First published in the Daily Maverick 168 weekly newspaper.

It was time for Mama Sisulu to have some flowers. That’s what Marina Walsh thought standing at the Sisulus sculpture in downtown Johannesburg, ready to give the public artwork she created 12 years ago a bit of a facelift and a clean-up.

She was commissioned to create the piece that is installed at the intersection of Diagonal, Ntemi Piliso and Market streets, across the road from where Walter Sisulu’s legal practice once was. Walsh depicted the Sisulus in their later years, facing each other, their hands touching, their bodies in a closed loop of intimacy, making the struggle stalwarts’ story also one of lifelong devotion.

The beloved sculpture is an urban Jozi icon, but over the past few years it’s taken a beating, much like the other public art in Johannesburg. Public artworks, including The Sisulus, regularly get used as pee posts and places to dump rubbish.

They can also be easy targets for tags and vandalism. The changing whims and political musical chairs in the city have meant preserving public art has slipped down the priority list. Maintenance and general upkeep are also more wishful thinking than reliable schedules.

But complaining and waiting for authorities to get their act together is reserved for those prepared to bang their heads on brick walls. That’s not Walsh, nor Sarah Barret, city tour guide at Joburg 360 who alerted Walsh to the weary state of the sculpture.

Together with Barret Gerald Garner of JoburgPlaces, Walsh packed her wash cloths and waxes and headed down town. Once there, she decided that Mama Sisulu’s dress needed some bright orangey-red blossoms.

“I think everybody needs a new dress sometimes, that’s why I painted the flowers for her.

“This is about the third time over the years that I’ve come to give this work a clean-up and a polish. We tend to think that things will need a big repair but sometimes it’s just a bit of a wash. It’s very symbolic of Joburg; things get broken down but we just need to pick them up again.

“Every time I think that polishing and cleaning the sculpture is going to be a bit of a chore but when I get there and start waxing and fixing I get inspired all over again by passers-by who stop just to say thank you,” she says.

Marina Walsh, the sculptor behind the Sisulus statues in downtown Johannesburg. (Photo: Joburg 360 / Sarah Barret)

Joburg can be a tough city to love, but tougher to ignore. And for a big city that’s still cycling through Covid-19 lockdowns, it’s the small acts that count. It’s showing up, not to change the world or make a social media fuss – but just to grow the good.

Returning some of the good to Kliptown was a must for street artist Senzo Nhlapo, aka Senzart911. So much had been taken away from the Kliptown taxi rank during the civil unrest and looting in July.

As a creative entrepreneur, it pained him that many small businesses in the areas were looted and destroyed and still face enormous odds to rebuild.

In early August he didn’t hesitate to join a group of other artists who volunteered their time and talent to restore and revive parts of the rank in the Soweto suburb.

“Kliptown is the home of the Freedom Charter. This is the heart of Soweto where the founders of Soweto gathered; we couldn’t let it be left in that condition,” Nhlapo says.

His art features eyes and patterns of eyes. For him it borrows inspiration from African masks but also an isiZulu saying that loosely translates as “people are one when we see through the same eyes”.

“The eye represents our vision as a community, the unity we can have when we stand together and when we see each other,” he says.  

Seeing each other, for Kensington local Sue Retallack, is also about not hiding behind high walls and electric fences, which is how suburban Jozi retreats. It’s literally taking the good to the streets.

Retallack is the person behind the non-profit called Clean Village that now includes directors Andre Grobler and James Donaldson.

Four years ago Retallack was on a mission to remove the eyesore “penis enlargement” and “bring back lost lovers” stickers plastered over electric boxes and lamp posts in the suburbs.

“It was like one day I suddenly noticed the deterioration and the litter so I started cleaning up the streets and pavements of Kensington. If you wait for the City to do it you’ll wait till you die,” she says.

Sue Retallack of the non-profit Clean Village in Kensington, Johannesburg. (Photo: Felix Dlangamandla)

A homeless man, who saw her working, offered to help even though she could only pay him a small stipend at the time. Together they worked for about a year until others started noticing and urged her to set up Clean Village as a non-profit, calling for donations from other residents.

“Our motto has always been that we are not going to talk about it, whinge about the council not doing their jobs and we’re not going to wait for donations either – we clean with what we have.

“Deep down I knew that what I was doing was making a difference and I believed that if I showed people the difference that some work and some effort can make then they would contribute gladly,” she says.

Her contagious can-do spirit caught on and the before-and-after pictures she posted saw donations coming in. Clean Village uses 100% of the donations to pay the salaries of the cleaning crew that now comprises four full-time employees.

They’re also the people who keep tabs on broken water pipes, clogged-up stormwater drains, illegal dumping and other basic upkeep checklist items for standard suburban maintenance. And if Retallack has her way, she’s going to expand her hobby of mosaicking kerbside drains inlets throughout the neighbourhood.

Kennedy Tembo takes pensioners on hikes at The Wilds in Houghton, Johannesburg. (Photo: Felix Dlangamandla)

Doing good comes down to personal choice, says Kennedy Tembo. For the past four years Tembo has given up three hours every Tuesday morning to lead a 5km hike with senior citizens through The Wilds, the sprawling green lung at the bottom end of Houghton.

“It started with a clean-up and hike on Saturdays but then my weekends got filled up. Sitting in the bathtub one day I thought about who’s around most weekdays and realised it was probably senior citizens, so I decided to start the walking group for them,” he says.

Tembo is a fitness fanatic and a five-times Comrades competitor, but he has one rule and that is that the seniors set the pace on their walks. He also splits up the walk so those who can’t finish the full 5km have the mercy of an escape route.

“I love nature and I love hiking and I go to the Drakensberg a lot, but this park is right on my doorstep – it’s what we have in Joburg and the more we use our parks the less dangerous they will feel,” he says.

The group is at least 20 walkers strong under lockdown restrictions and the regulars have become his “favourite people” and “my coffee community”, he says.

Guiding the walks is giving back for Tembo. Arriving to walk together is action to change perceptions of no-go zones in the city, to break down the divides of “us and them”, and to challenge the myth that aggression and short fuses define all people caught up in the concrete jungle.

Tembo has lived in Joburg since arriving from Malawi in 1995; this is home. He says: “You choose which side you’re on. You can be pissed off all the time and see only the negative; but I chose this city that I love and I choose its people.” DM168

This story first appeared in our weekly Daily Maverick 168 newspaper which is available for R25 at Pick n Pay, Exclusive Books and airport bookstores. For your nearest stockist, please click here.