Carlo Petersen
IT IS the stuff utopian dreams are made of: children of all races, religions and cultural backgrounds playing happily together in bustling streets covered in leafy archways.
However, for thousands of Capetonians the nostalgia conjured up by memories of living in Claremont and its surrounds is still very much a reality, though a sometimes bitter one.
In the late 1800s, and well into the 1950s, much of Claremont – which in French means “clear mountain” – was a multiracial and religiously diverse community consisting of coloureds, whites, Indians and blacks.
Back in the “olden times”, properties in the area were sought after because, among other things, the suburb was close to a public-transport hub of buses and trains.
Terry-Jo Thorne has created a website www.clare monthistories.weebly.com to document some of the memories and experiences of people who had lived there before the forced removals began in the 1960s under the Group Areas Act. Neville Jackson, 69, lived at 3 Burnley Terrace in 1st Avenue along with his 14 cousins, all in one big house.
“There were advantages because there were always people to play with.
“And if you wanted to go to the Luxurama (Theatre), and the Lux showed the same show the whole week, you’d have a choice over which night you wanted to go.
“Perhaps on Monday night, three of you wanted to go, and Tuesday, maybe six wanted to go – there were always people to go with,” he said.
Carl Thorne, 54, recalls a memory of one forced removal.
“One day, a few of us were standing on the corner where Mr Rhoda stayed.
“It was about midday and Mr Rhoda had left to fetch his kids at school.
“A brown Toyota with a white driver and two coloured guys in the back comes cruising down the road.
“It was an official and two prisoners. They broke into Mr Rhoda’s house and started just carrying everything out on to his stoep.
“Mr Rhoda came home and, from a distance, he could see what was happening there.
“He was thinking, ‘What the hell is happening?’. And then the official had the audacity to buy antique furniture for a song from Mr Rhoda, because he had no place to store it.
“That was when I saw a grown man cry. And that scarred me for life.”
Former resident Dr Iqbal Survé said the way the removals became a reality to him was through sport.
“We used to play soccer at Pearly Park every Sunday before lunch.
I was a newspaper boy, and after selling all my newspapers I would run to the park.
“There were about 70 of us, mostly coloured, but I started noticing how that number decreased over the years.
“Towards the end, there were more white children coming to play in the park, and then they started playing rugby,” he said.
Dr Survé said he remembers how apartheid officials would visit his family’s shop and help themselves to various items, and then leave, saying “See you again next week”.
l Between 1995 and December 1998, there were 11 858 land claims lodged in the Office of the Regional Land Claims Commission, and now there are 1 368 outstanding claims, 9 944 settled claims and 546 non-compliant claims.