Alex gaan bly

Some people are wacky or let’s say crazy. Ama let’s assume they are just being Kenyans. Certain queer characters you only meet in the streets of Nairobi. On that Saturday, I was in town running some errands. Something was trending in the bird App about Alex. I first heard of Alex in Trevor Noah's book 'Born a crime' - not long ago. Last year probably. Quite a juicy name of a place. A place that was the exact reverse of what you would envision Alex to be. A poky, poor, black township in Johannesburg. It is surrounded by wealthier white areas, which is actually the major reason it cannot expand, unlike other towns like Soweto.

About the trend, there were some killings in Alex. I wanted to peruse through the tweets to see what happened.  Such happenings are not new in Alex. It's a breeding place of chaos as is known in South Africa. One killing another to survive, quite normal in poverty-stricken hoods.  After scrolling a few tweets, I wanted to read more about Alex. There was something more interesting than what met the eyes. So, I walked into this matatu, well satisfied that I had accomplished what I came to do in town. I was in grey pants and a black cap. In my left hand was an envelope. These brown envelopes. On my right was my phone held tightly. Not taking chances you know... 

There were a few people in the matatu. A woman in a yellow dress and a middle aged man in a bishop attire. A few seats from the back was a gentleman and a lady. His girlfriend I suppose, but most probably a someone else's... I think I heard something… so I sat right behind them to poke my nose a little more. They were quiet for a moment before settling on a different topic so I decided to read about Alex.

Alex township came to existence more than a century ago. It was named after a woman Alexandra, whose farmer-husband was the founder. It has a long history of suffering under the apartheid government. Despite being surrounded by wealthy suburbs, Alexandra remained poverty stricken for over 100 years.  

However, many residents believe that the past will not hold them back, and that there is much more hope for the future. The Presidential Alexandra Renewal Project has helped to lift the community in recent years, and billions have been spent to improve the town's infrastructure. The community is infused with an entrepreneurial spirit, with spaza shops, street vendors, and informal businesses flourishing.

Moments later the matatu was full and we were leaving town. My elbow was still crossed on the window to shield my phone from other parties of interest in the streets. I was sitting with my back almost fully leaning on the window. A guy almost my age passed by and told me, 'ukona na ngepa Kali bro' 

These were his exact words, he couldn't help but admire my cap. I wondered what is it that makes a cap look outstanding or the guy was just cooking a convo with me.

'Shukran,' I told him 

He had a cap too so I told him, ' Ata yako imeweza bro' 

But no, it wasn't as nice. For real it wasn't. No hard feelings. I now know what actually makes a cap look nice. It was a somehow old cap, that type with a protruding forehead. The one Kikuyu men fancy. And it was purplish- greyish. Just for the record, I gave the complement to save myself from learning how maybe God didn't create my nose properly. Those people have no chills. 

I went back to Alexandra,

Alex has units where tapered alleyways distinct overcrowded shacks, co-habited with goats and cows that scratch for food in the heaps of garbage. In other areas, there are story hostels or brightly painted blocks of flats; and then there are the typical South African suburban streets and houses with high walls and pretty pavement gardens.

The history of Alex is nothing but beautiful, not the heritage sites, not the climate and finest of all, encounter the folks by chatting to boulevard vendors. Not to mention the local beer joints so-called shebeens, gyrating to the native Kwaito music and trying out the cuisine. You could also find a cure for your illness at one of traditional medicine mens’ shops. I hear they are very effective.

The matatu started moving, the twosome in front of me was now talking about a tiktoker who cooks and eats bats, lizards and cockroaches. They must have overstated it a little bit. I felt like jumping into the conversation because I also had a glimpse of the story, it was only a bat at that time. I never heard of lizards. I decided to mind my own business anyway. So I went back to Alex....

I was not even done with the first sentence when suddenly my cap flew off my head. It happened so fast that I only felt a cool breeze sweep my head followed by a thin figure running away. Next was a ‘Shiiiiit!!’ from the guy infront of me in whose conversation I was eavesdropping. Quick thoughts clashed in my mind making me more confused, my mouth in an O shape and spinning my head left -right.  I thought of shouting at him but shouting would do more harm than good. I thought of alighting and chasing him, but he would be long gone then and the matatu would obviously not wait for me. I would have lost twice. I chose to let go. 

I didn't give myself time to jeremiad, this was crazy. I sat back and took a deep breath before something landed on my head.  He didn't get it right this time. He didn't fix it on my head well enough so it fell on the road, the purplish- greyish cap. I didn't know it was actually some kind of a coerced barter trade. He was almost run over by the matatu. He jumped away and was there waving a goodbye with my cap on his head. This was becoming an expensive joke. I decided to shut my window and waved back at him. I felt bad he was going unscathed so I opened the window and showed him the middle finger. I think he won anyway, my neck was hurting and my cap was gone.

I didn’t read about Alexandra again till later that day.

Alexandra has an amusing history and is home to cultural icons, activists, and sporting figures, distinguishing the township as one of Johannesburg's cultural hotspots. It is home to musicians such as Zulu Boy Cele and his Jazz Maniacs, Zakes Nkosi, Ntemi Piliso, Dark City Sisters, Miriam Makeba and Boet Gashe. And there's something about Dark City Sisters, something very interesting. 

Today, despite extreme poverty, Alex's people are smiling, laughing, and living a life filled with art, poetry, music, humour, and the profound joy of simply being alive. There’s much more about Alex than we can write. Most important is that Alex survived the apartheid. From the slogan Alexandra gaan bly which meant Alexandra will remain.

We live in a world where we don’t see the ramifications of what we do to others, because we don't live with them. If we could see one another's pain and empathize with one another, it would never be worth it to us to commit the crimes in the first place. Alex will remain and I'll continue missing my cap.