I am a “recovering” Joburger living in Hong Kong. Yet I remain fiercely proud of this South African city and the resilient, industrious people who call it home.
I have family here. I own property here. Most importantly, I belong to a community here that I treasure and feeds my soul.
For more than a decade Brixton has been my base. It is a unique Johannesburg neighbourhood, just minutes from the CBD, surrounded by universities, colleges and hospitals, and home to parks with stunning views of the city.
Above all, it is a feisty and generous place, fiercely protective of our culture of community and shared sense of belonging.
Like every neighbourhood, Brixton has its own challenges. Break-ins and street crime will never disappear because university students remain particularly vulnerable targets. We’re not strangers to power outages or water supply throttling when upgrades to infrastructure happen. Despite these difficulties, Brixton remains both gritty and remarkable. Its people are warm, welcoming and deeply caring.
It is what we miss most while living in Hong Kong. It is what we long for whenever we return to visit family and friends. We always return to our Brixton, our Johannesburg, whenever we visit.
This visit, however, has been different.
Undeniable deterioration
We’ve witnessed an undeniable deterioration of our beautiful city and neighbourhood in just seven months since our last visit for a neighbour’s wedding. There are dangerously uncovered manholes that pose a risk to children who still play in the streets.
Exposed electrical wires signal illegal power connections, and while loadshedding may be behind us, economic hardship remains. In our parks, children have learned to weave around broken beer bottles and dirty nappies discarded beside overflowing bins.
These problems are serious, but we can fix them. We’re used to doing community Park Day clean-ups.
What troubled me most was not the state of the infrastructure. It was witnessing the steady erosion of our people’s dignity and the deprivation of water remains the hardest reality to accept.
Brixton overlooks three major reservoirs, including a recently completed one that stands as an imposing but mocking monument above the community. Most of us go to bed without water. Families ration every flush. A warm bath on a cold winter evening has become a near unattainable luxury. The cruel irony is impossible to ignore.
Our taps run dry. Asinamanzi (we don’t have water). And with it, our dignity seems to disappear too.
People are exhausted, defeated
Our neighbourhood WhatsApp group reflects the clearest signs of this crisis. Once filled with anger, complaints, demands and frustration about water shortages, it has become noticeably quieter. People are exhausted. They are defeated.
The conversation is no longer about how to solve the problem or about supporting neighbours who organise and pressure officials. Instead, we bicker over water tanker schedules and speculate about who might be paying to have JoJo tanks filled while others go without. Or worse, we’re insulting one another and betraying years of goodwill and cooperation. A dangerous resignation has set in.
For me, the sight of residents queuing for water still knocks the air out of my chest.
My heart breaks when I see our elderly neighbours and young children waiting anxiously for water tankers that often do not arrive. Neighbours speak about the ache of seeing disappointment etched across people’s faces when they have to return home carrying empty buckets and jerry cans.
People stand, and sometimes sit, for hours in the freezing winter cold. University students, mothers, pensioners, teenagers and children should be safe and comfortable in their homes, not negotiating their lives around unpredictable water deliveries.
This is not normal. This is indecent. This is inhumane.
Sies! That is what I find myself saying under my breath whenever I am confronted by these queues of my neighbours who are subjected to what is effectively humiliation ritual.
This has become an everyday lived experience for ratepaying homeowners and tenants alike. For Brixtonites who have long prided ourselves on our resilience and determination, for residents who have invested our energy, time and creativity into making this a vibrant corner of the city, we are tapped out.
How do we continue nurturing the spirit that gives us community-driven initiatives like the Brixton Festival of Lights or Brixton Beautiful Park Days when we are exhausted by a relentless water crisis.
Uncollected refuse
As degrading as life without reliable water has become, it is compounded by another ill-timed indignity: weeks of uncollected refuse. Residents are told a wildcat strike at Pikitup is to blame. Meanwhile, rubbish piles up outside homes and businesses. Some residents can afford to pay bakkie owners to remove their waste. Others cannot. For them, overflowing bins and growing piles of refuse have become part of daily life.
The smell hanging over our now filthy neighbourhood is not merely that of rotting rubbish. It is the smell of neglect and resignation.
The dry taps and mounds of waste speak of failed promises, poor governance, a mishandling of projects and a growing disregard for the dignity of ordinary residents.
Disgust and desperation alone will not change this reality. Most of us feel as though our backs are against the wall.
In a few days, my family and I will return to Hong Kong. Brixton will remain my home, but this time I leave with a very heavy heart. I leave knowing my community’s suffering will continue after I board that flight. Every time I open a tap in Hong Kong or see the orange dustbins cleared, I’ll be reminded of neighbours and family in Brixton going without these essentials.
We need better leaders
My heart is heavier still because I will not be here when Brixtonites and fellow Joburgers head to the polls for the local government elections in November.
If Brixton looks like this now, what will it look like in three months?
Today, too many parts of Johannesburg bear the scars of dysfunction: burst pipes, hazardous and abandoned pavement excavations, overflowing refuse and neighbourhoods struggling to maintain even the most basic standards of cleanliness and safety.
What worries me even more is the apparent absence of urgency and zero effort to reassure residents that progress is being made, or even the pretence of attention. It leaves me wondering whether city leaders or incumbent candidates have become as disillusioned as the people they serve or whether their apathy will go unchallenged.
Whoever is elected this time around will inherit a city in deep distress. The real question is whether they possess the competence, courage and compassion required to reverse the decline. Will they once again place a temporary bandage over Johannesburg’s deepening wounds, or will they finally commit themselves to the difficult, patient work of healing the city?
Will they restore not only infrastructure, but dignity?
Access to water is non-negotiable. Refuse removal is non-negotiable. These are not luxuries. They are the basic obligations of a functioning city where residents can feel like their lives are worth living and dreams are worth chasing.
Let’s go and vote.
As Joburger and more keenly as Brixtonite, I hope we will use our votes to reclaim our dignity and choose leaders with both the heart and expertise to put people first and restore the shine to our City of Gold.
We all deserve better. But we will only get better when we demand better leaders who can work with us so that they can also reclaim their dignity too.
- Themba is an award-winning journalist who has worked for leading news organisations, including SABC and eNCA. She is also the former spokesperson for the Police Ministry of South Africa. She is now based in Hong Kong.
- Brixton, a Johannesburg neighborhood, faces serious challenges including water shortages, uncollected refuse, and deteriorating infrastructure such as uncovered manholes and exposed electrical wires.
- Residents experience daily water rationing, with taps frequently running dry despite the area's proximity to three major reservoirs, leading to a loss of dignity and community exhaustion.
- Uncollected waste due to a wildcat strike at the Pikitup service has caused rubbish to pile up, creating both health hazards and a smell of neglect in the neighborhood.
- Community spirit in Brixton is weakening as residents' WhatsApp groups, once filled with proactive discussions, have devolved into bickering over water tanker schedules and accusations of favoritism.
- The author emphasizes the urgent need for competent, compassionate leadership in upcoming local government elections to address Johannesburg's deepening infrastructure and service delivery crises.
I am a “recovering” Joburger living in
I have family here. I own property here. Most importantly, I belong to a community here that I treasure and feeds my soul.
For more than a decade Brixton has been my base. It is a unique Johannesburg neighbourhood, just minutes from the CBD, surrounded by universities, colleges and hospitals, and home to parks with stunning views of the city.
Above all, it is a feisty and generous place, fiercely protective of our culture of community and shared sense of belonging.
Like every neighbourhood, Brixton has its own challenges. Break-ins and street crime will never disappear because university students remain particularly vulnerable targets. We’re not strangers to power outages or water supply throttling when upgrades to infrastructure happen. Despite these difficulties, Brixton remains both gritty and remarkable. Its people are warm, welcoming and deeply caring.
It is what we miss most while living in
We’ve witnessed an undeniable deterioration of our beautiful city and neighbourhood in just seven months since our last visit for a neighbour’s wedding.
Exposed electrical wires signal illegal power connections, and while loadshedding may be behind us, economic hardship remains. In our parks, children have learned to weave around broken beer bottles and dirty nappies discarded beside overflowing bins.
What troubled me most was not the state of the infrastructure. It was witnessing the steady erosion of our people's dignity and the deprivation of water remains the hardest reality to accept.
Brixton overlooks three major reservoirs, including a recently completed one that stands as an imposing but mocking monument above the community. Most of us go to bed without water. Families ration every flush. A warm bath on a cold winter evening has become a near unattainable luxury.
Our taps run dry. Asinamanzi (we don't have water).
Our neighbourhood WhatsApp group reflects the clearest signs of this crisis. Once filled with anger, complaints, demands and frustration about water shortages, it has become noticeably quieter. People are exhausted.
For me, the sight of residents queuing for water still knocks the air out of my chest.
My heart breaks when I see our elderly neighbours and young children waiting anxiously for water tankers that often do not arrive. Neighbours speak about the ache of seeing disappointment etched across people's faces when they have to return home carrying empty buckets and jerry cans.
People stand, and sometimes sit, for hours in the freezing winter cold. University students, mothers, pensioners, teenagers and children should be safe and comfortable in their homes, not negotiating their lives around unpredictable water deliveries.
Sies!
How do we continue nurturing the spirit that gives us community-driven initiatives like the Brixton Festival of Lights or Brixton Beautiful Park Days when we are exhausted by a relentless water crisis.
As degrading as life without reliable water has become, it is compounded by another ill-timed indignity: weeks of uncollected refuse. Residents are told a wildcat strike at Pikitup is to blame. Meanwhile, rubbish piles up outside homes and businesses. Some residents can afford to pay bakkie owners to remove their waste.
Disgust and desperation alone will not change this reality. Most of us feel as though our backs are against the wall.
In a few days, my family and I will return to
My heart is heavier still because I will not be here when Brixtonites and fellow Joburgers head to the polls for the local government elections in
If Brixton looks like this now, what will it look like in three months?
Today, too many parts of Johannesburg bear the scars of dysfunction: burst pipes, hazardous and abandoned pavement excavations, overflowing refuse and neighbourhoods struggling to maintain even the most basic standards of cleanliness and safety.
What worries me even more is the apparent absence of urgency and zero effort to reassure residents that progress is being made, or even the pretence of attention. It leaves me wondering whether city leaders or incumbent candidates have become as disillusioned as the people they serve or whether their apathy will go unchallenged.
Whoever is elected this time around will inherit a city in deep distress.
Will they restore not only infrastructure, but dignity?
Access to water is non-negotiable. Refuse removal is non-negotiable.
Let's go and vote.
As Joburger and more keenly as Brixtonite, I hope we will use our votes to reclaim our dignity and choose leaders with both the heart and expertise to put people first and restore the shine to our City of Gold.
We all deserve better. But we will only get better when we demand better leaders who can work with us so that they can also reclaim their dignity too.
The She South She Hong Kong
