Robert Ascherman
Abahlali baseMjondolo (Shack Dwellers) Movement South Africa
South Africa
Back home in Alabama when I explained to people that I was going to spend two months in South Africa to work with Abahali baseMjondolo, the country’s largest social movement, the typical response was, “Oh, like mission work. That’s so great of you. I really want to go on a mission too.” No! This is not mission work. The Shack Dwellers don’t need to be saved, nor preached to, nor my charity or voluntary labor, and it is not so great of me to “give up my time.”
There is an assumption that the poor can not think for themselves, or lead themselves or have knowledge to share with others. It is assumed that all of that is a role to be filled by the wealthy. My time here is in complete defiance of that notion. I came here to learn from the Shack Dwellers.
The first activist campaign I worked on was to force NYU to stop doing business with Chase Bank until it offered principle reduction to home owners. Through predatory and racist loans targeting those who are often the least financially literate, Chase is the leader of evictions in New York State. The interest rate of home loans for poor people before the sub-prime mortgage crisis often started very low, with rates around 3-5%, but in the fine print increased after a few months to 10, 20, or 30%. Principle reduction, or reducing the amount due on the house to the value of just the home (i.e., the principle) before adding interest, is a more socially responsible practice to keep people in their homes and reverse the effect of gentrification. Moreover, the campaign was a starting point for articulating the fact that there are more vacant homes than homeless people in America, and this point of political education enabled us to stand in solidarity not just with those on the verge of losing their homes but also with those who were already homeless.
During this time I was not only learning about principle reduction and vacant homes but I also first learned about Abahlali basemJondolo by watching the documentary “Dear Mandela,” which features the movement’s struggle against the Slums Act, a bill that would have made evictions of the Shack Dweller’s settlements legal (although they still constantly face illegal evictions). After watching the documentary, I knew that I wanted to apply for NYU Gallatin’s Global Human Rights Fellowship so that I could spend time with Abahlali. I also knew that I wanted to live in a Shack Dwellers’ settlement in order to best integrate myself with Abahlali. I wanted to experience the conditions the Shack Dwellers face both good and bad, happy and sad.
Although I’m not the first student to spend time with Abahlali, this decision to live in the shacks appeared to shock many people. They impressed upon me numerous times that “it is not nice here,” and this statement is objectively true. Many Dwellers have no electricity and for those who do, it is rationed. Candles easily catch shacks on fire and also easily can fall over, as I witnessed last night. (Fortunately no harm occurred, although it landed on top of a curtain that looked very flammable. Likewise the scorch marks of previous shacks are still quite visible.) Queuing for water takes a significant amount of time and although the Shack Dwellers have tapped into the main water line, access is often limited. The two latrines that serve countless people smell unbearably and although it is not mosquito season my hands have more red bite marks than unbitten areas of skin (about 54 bites on one hand after just the first night). Finally, the sound of babies coughing at night is heart rending each time. There is no close hospital; all of them are far away, ambulances can’t enter the settlements, and often ambulance drivers won’t even come to where the settlements meet the road.
Nevertheless, the Dwellers are hopeful because of Abahlali. During my first night one of the Dwellers cautioned me quite strictly that I must not go out alone at night. I inquired if that was true in the Abahlai areas as well. She responded, “Oh yes, this is Abahlali area. I feel very safe here.” Earlier that day at the Youth Day Political Education meeting, my translator and host Ndabo told me that Abahlali is on a path between life and death. But to me as far as I can tell from my conversation that evening, Abahlali is the path from death to life.