Reframe views of fraught places like Westbury and Cloetesville – The Mail & Guardian

New lens: Suburbs such as Cloetesville near Stellenbosch are much more than their reputation as gangster-ridden. Photo: Leon Jacobs

While I was away for my graduation in Johannesburg, I found myself in conversation with a group of friends. Our discussion turned to Westbury, a neighbourhood in Johannesburg associated with crime, frequent gun violence and entrenched gang activity. In an effort to present the community in a more positive light, someone remarked that they had watched a video in which someone said; “Westbury is a good place if you look beyond the crime, the gunshots,and the insecurity.” 

I remember responding with a quiet irony: it is precisely those very conditions — those we are asked to “look beyond” — that have shaped the perception of Westbury as unsafe and burdened with a negative reputation. 

I did not appreciate the implications of that exchange. On reflection, the same observation can be made about Cloetesville, in the Stellenbosch area, which has similarly become associated with robberies and gang-related violence, and consequently has a troubled reputation.

The words of the person who urged us to “look beyond” the crime and gang-related issues of Westbury have begun to acquire new meaning for me as I navigate life in Cloetesville. My reflections began with the family I live with, who consistently ensure my safety. They not only watch over my comings and goings but also introduce me to members of the local community with the assurance that, should I ever find myself in distress, I would have people to call upon for assistance. Their care extends to advising me on which routes to use at certain times of the day and, on occasion, even offering to drive me to my destination to minimise risk.

I have also had countless acts of kindness from strangers. People I had never met offered me a ride when they realised we were headed in the same direction. I recall one instance where a person went out of their way to ensure I arrived safely at my residence, only for me to later discover that they were distantly related to the family with whom I live. Equally striking are the many moments when community members cautioned me to safeguard my phone while walking, urging me to either hold it more firmly or tuck it away to avoid theft.

To this sense of community must also be added the “tribe” I have found at my university, to borrow the words of my supervisor. My colleagues and mentors have played a vital role in easing my transition into both academic and social life at Stellenbosch. Their support has been invaluable, and I remain deeply grateful for their continued guidance.

All these experiences point to a deeper lesson: that when we take the time to look beyond the visible “ills” of communities often dismissed as unsafe or crime-ridden, we begin to see the humanity that persists within them. We encounter people who, despite the circumstances they have inherited, continue to strive toward dignity, resilience and honest livelihoods. These are people who, in the midst of systemic problems and structural neglect still embody a profound ethic of care — for themselves, their families and their neighbours. Such recognition calls for a shift in perspective: from viewing these places solely through the lens of their struggles to acknowledging the networks of solidarity, generosity and perseverance that sustain them.

This reflection also draws my attention to a broader human reality: that at times we become trapped in our own thoughts, feeling isolated and convinced that no one cares about us. In such moments, we carry our burdens in silence, assuming that our struggles are ours alone to bear. If there is one lesson I have drawn from the kindness of strangers in Cloetesville, it is that there are always people — often unseen — who are quietly willing to help in whatever way they can. We may not always recognise who they are, but their presence becomes evident when we take the courage to speak up and seek assistance. 

This insight resonates strongly with recent social reflections, such as the recognition of men’s mental health awareness last month and the celebration of women this month. Both highlight the urgent need to create communities that do not silence pain but encourage dialogue, compassion and mutual care. If we are to counteract the pervasive ills that too often define our neighbourhoods in negative terms, we must cultivate spaces where people feel safe to voice their struggles, to seek support and to recognise that, even in places marked by hardship, there exists a willingness to help and a capacity for solidarity.

In the end, my encounters — from Westbury’s troubled reputation to my lived reality of Cloetesville — have taught me that communities cannot be understood solely through the lens of their visible struggles. 

Crime, violence and systemic neglect are real, but they do not exhaust the truth of these places. Beneath the surface is a resilient ethic of care, embodied in countless small acts of generosity, solidarity and concern for others. To recognise this is to acknowledge that human dignity persists even under difficult conditions, and that genuine community is built not only through the absence of struggle but through the shared commitment to endure and support one another in the midst of it. 

Perhaps the challenge for us is not simply to condemn communities by their scars but to nurture spaces where compassion and dialogue can thrive — spaces where burdens may be shared, resilience affirmed and hope continually renewed.

Emmanuel Anoghena Oboh is a PhD student of philosophy at the Centre of Applied Ethics, Stellenbosch University.