The EconomistDecember 21st 2019 Yeoville 652 The smell of frankincense burning in coffee shops is testament
to the number of Ethiopians who have left behind ethnic conflict,
too. Zimbabweans are targeted by multiple adverts offering low-
cost remittance transfers back home. Smaller communities from
west African countries such as Liberia and Sierra Leone have also
found a haven in Yeoville.
Many are fleeing civil strife. Some are escaping a more perva-
sive persecution. “I’m gay,” says Richard, from Ghana, who came to
Yeoville in 2003 and never left. “I’m not very welcome back home. I
would have had to have led my whole life for other people, as a lie.”
Most migrants to Yeoville, like newcomers anywhere, start by
seeking out compatriots. But over time there is cross-pollination.
Laye Kamara, from Liberia, is dating a Zimbabwean woman, whose
level of education impressed him. At a local primary school a Zim-
babwean and Cameroonian couple explain that their son speaks
Lingala in the playground so he can fit in with Congolese pupils.
Food, like education, is a catalyst for mixing. Blessings Café,
one of the many diners in Yeoville, is manned by Lucky Olabode, a
former fork-lift truck driver from Delta State in Nigeria. He has
learned to cook pap (maize), meat and stew for his southern Afri-
can clientele, as well as traditional fare such as pepper soup and
jollof rice for Nigerians. Sharing meals is one reason why “we have
a strong community here,” he says.
It is a sentiment that Mr Sandile is trying to foster with his own
dinner club. On a recent visit your correspondent sampled the
famous cassava three ways; jollof rice, Senegalese-style; “Nigerian
cow leg”; Ethiopian ladyfingers; Mozambican pickle smeared on
steamed fish; pumpkin dishes galore; poached guavas; and fried
magwinya(doughnuts). All of it was washed down with a savage
blend of Egyptian arak and Ghanaian herbal bitters.
When Mr Sandile first moved to Yeoville he worked as a radio
journalist. He would also act as a fixer, doing odd jobs. The cooking
came later, as a way of showing that Yeoville still had much to of-
fer. “I embraced multi-African food,” he explains. “I don’t want to
go to Melville [a mostly white, hipster suburb] for a pizza. Fuck it.”
Yet Mr Sandile is the first to recognise that Yeoville is far from a
cosmopolitan paradise. “Yeoville is the pan-Africanism of the
streets,” he argues. If there is a shared identity it is one born of mu-
tual hustle, rather than any kind of ideology. More than 70% of
workers in Yeoville earn less than 6,400 rand ($432) per month.
“Here in Yeoville I think we are all friends. The reason for any pro-
blem is hardship,” says Mr Olabode, the Nigerian chef. His 3,000
rand rent is three-quarters of his monthly salary.
Many migrants use Yeoville as a starter suburb be-
fore moving out of the city, in the same way as white
Europeans once did. But saving is hard when rent takes
up most of your pay. Not that one gets a lot for the mon-
ey. The demand for accommodation is so high that
two-bedroom flats can rake in more than 20,000 rand
per month, about the same as more salubrious parts of
Johannesburg. In this case, though, the flats may have
ten or more residents. Opposite the Yeoville market a
brick wall is festooned with signs looking for “a wom-
an to share a bed” or “a man to share a sitting room”.
Nor does the South African state make it easy for
Yeoville residents. A common complaint is sluggish-
ness in processing asylum claims. Mr Bondo has still
not been formally classified as a refugee, which would
make it easier to work, despite having arrived from
Congo 23 years ago. He has had to renew his status as an
asylum seeker more than 40 times.
The city government has long neglected the area,
perhaps because most foreigners cannot vote. It is
more likely to sweep informal traders off the pave-
ments than sweep litter off the streets. That makes en-
terprise hard for people who often have no other way to
make money. A Zimbabwean woman flogging chunks
of cabbage by the roadside explains that she would like
to sell higher-value goods but cannot risk the confisca-
tion of more expensive stock.
And it is not just the state that is hostile. In Septem-
ber cities including Johannesburg saw spasms of xeno-
phobic attacks on foreign-owned shops and property.
Such was the violence that a Nigerian airline sent a
plane for dozens of citizens to leave the country.
In Yeoville, because of the safety of numbers, there
were relatively few attacks. When vigilantes got close,
warnings were passed in person and on WhatsApp.
(“The Zulus are coming” was a common message.) But
the violence has still caused a sense of unease among
residents. Richard, from Ghana, says South Africans’
“Afrophobia” stems from their own plight, though that
is no excuse. “Don’t blame me for you not getting a job.”And a bitter aftertaste
For Mr Sandile the “giant elephant in the room is the
way we Africans treat each other.” Even though xeno-
phobic attacks are rare in Yeoville, crime is not. There
were 27 murders in 2018 and the tally was higher in- Every night before his supper club opens he en-
sures the toilets are washed then locked. Otherwise
they are spoiled and items are stolen. “We are left here
as Africans robbing each other and hating each other.”
Like many residents, he has a passionate ambiva-
lence for Yeoville. He loves what it ought to represent,
but laments the day-to-day reality. It is not unlike his
feelings towards contemporary South Africa as a
whole: great in theory, less so in practice.
For now the remembrance of the heady idealism of
the early 1990s, the joy of a shared meal and the need to
make a living keep the plates coming. “I’m staying here
and doing my table,” says Mr Sandile. “Because my
memory is my weapon. And I remember that we used
to live nicely here.”
*For several of Mr Sandile's recipes, go online to
economist.com/recipes