The road leading into the Kwesine-Bayafuthi hostel complex is a no man's land. Many of the houses lining the empty street in Katlehong township 20 miles southeast of Johannesburg (map, Page 36) are burned out, their windows smashed, roofs caved in and walls scorched black. Those still standing are pocked by bullet holes. A sign at the end of the street tells the story: WELCOME TO THE WAR ZONE.
"Sarajevo Section," the nickname for the area surrounding the two hostels, has been quiet since the South African Defense Force was deployed in the area in mid-January. Throughout the greater Johannesburg area known as the Reef, most of the conflicts between Inkatha-supporting hostel dwellers and ANC backers in the surrounding communities have been dormant for more than a year. But with the imposition of a state of emergency in Natal and tensions high after last week's bloody march through central Johannesburg by Zulu hostel dwellers, fears are rife that violence could explode again.
None of the Reef's 53 hostels has seen more violence than Katlehong's Bayafuthi. In 1993 the two-story compound was the eye of a hurricane of murder and mayhem that left 1,800 people dead in Katlehong and the adjoining townships of Thokoza and Vosloorus. The primary conflict was between hostel dwellers and ANC vigilantes known as Self-Defense Units. But criminals and rogue members of the police's Internal Stability Unit added to an atmosphere of anarchy.
On a recent evening, however, the scene inside Bayafuthi was one of normalcy. In the dusty courtyard of one of the compounds, men worked on their cars, children skipped rope and sangomas (female Zulu herbalists) sold the roots and plants to make the muti potions that ward off evil spirits, bad luck and bullets. After dark, the men and a few women retreated to communal kitchens or raucous illegal taverns known as shebeens where they drank, danced and smoked dagga, a potent strain of marijuana grown on the hillsides of their native Natal.
Command and control. Like most hostels, Bayafuthi is organized on traditional Zulu military lines. At the top of the hierarchy is the chief induna (headman). Beneath him are lesser indunas representing the different regions of Natal from where hostel dwellers come. These men are each in charge of an impi (regiment) that is then broken down into squadrons of amabutho (warriors). According to Anthony Minaar, who has studied hostels for Pretoria's Human Sciences Research Council, these age-old lines of command and control, which still prevail in rural Natal, are what makes the IFP such a potent military force.
The indunas claim they are victimized because of their adherence to traditional Zulu customs and beliefs and because of competition for scarce jobs with the more urbane Sothos, Xhosas and Tswanas who inhabit the surrounding townships. "We used to play soccer together, we used to dance together in the shebeens," induna Jeff Sibya says of the days before the war started, "but because of this political problem we began to hate each other."
Most feel the elections will not break the cycle of revenge and retribution that has entrapped both hostel dwellers and community residents. The ANC is expected to win nationally and in the Johannesburg region, and senior ANC officials are increasingly worried that township residents may try to tear down the hostels once the election results have been announced. Says induna Joseph Gwala: "It's civil war if they try that."
