I have read about the Witwatersrand I have not come to know precisely when and by whom the name was coined. I am hoping that members of The Heritage Portal can throw some light on the subject, and also reflect on the reason for the given name.

In regard to the name Witwatersrand, in English the commonly quoted meaning is “The Ridge of White Waters”, a derivative of the more direct English wording “White Waters Ridge”. However, the name is Dutch; it was given to the regional landform by early Dutch-speaking Boer pioneers whom, because of their lifestyle, had a fundamental appreciation of the geomorphic significance in Southern Africa of this particular landform (discussed further below). Other white pioneers and missionaries, including thousands of English speaking “Uitlanders” who flocked to the Witwatersrand after the discovery of gold in conglomerate in 1886, naturally perpetuated the English rendition of the word.

The usually cited English meaning of the of the Dutch name, Witwatersrand, mentioned above, I believe is wrong.

Inside cover of the book by William Scully published in 1912

How the English version of the name Witwatersrand was, or became, commonplace is exemplified by a report in 1878 by Alfred Armfield, the Inspector of Goldfields for Sir Theosophilus Shepstone’s government in Pretoria from 1877, cited in Cartwright (1962). The...

A stunning new mosaic with a message of Ubuntu has brought hope and dignity to a landmark site which has in recent times been mired in squalor and decay. Highly visible to passing traffic, the small park occupies a busy corner opposite Darras Centre in  Kensington.

After suffering repeated vandalism, the war memorial that occupied the space was successfully restored and relocated to Bezuidenhout Park earlier this year. Now settled at its new site, the war memorial has been given a new lease of life in spacious and tranquil surroundings.

The vandalised Bezuidenhout Valley War Memorial in 2018

Dignity restored:  the Bezuidenhout War Memorial at its new home in Bezuidenhout Park (Mayat-Hart Architects)

Back at the mini-park, the newly-created mosaic wall marks the site where the old memorial stood, which continues as a place of memory and reflection.  A side panel carries an outline image of monument, with the words:

First erected on this site in the 1920s, the Bezuidenhout Valley War Memorial remembers men of this suburb who died in World...

The article below is the final piece of Mike Alfred's series on Joburg personalities from the first decade of the 21st century. Click here to view Kathy Munro's fantastic introduction and here to view the series index. The stories were written in 2005/6.

I thought that no book about Johannesburg citizens would be quite authentic without a profile of a kombi taxi driver. They loom large in our driverly consciousness. They often, too often, conjure dark and violent thoughts and spontaneous curses. They contribute to a multi billion rand industry, breeding ground for new capitalists; an industry without which, millions of daily commuters would be helplessly handicapped.

Have you ever walked into a taxi rank with the intention of asking a driver to give his story? Suspicious stares greet you. Suddenly everybody becomes deaf and you become invisible. Silence and turned backs are your lot. This freezing happened several times. It would have been be easier of course, if I could speak Zulu or another African language. Later, when I’ve made a few friends, I’m told I look like a cop, or someone from SARS. Me? Goodness! So, I’m coming close to the end of the book with no taxi driver in view. I ask my charlady for help. She speaks to someone out there but somehow we fail to make contact. Then I’m told about a long distance taxi driver, but I wish to speak to an urban driver, preferably on the Soweto run. I begin to feel desperate. One day...

In the article below, journalist Lucille Davie sits down with the epic storyteller, Chris van Wyk. The piece was originally published on the City of Joburg's website on 4 August 2004. Chris van Wyk passed away on 3 October 2014.

Writer and poet Chris van Wyk says he loves to skinder - “I skinder more than most women.” And that skinder or gossip accounts for a large part of his success as a writer.

As a young child he listened in on his mother’s skinder with her friends, even when she chased him away to another part of their four-roomed house. These stories of Riverlea are poignantly and humorously portrayed in Shirley, Goodness and Mercy, a childhood memoir.

In the chapter entitled ‘The Mouse’ he writes: “You will not believe the kind of information you can pick up just by keeping your ears open. There are certain little tricks you have to observe to prevent yourself from being caught eavesdropping.” 

Firstly, he writes, don’t behave like a mouse because “if you’re quiet they know you’re listening”. Instead, “make busy noises like drinking a glass of water, singing bits from pop songs, calling to the dog outside”. Secondly, “do something while you’re listening. Read a book or do some homework” so that you’re not just staring into space when they enter the room. Thirdly, watch out that you don’t laugh at a joke you overhear. And, “If Ma calls you, don’t answer immediately. If you do, it’s a dead...

In May 1900, Lord Roberts of Kandahar, Commander-in-Chief of the British Forces, was poised to culminate his illustrious military career by marching triumphantly into his enemy’s capital city and concluding the South African War. But it was a charade. There could be no victory without a vanquished foe and the Boer leaders were still at large with a fighting remnant of their army. Another two bitter years of warfare lay ahead.

Lord Roberts (National Library of Ireland)

In the city, rumours were rife and the people awaiting the British advance lacked information and were desperately worried and afraid. Morale was at its lowest. Bessie Collins, a loyal republican despite her English surname, kept a daily letter-diary addressed to her friend in Port Elizabeth. On 6 May: “We all feel that we are very near the end. One more stand and all will be over. Our hearts are heavy. We fear the worst. The men are so weary and faint hearted that we do not even know whether their officers will get them to make a last stand.” Her concerns were probably echoed by many in the town when a week later she recorded: “I cannot see the use of shedding more blood and only long for this awful war to cease. It is getting unendurable to...

From Here We Shall Never Move. These were the words inscribed almost a century ago onto a cross and mounted on a mulberry tree in a small village to the northwest of Pretoria by Fr Camillus De Hovre OMI.

The Belgian Oblate priest could not have known how these words would act as a forecast to the significance of the Most Holy Redeemer mission in the history of the Catholic Church in Pretoria, and in South Africa in general.

The original church building of the Most Holy Redeemer built in 1921

In January 2021, the mission in Mmakau Village will reach a century of existence. It is a centenary steeped in important historical milestones, particularly in the spread of the Catholic faith in Pretoria and beyond.

The beginnings of the mission run parallel to the evangelisation of indigenous African communities in the early to middle 20th century in South Africa.

In essence, its founding is a direct manifestation of the wishes of Bishop Eugène de Mazenod, the founder of the Oblates of Mary Immaculate Fathers.

“It is to the indigenous communities that you have been sent. It is their conversion which the Church expects of the Holy Ministry which has been bestowed upon...

There is a story of a riot with much blood in the early history of the Dube Township in Soweto. It happened 11 months after the Dube hostel opened its doors on 1 October 1956. The Dube Hostel was the first government hostel in Soweto (then called the South Western Townships).

Dube Hostel (via Google Maps)

The government hostel scheme was for South African permit holders from the then so-called Homelands / Bantustans / rural areas working in Johannesburg on contract since the urbanisation – in this case to Greater Soweto / Alexandra – of South African Blacks was no option.

The first group of Zulu migrants in the Dube Hostel included migrants who used to live in Johannesburg in what the press called locations in the sky. These were so-called 'boys' working as cleaners, gardeners, even manjingelanes (night watch men) and accommodated in rooms provided by their employers – landlords owning the buildings – mainly located at the top of Johannesburg flat and office complexes.

Hostel development was in compliance with the hostel law adopted in 1955 to support the 1950 Groups Areas Act in terms of which all racial groups had to live separately in designated areas. Hostels therefore had to be provided for the mentioned 'boys' – as commonly referred to – also for domestic workers (garden boys and kitchen girls) living in...

In the article below, journalist Lucille Davie describes some of the victories and defeats of the Parktown & Westcliff Heritage Trust as it made its transition to becoming the Johannesburg Heritage Foundation. The article was written in 2012 and published on Davie's website in 2020. Click here to view more of her work.

Joburg turned 126 years old on 4 October. On the same day the Parktown & Westcliff Heritage Trust became a new entity, the Johannesburg Heritage Foundation.

The trust has been the champion of heritage structures in the city for the past 30 years, and Flo Bird has been the chairperson for all those years. 

A fiery fighter of the city’s heritage, she says of the trust: “It was always a fighting organisation – we were not prepared to surrender heritage without a fight.”

One of the historic buildings the trust has saved is the Sunnyside Hotel, built in 1895 as the home of American Hennen Jennings, and from 1901, the official residence of Lord Alfred Milner and subsequent officials.

Sunnyside (The Heritage Portal)

Another home in Parktown that was saved from the bulldozers was built for James Goch. He arrived in the city in 1886 and set up a photographic studio. He moved into the house with his family around 1905. The double-storey house had 12...