Keywords: Apartheid, forced removals, District Six Museum, restitution.

District Six was a mixed race community in Cape Town in which my family has its roots. In the mid 1960s, sixty thousand persons were forcibly removed from District Six. Families were uprooted and placed in hovels, poorly built houses on the Cape flats and elsewhere. Many families were separated, torn apart. In fact, during the Apartheid regime, four million people suffered from forcible removals as the Government sought to destroy all mixed race neighbour-hoods. By the time of the removals, District Six was in a state of disrepair due to government neglect over years, but it was still a place of pride. It was one of the very few places in South Africa where people of many races lived side by side.

My own family had moved out of District Six earlier, at the beginning of the second World War. During my childhood, my family lived just outside the District but I grew up in the area and I went to school there at the same school that my mother had attended. I played soccer in the District, was trained as a teacher in the area and taught there for many years before the demolition.

When people were forcibly moved out, their buildings were bulldozed and the government was bent on erasing all memory of the area. They believed that they could succeed in wiping the slate clean of history. From the mid-sixties onwards we engaged in various ways to ensure that the government did not succeed in redeveloping the area. While the people and the buildings had been cleared, we were determined they did not erase memory. We were determined that they did not rebuild a pristine white community on this land.

One of our strongest weapons was the boycott. We threatened any firm that was thinking of re-building the area that local communities would boycott their products. Many of these companies did not realise that the consequence of redeveloping District Six would be the erasure of memory and the dishonouring of history. We knew the boycotts would succeed because local communities always responded to our call.

Through many people’s hard work, we succeeded in preventing the state from redeveloping the area. The next step was then to find ways of telling the story of District Six. We realised that, when tourists came to Cape Town, they would want to know why such a valuable portion of land lay vacant, why it remains undeveloped and overgrown with bush. We were not confident that others would relay the story accurately, so we sat for quite some time, three to four years, debating the most effective vehicle to tell the story of our community. Eventually we decided upon a museum and we found this building, an old Methodist Church, which we were offered at a very reasonable rent.

Our mission was to tell the story of District Six and also importantly to keep alive its memory. We called a public meeting in October 1992, wanting to establish whether we had the Cape Town residents behind us. We put out word and asked people to bring photographs, any written material they might have about their family history, and of course their stories. We were overwhelmed by the response and the museum began.

We knew this had to be a people’s museum so there could be no charge at the door. The people from District Six had been banished in the 1960s to the townships on the Cape Flats so they would have to travel a considerable distance just to get to the museum. Once they were here, we wanted to welcome them. We wanted this to be a place where they could sit and reflect and share their stories. This was to be a place to assist them to deal with their pain, and with their anger.

We don’t believe that it’s possible to recreate the past, but working with memory is what we’re all about. The memory of District Six is important for various reasons. Firstly because it is a memory of people, of families who lived here for generations. This area has a precious history. Alongside the stories of the local African people and the Dutch and English colonisers, many others lived in District Six, including slaves who were brought to Cape Town from Indonesia, Malaysia, India, Madagascar, West Africa, East Africa and the West Indies. Even before these enslaved people were emancipated, many were living on the slopes of the mountains not far from here. They lived in caves, in holes, in shacks even while they were still indentured to a master and, when they were freed, they and their descendants built lives in what was to become District Six. In the 1880s, a new wave of people came to Cape Town from Europe and North America seeking gold and diamonds. If they didn’t make their fortune many didn’t have enough money to buy their way back to their home countries, so they stayed and carved out lives here. At the turn of the century, refugees from Russia and Eastern Europe fled to Cape Town. The community that took shape here in District Six held the stories of all these different peoples. The memory, the story, the history of Cape Town, is a very special one, and treasuring the memory of District Six is vital for all of us who called it home.

It is also important for the country as a whole. During the Apartheid regime we were immersed in a world of prejudice, hate and greed, where a minority sector of the South African community controlled the destinies of the majority. The history that students in schools were told during these years was such a warped version that it was important for us to do something about it. As I said earlier, four million people were forcibly removed from communities like District Six during the Apartheid regime. We believed that the history of District Six could become symbolic, it could become a model of what should and could be done in relation to South African history. We felt that we needed to record the history of our area and preserve it in a beautiful space. By using the memory and the history of families of District Six we hoped to inspire communities elsewhere in the country, and this is now occurring. By piecing together the stories of all the different communities who were dispersed, the social, economic and political history of this country will gradually become more available to us all. District Six has become a symbol all of that was wrong about forced removals, but also a symbol of the beauty of reclaiming history.

Working with memory involves ensuring that people’s stories are kept alive, but it is more than this. We take great care in how people’s stories are told, recorded and displayed so that the process assists in healing. The museum also has a very practical focus. By documenting history it is possible for those in the present to trace family and community histories. It is also possible for claims of restitution to be made.

We have worked hard to ensure that this is a healing place. When the government of the time was moving people away from this area, it was also wanting to erase memory. We are convinced of this, because here they just weren’t satisfied in moving people away, off the land, as they did elsewhere in the country. They did two other things here. Firstly, they brought in bulldozers to flatten practically every building and much of the debris was loaded onto trucks and dumped in the sea. They also used bulldozers to break up the old roads, or to cover them with rubble. And then, they superimposed on this area a new road grid with new names. In other words, they were saying to the people that we didn’t exist – that District Six was a dream. They sought to remove every memory of our co-existence.

When someone enters this museum, they walk into the main hall where almost the entire floor is covered in a road map. It’s a hand-painted street map of District Six as it once was. This was our initial exhibition and it was called ‘Streets’. When ex-residents come here for the first time we encourage them to go to the map and to find the spot in the district where they once lived. We give them pens and they write down the number of their house and the name of their family. Many elderly persons who come in, men in particular strangely enough, shed tears as they write on the map.

The museum began with this map and grew through photographs and fragments of memory that people brought with them. It is worth remembering that most of our exhibits here have been created from what people have brought – it’s their museum, their photographs, their stories. While the government removed the people and all signs of the people, now we have a place to reconstruct our memory. That is why the map covers the main floor. That is why we have the original road signs prominently displayed. People cannot bring their grandchildren to show them the building where they once lived, but they can visit us here, demonstrate on the map, view the road signs and, through the photographs, stories, music and displays, they can re-engage with memory and share it with others.

From the early days of the museum, ex-residents have come here to sit on the benches and just spend time with their memories. They sit for long periods. Occasionally they get up and look at a photograph or make themselves a cup of tea, and then they sit down again and remain there. In the beginning we didn’t really understand this, but now we see it as a part of healing. This is a space for people to come and to escape back into their past. It’s a place to find refuge from the present.

It is more than a refuge though, and it is more than a place to look at history. For ex-residents it is also a place to tell their story and to contribute to the ongoing process of regenerating this community. When ex-residents visit us, we ask them to talk about their parents or their great-grandparents, to talk about the football club, or their church, or their school, or their work or their children. We specifically invite people to share their stories here and we record them. A member of staff listens and asks questions while recording the stories with a microphone, tape recorder, or video camera. It is from these recordings that exhibitions are created. People’s stories and comments are also continually woven by volunteers into large calico sheets that hang down from the ceilings. This is a living museum, it is constantly being created by those who visit us. Recording the stories of ex-residents is also significant because it affirms that their lives and histories are worthy of a broader audience. To record and then relay people’s stories in the museum is empowering for individuals and for the community. We see it as a key part of our work. It is one way in which the community of District Six lives on.

We are currently very active in the restitution process. One of the first laws passed by the Nelson Mandela’s multi-racial government was the Land Restitution Act – an Act which gave people the right to claim back their land. If a family lived in District Six for at least 10 years prior to the forced removals, then they now have a right to claim back their land. It is now possible for families to return. Our ‘Streets’ exhibition enabled a symbolic return, but at the end of the day they had to leave the museum and return to the townships. Because we managed to stop the area being re-developed, now there is the opportunity for a true return, a return with rights to land. I’m the vice chairperson of the representatives of the District Six community who are spearheading the development of a restitution process. Our mission is to bring the community back. We are not interested in individual payments of restitution, we are interested in reconstituting a community. There is a lot of work involved in terms of practicalities, receiving submissions, holding community meetings and working with individual families. We have also developed partnerships with architects and urban designers. Perhaps most importantly we are working on how to recreate a community here which avoids the violence and gangs of other neighbourhoods.

Because we will be creating community afresh, we are in a position to set up local structures that may succeed in keeping the gangs and violence out. We see the museum as having a key role to play. We will be opening our building to provide activities and forums for all the different age groups of the returned District Six community – the children, the youths, the young adults and the older adults. We’ve acquired another building close by that will be used for community meetings, clubs and cultural events. Perhaps there will be poetry writings, reading clubs, photography, painting, debating societies, music appreciation, and whatever community members are interested in. We are dedicated to work to enable the kind of communion, the kind of community spirit that once existed in these streets. There are many things that can contribute to this, including architecture. We aim to enable people to start living outside again. The houses that will be built will include a stoop, a balcony, where families can sit in the evenings or on the weekend. This was characteristic of life in District Six for many decades. With people mingling outside, with neighbours present and visible, it becomes more possible for children to play in the streets without fear. Some of my most fond memories involve playing games on the streets, with tins or balls made out of newspaper or material. We are determined to facilitate the building of community relationships. We will try to reconstruct the interconnectedness that once existed here. We will celebrate each other’s festivals and build a spirit of community. The museum has already taken many steps in this direction. As families begin to move back we will build further connections with local institutions – schools, shops, sporting clubs, mosques, churches and temples. We have many challenges ahead but to know that District Six will live once more in these streets is an exquisite feeling.

The government displaced this community, we believe, because District Six was a living model of how different peoples can coexist. In these streets, people from different countries, different religions, speaking different languages, lived alongside one another for generations. I’m not saying that it was a place where there was no crime, where there were no fights or arguments, but people lived here side by side and if they fought, then they walked together, shopped together, talked together the next morning. The story of District Six is that different peoples can peacefully coexist. This is the story the Apartheid Government wanted to erase, and it is the story we are treasuring and retelling. We must not forget our history, we must bring it with us as we move forward. So much about the world seems at risk at present. Here at the District Six Museum we will continue to offer an example of peaceful coexistence at a time when the world surely needs such stories.

1.  Terence Fredericks is the Chairman of the District Six Museum Foundation. He can be contacted c/o The District Six Museum, 25A Buitenkant St, Cape Town 8001, South Africa, PO Box 10178, Caledon Square, Cape Town 7905, South Africa, Tel/Fax: 27 (0) 21 461 8745.

See the excellent District Six Museum website: www.districtsix.co.za

Also the book:   Ciraj Rassool & Sandra Prosalendis (eds) 2001: Recalling Community in Cape Town: Creating and curating the District Six Museum. Cape Town: District Six Foundation.

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