Diepsloot resident Rhulani Shilowa, 42, feels like she’s reached breaking point.
She moved to Johannesburg from Giyani more than 15 years ago in search of a better life — but she hasn’t found it.
At one time Shilowa made a living as a domestic worker, but for the past two years she has battled to find work.
She lives in Diepsloot Ext 11, where load-shedding hasn’t had much impact. Residents never had electricity to start with.
“I had big plans when I arrived here. I wanted to build a better future for my family,” said Shilowa, who has four surviving children after one of her sons and two of his friends drowned last year while swimming in a river. There are no parks for children to play in.
“I have been praying to God for things to improve but nothing is coming right. I’m at a point where I’m about to give up. I have no strength left. I look at my children and feel like I’ve failed them.”
Outside her three-roomed shack, her daughter, aged 3, plays with a neighbour’s child. Her son, 14, sits on a pile of building blocks. He isn’t in school because the transfer card from his previous school in Limpopo has yet to arrive.
Shilowa’s husband is also unemployed and they survive on child support grants.
“What kind of life is this where one even struggles to get a job as a domestic worker? I’m not looking for something fancy. I just want a job that would make it possible for me to give my children a better life and be able to feed them without stressing,” she said.
“Our section is not electrified. We are without power at all times, so we don’t understand what load-shedding is. I experience it when I go to the shops.”
They rely on a communal tap for water.
When President Cyril Ramaphosa delivers his state of the nation address this week, Shilowa wants him to come up with solutions.
“I don’t expect him to come to tell us that jobs will be created. He needs to tell us how those jobs will be created. We’ve heard too many promises and it’s time for action,” she said.
“But I don’t think these speeches help. The speech means little to me when most of the things he'll be speaking about are a dream for me, things like electricity.”
Across the road from Shilowa’s home, in Ext 3, there are RDP houses but residents are equally disgruntled.
Maki Nkosi, 34, is a backyard tenant in Jabulani Street, where she lives with her partner and eight-year-old daughter. Conditions are “not ideal”.
Nkosi has a diploma in business administration. But she has lost count of how many times she has sent out CVs. “Now I’ve given up. I’ve reached a point where I’m no longer applying for jobs.”
She earns some income plaiting neighbours’ hair.
Down the road, Nqobile Zulu is studying for a degree in marketing and works part-time at a store in the local mall. She says criminals in the area often take advantage of the frequent power cuts, which sometimes last beyond load-shedding.
“Sometimes we go for almost a week without electricity and that makes it difficult to plan our lives. Sometimes that affects my studies,” she said.
Zulu lives in a room behind her parents’ house with her four-month-old son.
She hopes Ramaphosa will come up with a solution to unemployment.
“This year is the final year of my studies. I keep wondering if I will get a job or join the ranks of unemployed graduates,” she said.
Three houses away, Jessica Kanzi, 29, rents a backroom she shares with her boyfriend and two children. She’s been looking for a job for more than five years.
“I still have hope that I will get something one day. So many malls have opened in the area and I did send my CV, but I didn’t get any feedback. Not even a call to attend an interview. I’ve never been to an interview,” she said.
She also wants Ramaphosa to solve the unemployment crisis.
Next door, Ryan Ncube runs a small business installing DStv dishes, gate motors and CCTV cameras. The business has been hard hit by load-shedding, he says.
“I don’t get to see as many clients like I used to. Sometimes I get to a client, then the power goes off. Then I have to wait for the power to come back. Petrol is very expensive, and sometimes I make fruitless trips,” Ncube said.
He lives in a backroom with his unemployed wife. Their three children live in Polokwane with his parents. His main concern is how much money he is able to send home every month.
His message to Ramaphosa is that he must stop load-shedding and keep the price of petrol in check.
Ncube’s landlady Lizzy Malatsi, who is supporting two of her grown-up children who don’t have work, survives on the rent from her four tenants. She wants Ramaphosa to “sort out the crime and see to it that young people are employed”.
Around the corner in Solidarity Street lives Philemon Khoza, a clerk at the local police station, who shares a two-bedroom house with his wife and two children. His three backrooms all have tenants.
He hopes Ramaphosa can come up with a permanent solution to load-shedding and growing unemployment.
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