Municipalities need to focus on undeveloped areas so residents feel included and that they all matter, or risk sparking a backlash like that in Malamulele, writes Mcebisi Ndletyana.
Johannesburg - Upheavals in Malamulele must have been a source of worry to President Jacob Zuma as he prepared to address an expectant nation. He must have been troubled that some among us see the violent protests as an indictment of the liberation movement that the third decade of freedom would also witness popular outcries about basic services.
The scenes have been reminiscent of apartheid South Africa. The black youth have gone on the rampage, as if they have lost all hope in the future. This suggested hopelessness stands in contrast to the promise of freedom: to become all that our individual potential allows.
For a free people to behave as if they remain in bondage is worrisome. I’m less troubled, however, by the seeming hopelessness of freedom. It is a subjective, emotive state that needn’t be permanent.
How we address the root cause of the upheavals can revive hope. This is where my worry sets in. Politicians don’t always adopt the most effective policy interventions.
Often they shun policy measures that promise long-term results, and opt for those that offer immediate gratification, even when the supposed solution is not sustainable.
The prospect of averting political losses makes the short-term approach even more appealing. This is a pre-election year, and Zuma has used the State of the Nation address to kick-start the ANC’s election campaign for the local elections next year.
The stakes are high. It isn’t surprising, therefore, that the president has announced measures that may yield political capital rather than proving technically sound.
In politics such a choice is not entirely unwise. It buys more time in office, but threatens a long-term stay, as the problem is not completely resolved.
This means one should be more thoughtful about which approach to adopt.
Malamulele is instructive in this respect.
You will recall that the Municipal Demarcation Board decided against the application for Malamulele to become a separate municipality. It will remain part of the Thulamela Local Municipality, together with Thohoyandou and Sibasa, which is the source of the complaint that sparked the riots.
Protesters say the municipality cares more about the other towns than Malamulele. Service delivery is better there than in Malamulele. Other areas in Malamulele, protesters say, do not even experience services from the municipality.
This neglect has to do with the vastness of the municipality and the distant location of municipal offices. The seat of the municipal administration is Thohoyandou.
The complaint about Thohoyandou is not just about its distant location. It is also relates to the dominant ethnic identity in that town. Thohoyandou is predominantly Tshivenda-speaking and was the capital of the former homeland Venda.
Malamulele is largely Xitsonga-speaking, and was formerly part of Gazankulu, a homeland for Xissonga speakers.
The call for “secession” and demand for a “Tsonga” municipality therefore have an ethnic basis.
The Thulamela municipality, protesters allege, practises ethnic discrimination: against Tsongas and in favour of Vendas.
A careful study by the demarcation board revealed that the complaints were largely unfounded.
The proportion of households in Malamulele that have access to potable water is 85.3 percent and access to electricity, 84 percent, which is quite high by municipal standards.
However, the board did note a fairly high backlog, 20 percent, in access to sanitation in Malamulele compared with the rest of the municipality, where it is about 5 percent.
A similar unevenness was recorded with respect to the distribution of educational facilities. A sizeable number of pupils have to attend schools beyond the standard 5km radius of their homes.
In other words, there is an uneven provision of services in the Thulamela municipality.
This is different from neglecting Malamulele in favour of other areas.
Allegations of neglect are further disputed by patterns of expenditure on water reticulation and infrastructure upgrading. Malamulele has been a major recipient of funds allocated in the past three years or so.
Perhaps the most interesting finding was that Malamulele did not qualify to constitute a separate municipality.
As a separate municipality, Malamulele would certainly have a sizeable population – of more than 225 983 people – which would make it the ninth-biggest in Limpopo. But its low density would make the provision of services and efficient government difficult to achieve.
Malamulele’s socio-economic profile counts even more against its becoming a municipality. The area would not generate sufficient revenue to meet its operational needs.
This is a major consideration in constituting a municipality. The idea is to enable cross-subsidisation, with poorly resourced neighbourhoods being placed under the same municipal jurisdiction as wealthy residential areas.
The Thulamela municipality relies significantly on national grants: these cover 67 percent of its operating budget. A Malamulele municipality would be even more dependent, needing to receive a whopping 82 percent of its budget from the national government.
It doesn’t make sense for Malamulele to seek municipal status. It goes against the principle of financial sustainability.
The board’s decision to decline Malamulele’s request was sound. The application was without merit.
This doesn’t mean, however, that Malamulele’s complaints were meaningless. Although lacking factual basis, they are indicative of a sense of grievance. They are a statement of economic depression.
There is no economic activity of note in the area. Unemployment is at 49 percent, far beyond the provincial rate of 38.9 percent and the national rate of 25 percent.
Malamulele is simply crying out for assistance.
Folks there don’t understand why Thohoyandou and Shayandima are thriving, while they face dim economic prospects.
In the absence of any other explanation, they ascribe their marginality to ethnic chauvinism.
This is not surprising. Ethnic stereotypes abound. They were nurtured over 80 years of successive union and apartheid governments.
Our responsibility is to ensure that they don’t morph into political sentiments, forming the basis for political mobilisation.
This happens when people feel that their socio-economic circumstances differ from others. It all boils down to the quality of life.
Some residents of Uitenhage are making similar demands of the Nelson Mandela Bay Metro. They allege Uitenhage is being neglected by the metro council in favour of Port Elizabeth and want the town to have its own subcouncil. They even have to travel to Port Elizabeth to report service-related problems, and yet have to wait days for officials to come over from the city. Because they are also isiXhosa-speaking they don’t ascribe their problems to ethnicity but to regionalism. They say Port Elizabeth people just don’t take their small town seriously.
We have to create a sense of inclusion. These municipal boundaries are new, and old parochial identities haven’t melted away.
Residents have to see themselves in the new municipal administrations and be made to feel that they all matter. This is achieved by focusing on undeveloped municipal areas. Unevenness is a source of a lingering grievance that is likely to spark other Malamuleles and Uitenhages. Secession is not the answer – it perpetuates uneven development.
* Ndletyana is head of the political economy faculty at the Mapungubwe Institute for Strategic Reflection (Mistra).
** The views expressed here are not necessarily those of Independent Media
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