November 15, 2002

FINALLY, at 61, Ellen Mazibuko has her own 2-roomed unit on the grounds of Orlando West hostel, after sharing a unit with five other women for 30 years. "I can now pray in peace, think about issues and sleep whenever I want," she says with a smile as she inhales snuff.

Sharing a unit with other people was never easy. "We used to fight a lot. You are thrown into a unit with five complete strangers. There's little understanding. Some wouldn't wash the tub after bathing. Some times the fights would be so serious that the police would be called in."

Mazibuko, who works as a helper at Southern Hospital in Rosettenville, is one of the many migrant women who made the hostel their home away from home. Orlando West hostel is the only hostel for females in Soweto and has had a relatively stable population since it was established in 1970 - until recently that is.

According to Maki Kuaho, project manager of Orlando West hostel, the hostel has a total of 115 units inside 29 blocks. 36 of the units have now been converted to house families under the city's Hostel Upgrade Programme, and some new blocks are being added to the complex. Altogether, 96 units are to be converted to house two families each. Where previously up to eight housemates shared washing basins and a common kitchen and occupied the same bedroom, now there are just two families sharing a renovated dormitory.

Mazibuko arrived at the hostel in 1970 as a newly widowed woman with three children back in Loskop, KwaZulu-Natal. "I couldn't find a house in Joburg as I didn't qualify under Section 10 of the Group Areas Act." She therefore moved into the hostel, initially out of desperation.

But change is now in the air. The hostel is a site of a massive upgrade and renovations under the city's Hostel Upgrade Programme. The plan is to convert the existing blocks into modern family units housing fewer people. This, it is hoped, will make the inmates more rooted to the urban areas and take ownership of their dwellings.

Another sign of change is the presence of 50-year old Jeremiah Msibi, originally from Mondlo in Vryheid and the only male resident of the hostel. Six years ago, Msibi became the first man to officially own a unit at the hostel. "Other men would move in with their girlfriends but soon they would have a tiff and I would never see the man again. So I'm the only bull in this kraal," he asserts proudly. This position enables him to work as the only handyman in the compound. "These women rely on me to fix their stoves, kettles - just about everything - you name it I fix it."

Msibi used to stay in Dube Hostel and, by his own admission, gained notoriety for being quarrelsome. "I was involved in squabbles all the time," he admits freely, "so I used to be beaten up there". Now here it is safer, women are so much more peaceful and accommodating.

Msibi's presence signals a departure from a long established norm. The place used to be out of reach for men. "There were security guards who wouldn't allow men in. If you had a boyfriend, you couldn't bring him in here. You would have to book into a hotel," says Mazibuko with a chuckle. "But nowadays, men come and go as they please - that's why you see so many kids around."

The presence of these kids symbolise yet another significant development - the increasing presence in the hostel of younger women with stronger ties to the city. People like Mazibuko - long time residents of the hostel with strong links to the countryside - are becoming an endangered species as families headed by young women become a feature of the hostel.

From the infamous Killer Road, the hostel looks like a cluster of detached units, indeed almost like four-roomed township houses, except the units are not placed in monotonous rows typical of houses in the townships. The units, scattered around the complex, are made conspicuous by their red bricks. But something else comes into view - new shades of white and pink sprouting up all over the hostel. These are the new blocks being built to upgrade and extend the hostel.

The grounds of the hostel are relatively well maintained - in comparison that is, to male hostels in the area. There are no gamblers throwing dice or people drinking beer in the open - familiar sights at men-only hostels. The hostel grounds are relatively neat and tidy - except for the rubble left by contractors still working on site. In a word, the hostel is feminine.

The project to upgrade the hostel was started in 1997 by the then Southern Metropolitan Local Council. At the time, the idea was to do a patch and paint job - to simply fix the hostel without changing its character. The Gauteng provincial government was to contribute funding of R4 000 per bed for the renovations. But the City of Johannesburg later decided to convert hostels into family units, suitable for accommodating hostel-dwellers and their families. This shift in focus resulted in costs escalating to a massive R16 000 per unit. To relieve overcrowding and improve living conditions, the units that previously housed an average of eight people, were converted to accommodate only two families each. Extra units had to be found for people displaced by the development, further increasing the costs of the upgrade programme.

But the project proved difficult to implement. "Some people have families and houses somewhere else, therefore just need a bed to sleep in during their sojourn in Joburg," explains Henry Human, project manager of hostels for the city. "A survey conducted in 2 000 revealed that most inmates are reluctant to bring their families to the city." So, despite the number of years she has spent in the city, Mazibuko still thinks of herself as a woman from Loskop, and, when she retires in the near future, she will pack her bags and "return home". Over the years, she retained her strong ties in the countryside, going home regularly "especially over weekends and when I was on leave to see her kids".

New shades of white and pink sprouting up all over the Orlando West hostel, new blocks being built

According to Human, the city of Johannesburg could in the near future, review its policy on hostel upgrades to make the project more cost-effective and more tailored to the needs of the hostel-dwellers.

The hostel upgrade project ground to a halt last year after the city discovered that the hostel was never declared a township. "There was no layout, survey or plan for the hostel", says Skhumbuzo Ndumndum, project manager of Institutional Housing in the city. "Town planners, environmental consultants and surveyors were subsequently appointed to survey site. We discovered from their reports that 19 units were on the floodline. These units are now being demolished." Five new units are being constructed to accommodate those displaced by the demolitions. "Once the area is formalized as a township, early next year, the programme will continue in earnest, with 29 blocks consisting of 66 new units being built," Kuaho said.

The next challenge will be to regularize the payment of rent by inmates. Hostel inmates, according to Human, are notorious for failing to pay rent. The city thus often gets little in return for refurbishing these relics of apartheid planning. "We are currently looking at introducing cost recovery rentals," Human said.

Mazibuko regrets that many of her contemporaries have passed away. "We have buried quite a number of people. Now the hostel is full of young girls who bring their boyfriends in." Times are indeed changing in this former bastion of female identity.