Humble, hopeful Howick: the town powering its own revival

Howick is perfect for all the things it is not, pretentious being one of them. On Saturday, the main street has old-trading-post vibes, with farmers, second-hand dealers and coffee roasters doing business alongside chain stores.

The Midlands Meander, with its Nelson Mandela Capture Site, craft breweries and country eateries, offers a postcard version of the place, but the town itself is humbler and more grounded.

Howick is in the middle of the Meander. It is also the seat of the uMngeni Municipality, which services a vast, disparate area including Howick, wealthy nodes like Hilton and Nottingham Road, and poor, service-constrained Mpophomeni.

Howick is 124km from King Shaka International Airport. Turn off the N2 when you see Midmar Dam. A few roads lead into the town, some with less flattering views than others, giving a quick sense of the wealth disparity and governance challenges.

In 1849, the Brits established a town at the uMngeni River crossing and called it Howick because the secretary of state for the colonies, Earl Grey, had recently acquired the title of Lord Howick.

Fast-forward 176 years, and Howick and uMngeni are synonymous with the smart, young, white, gay, fluent isiZulu-speaking mayor, Chris Pappas. Howick residents are homespun: working-class and farming folk. Typically not wont to gush, they speak glowingly about Pappas.

Pharmacy worker Colleen Wilson made Howick her home 25 years ago: “It’s so pretty here. People are friendly. Pappas has cleaned up.”

Marius Wiese runs the Treatery at Yard 41, part of a series of beautiful buildings on the corner of Main Street and the Karkloof Road. Tourists scoff delicious fare and take in the 180m falls.

Howick is a launchpad for ziplining through the forest canopy, cycling, hiking and exploring endless quirky roadside stalls.

“Pappas is brilliant. Howick is utopia,” Wiese beams.

That’s a stretch for some, but the 34-year-old mayor must get credit. His approach to government has been influenced by a book called Making Massive Small Change: Ideas, Tools, Tactics: Building the Urban Society We Want by Kelvin Campbell. It advocates sustainable development through small-scale community interventions.

Pappas grew up locally, and his father sold animal feed. He is hands-on, inclusive and wary of grand schemes. He is a keen supporter of a hugely successful civic initiative. In 2016, pastor Matt Hogarty started a movement when he invited his neighbours to clean up their litter-strewn streets.

Called Love Howick, its motto is “together for transformation”, and it has since touched thousands of people through its job and outreach projects.

Howick’s popularity shows in property prices. Hayley Ivins-Downes, from the data company Lightstone, says house prices are steadily increasing. Compared with the KZN average, Howick properties sell quicker and for more. On average, more than 450 properties transfer in the town a year. Most sell for upwards of R1.5-million.

“The retirement sector is definitely a contributor to this, as is the growing civic pride and perceptions around good governance,” she says. Retirement complexes fuel a host of related businesses, many of which are medical in nature.

Ashika Haridutt works in a supermarket. She and her husband moved to Howick from Durban 14 years ago. “This place has grown so much since. I love it. It’s quiet. You get to chill here. However, it’s very expensive. I guess because of all the retired people.”

Nicky Gray is an insurance broker who has lived in Howick for 16 years. The town’s transformation and rising property prices have seen it move from a place for “the nearly dead to the newly wed”.

Gray is not blind to the challenges. There are potholes and some streetlights don’t work, but the town has a functioning fault-reporting system. She credits the collaboration between Love Howick, businesses and the municipality. “We live in an awesome community. While the number of residents has grown tremendously, Howick still has community spirit and genuine care. The municipality works tirelessly to ‘make progress together’ real.”

Thembelani Mkhize (33) is an artist who lives in Mpophomeni, about a 15-minute drive from Howick’s main street. “People are friendly here, everywhere. In winter, the dam and the river make Howick cold, but the people keep you warm. They enjoy talking to one another. It’s slower here. We have our problems. The economy isn’t a level playing field yet. Mpophomeni was created as a labour dormitory. We are a work in progress here, but we are moving forward.”

The town’s charm and the public enthusiasm are disarming: outsiders might smile at its sentimentality and occasional boosterism, but Howick is like the determined steam locomotive in the book The Little Engine That Could: it keeps on chuffing. Townsfolk muck in and dare to believe in a kinder, safer, more prosperous place.

Runners-up

In KZN, everything is determined by how far you are from King Shaka International Airport, in case you have to bolt because of a riot, more floods or some pestilence.

Salt Rock, 26km north of the airport, shines, even though it falls in the embattled KwaDukuza Municipality. If every day feels like a beach holiday, it’s probably because you have to have a trust fund to live here.

A cheaper alternative, 103km north of the airport and also on the beach, is Mtunzini. Locals crow about beaches, shady streets, mangrove boardwalks and splendid birding.

If being north of the Tugela makes you tetchy, Pennington (104km south of the airport) is also groovy, if a bit blue-rinse.

Last, but not least, in Underberg (234km from the airport) yokels live in the shadow of the majestic Drakensberg mountains. Not much to complain about beyond a bit of winter frostbite and the odd Basotho cattle raider, which makes Underbergers happy hicks who “get stuck in”, often rescuing lost animals and hippie stoners from Splashy Fen or hikers hobbling down the Sani Stagger. DM

This story first appeared in our weekly DM168 newspaper, available countrywide for R35.