Three decades after the birth of democracy and a stone’s throw from where the Freedom Charter was written, nine disadvantaged children from Kliptown, Soweto, and a blonde tour guide have found light in a place known for darkness.
Happy Kheswa, 17, Lungani Gasa, 18, Siyabonga Molefe, 18, Kamogelo Tsukudu, 15, Wandile Gasa, 18, Shane Stafford, 17, Mohau Matlosa, 16, Siyabonga Sibeko, 15 and Musa Yende, 17, initially accompanied tourists on walking tours through Kliptown with Gilda Swanepoel, the owner of Eenblond Tours.
The relationship blossomed and now they are in business together.
“I fell in love with Kliptown and its people. I also realised very quickly that these kids were special,” said Swanepoel.
En route to Kliptown she frets about having forgotten to buy a cake for one of the boys: “I always buy cake if one of them has a birthday.”
At the business stand some of the teens are waiting. One of them, Lungani Gasa, turned 18 the day before.
“My mother died in February. I see Gilda as my new mother. My eight brothers of Gobla Art feel the same way,” Gasa told the Sunday Times.
Swanepoel started visiting Kliptown five years ago.
“Kliptown was laid out in 1891 and became [known as] Kliptown in 1903, but they still mostly don’t have electricity,” she said.
“When Gilda started visiting here we just walked with her and the visitors and made sure they were safe. That is how we got to know Gilda,” explained Gasa.
A local from Kliptown taught them how to do screen printing on T-shirts and a future empire was born
— Gilda Swanepoel, owner of Eenblond Tours.
Swanepoel laughs.
“They are wonderful. I very quickly realised that there was little to no interaction between tour groups and the locals. Many guides even prohibited kids from dancing for the tourists and they only spent their money in certain well-known touristy places.”
Swanepoel wanted to do more than leave footprints and take photographs.
“In a safari situation that is great, but where humans are involved we need to have personal interactions.”
Toward the end of 2023 she discovered her unofficial “security guards” had learnt a new skill.
“A local from Kliptown taught them how to do screen printing on T-shirts and a future empire was born.” She decided to help the fledgling business get on its feet.
“I am not a wealthy person but I helped with buying stock where I could.”
The boys called their new venture “Gobla Art”.
“Kliptown is called Gobla locally. It means ‘the place of darkness’ because we don’t have electricity here,” said Kheswa.
“Gilda bought the stock we needed and we started renting a room in Kliptown for a shop.”
The landlord soon doubled the rent, which was initially R600 a month, and Gobla Art was left without a business home.
“If you can’t have a formal shop, you make a plan. So we erected a stall between the rundown Freedom Charter complex and the railway line. It is a humble beginning, but it is a beginning,” said Swanepoel.
“I realised very quickly that their world ends where Kliptown ends. I took them for a meal in Soweto’s Vilakazi Street. To my shock I found they had never been there. How can you be from Soweto and not have been to Vilakazi?”
Swanepoel started, personal finances permitting, and with donations from sponsors, to organise adventures for them.
“We took them swimming at Zoo Lake swimming pool, shopping in Rosebank and, best of all, we took them on an overnight trip to the Botongo Rhino and Lion Reserve near Krugersdorp,” she said.
Then eyes around the table grow wide.
“We fed a giraffe and swam in a swimming pool and a jacuzzi,” said Tsukudu. The highlight of the trip, while unexpected, was undisputed.
“Gilda made us form teams. She gave us ingredients and we played MasterChef. My team won with spaghetti bolognaise. That was so much fun. But these white people cook funny. They don’t use spices, they just put wine and milk in the food," said Tsukudu.
Gobla Art reached an important sales milestone last week and the teens celebrated with a braai at the home in Emmarentia shared by Swanepoel and her life partner Gabriel Chaulke.
“We saved up all the money we made selling shirts so we can buy our own stock. We had R4,000 altogether,” said Molefe.
Tsukudu laughs proudly.
“Our money is worth more in our business than in our pockets. We plan to grow this brand. We dream to bust out across the globe and around the world. We want to feel like Nike.”
For now, they sell their self-printed T-shirts, a few sweets, cigarettes and rolling papers from a ramshackle stall in Kliptown, but if their spirit is anything to go by, greater things are in store.
• Consent was obtained to identify the teens under the age of 18.
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