‘Beyond the predictable’ — walking Soweto’s golden mile of memory, mine dust and hope

Our small but chatty group sets out from Ndofaya Chillas in Meadowlands, Soweto, on a crisp Saturday morning. This tavern was once the original home of Masike Lebele’s grandparents and it’s the start and end point of the hike. We are given water bottles, snacks and walking sticks, and a briefing from Lebele, who is tall and long-legged and looks like he could climb any mountain in a matter of strides.

“This is a spiritual and motivational hike,” he says. “It’s a new way of seeing Soweto, from above and beyond. It’s about a conversation.”

Lebele studied tourism and worked for various companies, including the Legacy group, when he hit on the idea of a unique Soweto hike.

“I wanted to take people out of their everyday lives,” he says, “to take them somewhere beyond the predictable.”

The hike is usually about five and a half kilometres, although we end up doing more than eight, due to curious minds, meandering feet and good conversation.

We head out along the main road, which still has some smouldering tyres and burnt-out debris from a recent service delivery protest – a reminder that politics is an inevitable subtext in this historic ’hood.

Meadowlands has long been politicised. This is where communities were dumped when they were forcibly removed from Sophiatown and Alexandra in the 1950s, including Lebele’s own grandparents.

We cross the road and head into a huge open area that has a wetland, a river and a dam that locals simply call the blue dam. It’s officially the Fleurhof Dam, and beyond we see the new Fleurhof housing estate, built for factory workers in the area. Before the housing estate, this was wilder, says Lebele.

“We used to play here in my childhood; we would hunt with our dogs for rabbit and guinea fowl.”

As we walk into the wetlands, we pass worshippers dressed in blue and white, we see someone kneeling at the edge of a spring, hear someone praying aloud to themselves.

“This is a holy land,” explains Lebele. “Because of the running water, people come to pray, to do baptisms and rituals. It’s a place of ancient African spirituality.”

We talk as we walk, about the dangers of living near an old mine dump – the toxic dust, the contaminated water. Lebele tells us that the municipality and mine are trying to rehabilitate the area by planting it with grass and trees.

“Aren’t you worried about walking in a toxic area?” I ask.

“We live here,” he replies.

There are ru­­mours, he says, that an Australian company plans to fix the mine, that a Chinese company wants to extract the remaining gold, that there are zama zamas (survival miners) who still work there. There are wisps of smoke in the distance, from fires made by nyaope addicts who burn wires in old rubber tyres for cash – about R5 a tyre. It’s a dirty job and bad for the environment.

We hear nearby sounds of blasting – from Maxam Dantex, an explosives company with Spanish shareholders. There is a gritty narrative to this hike.

We cross the road again and head up the mine dump, on a path leading through eucalyptus trees and scrubby grass. Lebele asks us each to pick up a stone to take on our hike. We climb high up the golden walls of the mine dump, reach a plateau and then walk down a steep path and enter a narrow canyon-like passage.

This is what Lebele calls the golden mile, created by erosion over the years. It is peaceful and cool; we are above the ground and within it at the same time. We see the nests of carmine bee eaters, we see owl feathers, we talk about beauty within chaos. Lebele tells us that this is where he got the original inspiration for a hike.

We stop for a break at a refreshment post and Lebele asks us to take out our stones that we have been carrying. “There is no other stone that is the same as yours,” he says. “We are all unique individuals, with our own dreams and aspirations.” We sit awhile, gently philosophising, and then put all our stones together in a pile and continue walking.

Eventually we get to the edge of the mine dump and are met with the most amazing views – Meadowlands below, the painted cooling towers beyond – and we hear the far-off sounds of Saturday morning.

It’s a steep clamber downhill and we walk through the neighbourhood, past car washes, hair salons, spaza shops. By the time we arrive at Ndofaya Chillas again, and wrap our hands around a cold Soweto Gold beer, we are exhilarated. What a memorable and thought-provoking adventure. DM

Contact Masike Lebele on 082 717 4816; R200 per person includes water, stick and snacks.

This story first appeared in our weekly Daily Maverick 168 newspaper, which is available countrywide for R35.