February 11, 2003
By Lucille Davie
YOU don't normally go to church to get up and jive to the sounds of the Sophiatown Sax duo, but on Sunday the sprightly grey-haired ladies in the Christ the King Anglican Church looked like 1950s ravers.
There were two numbers from the Sophiatown Sax duo, consisting of Harry Davids on sax and Hendry Merckel on keyboards, and as soon as the first note was hit, women moved swiftly between the pews to the only available "dance floor" in the front, and, with broad smiles and wriggling bottoms, jived to the jazz. The occasion was the Sophiatown Heart & Soul Interfaith Spiritual Gathering, held at the church on 9 February in Sophiatown.
Even though the purpose was to commemorate the sad removal of residents from the suburb in 1955, there were happy moments in the almost three-hour, moving ceremony.
It's a simple, medium-sized church, with a tall bell tower and brown brick walls, set in large grounds. The interior walls are whitewashed brick, with arch shapes running down either side of the church. A row of windows with blue and pink windows at the top lets in a gentle light, offset by the coir matting on the floor. The nave has a simple cross on its white wall.
Fierce anti-apartheid campaigner and fervent Anglican priest Trevor Huddleston used to preach there.
The church was crowded - with some 300 people attending the service, many ex-Sophiatown residents.
The service started with rousing songs from the choirs - the Isiphephelo Choral Society and the Christ the King choir - with much clapping and audience enjoyment. It was a full programme: Land Claims Court judge president Fikile Bam, an ex-Sophiatown resident, gave two views of five years of life in the suburb: a bird's eye view and a worm's eye view.
He said Sophiatown had a reasonably decent infrastructure, and all the roads were tarred. The bus and tram fare to town was one penny. In 1949 the fare increased to a tickey (three pennies), and there was a riot.
And the on-the-ground view: "There were lots of crippled people returning from World War 2. Whites got land on their return, blacks got bicycles," he explained.
Bam asked his various teachers in the audience to stand up - they gave happy smiles and waves.
The mayor's speech was read out by Council Speaker Nandi Mayathula-Khoza, and she quoted him saying: "The City of Johannesburg is determined that the memories of Sophiatown will continue; we will preserve the history of Sophiatown."
Representatives of various denominations gave their messages of solidarity: Rabbi Avidan, Imaam Johannese from the Muslim Commjnity, and Koki Singh from the Hindu Community. Singh pointed out that the Hindu temple in Sophiatown was demolished, but he concluded: "Let's not bear a grudge." Their messages were interspersed with the reading of a Don Mattera poem, a moment of silence and an interfaith message from the Reverend Canon Luke Pato.
Regional Director of region 4 (where Sophiatown is situated), Lawrence Boya, said: "We will not forget the spirit of Sophiatown, we will move forward in a spirit of solidarity in reconnecting to our past."
The jiving ladies of Sophiatown, reliving the 1950s
Region 4 has initiated the Sophiatown Heart & Soul Project, with the aim of celebrating the "historical and cultural legacy (of Sophiatown) through cultural, artistic and educational events", and to provide "an opportunity for former Sophiatown residents to relive their experiences and to tell their own stories".
Boya made it clear that Sunday's event was to also "honour and recognise the contribution of the former Sophiatown residents in shaping present day Johannesburg".
The ceremony ended with candle lighting - everyone had been given a candle on entry to the church - and a solemn march of the congregation outside to the back of the church to lay a wreath on the large, unmarked stone under which Huddleston's ashes lie. Sally Motlana, an ex-Sophiatown teacher who also worked closely with Huddleston, laid the wreath.
A feast had been laid out but was soon demolished, amidst much handshaking, backslapping and reminiscences.
Sixty-eight year old Tiny Nkoana, who used to live in Gibson Street, said of the ceremony: "It touched me, it moved my feelings like we were moved in 1955."
Almost an hour later the church was empty, the last cars were moving away, and Huddleston's stone was bare again, except for the colourful wreath.
