At Home with Apartheid: The Hidden Landscapes of Domestic Service in Johannesburg

Four: Come in the Dark

112 FoUr come in the dark Dark, cloudy nights were best. Or those evenings when the moon was so new it appeared as a tiny sliver against the black sky. Wind, too, was good, because howling and the sound of branches scraping on window panes could drown out other noises, like the squeak of a rusty gate turning on worn hinges or the tread of a man’s heavy footsteps on the driveway paving. He would walk slowly past the side of the house. If master had parked the car in the driveway, its bulky shape might provide a useful cover. Now he could be seen neither from the bedroom window nor, on the other side, by the elderly neighbor whose allergies kept her awake at all hours. Stop. Wait several seconds. Make sure the coast is clear. Rise slowly on haunches and continue past the car into the backyard. Careful not to trip over toys or bikes. The white children often throw their things about. Watch out for dog shit, invisible against the dark grass. Past the jacaranda. There is just enough light from the stars to faintly illuminate its purple blossoms, shining white now. The scent from the moonflower means his destination is near. Around this clump of shrubs is the back room entrance. Was that movement in the house? Crouch beside the bushes, quickly. More waiting. But, no, it is nothing. Perhaps madam snores louder than come iN tHe dArk 113 usual tonight. She is a noisy sleeper, but a heavy one. To be safe, though, he does not rise to his feet, but crawls on the moist ground the remaining few feet to the back room door. “Meow.” Just once, very softly. He does not wait long. She opens to admit him, and the aroma of the dinner she has placed on a tin plate in the corner greets him, along with her relieved smile. Hours later, as they lie together on her narrow bed, they hear a faint whistle carried by the wind from a cluster of trees on the other side of the brick wall that backs her employers’ property. They smile knowingly at one another in the stillness. Another couple is about to be reunited. Such scenes replayed throughout the Northern Suburbs during the apartheid years. As the government undertook drastic, often violent action to protect cities from the incursion of “superfluous” Africans, men, women, and children continued to quietly make their way to South Africa’s cities. The cracks and fissures through which they eased themselves into urban life consisted not only of the legal loopholes and lapses in policing that gave many opportunity and grounds to stay. Rural migrants also achieved their toeholds in urban society by literally squeezing between bushes, ducking under benches, and flattening themselves against the sides of houses. Their goals were domestic workers’ quarters, the single most important stations on the underground railroad—a fitting image—that carried tens of thousands of African migrants into the city. The stream of migrants who insinuated themselves, singly and in small groups, into Johannesburg’s crevices and established themselves within its growing economy did so thanks to the actions of thousands of others who abetted them, knowingly and unknowingly. A symphony? A dance? A river? The ideal image acknowledges that many anonymous individuals, in pursuit of goals both private and shared, created the multiple openings— physical, perceptual, emotional—of which migrants availed themselves. The principal actors were domestic workers, who participated, mostly in full consciousness of the risks they took and the price they would pay if caught, but they operated within a wider context of regular, routine, predictable , and messy urban activity that they exploited for all it was worth. 114 At Home witH ApArtHeid They listened and watched and identified the fissures and gaps and located the opportunities and in the process conducted thousands of undocumented Africans into the city. Workers had good reasons to secret people onto their employers’ properties . Domestic service was hard work, not so much because it required muscle as because it was tedious and thankless. A single servant might be responsible for preparing meals, serving them, baking, cleaning house, child care, washing and ironing, tending pets, and sometimes caring for elderly parents as well. Days were long, often more than twelve hours, and many employers expected in addition that their workers would be “on call” during evening hours. The conditions under...