In January 1966, Broadhurst Cona and his family were forcibly evicted from their house in Luyolo Location, Simon’s Town, under apartheid’s Group Areas Act.
The street in Gugulethu to which the Luyolo community was relocated in 1965 and where several descendants continue to reside.
Each day, around 20 families and all their belongings were relocated by truck. Cona and his family were among those who lost their homes last.
The trucks transported the families from the seaside slopes of Simon’s Town to a desolate street in Gugulethu, where they were furnished with two-bedroom homes.
Many members of the Luyolo group and their descendants continue to reside in these dwellings.
Now, nearly sixty years later, Cona, who is 75 years old, is slated to benefit from the Luyolo Land restitution claim, which is part of the Dido Valley Housing Project behind Anchor Bay Mall in Simon’s Town.
The housing development will include 600 homes, with 500 for residents of the Redhill informal settlement and 100 for land claimants from Luyolo.
Malusi Booi, a member of the Mayco for Human Settlements, stated that if everything goes according to plan, the first units should be delivered to Luyolo claimants in March or April of this year.
Booi stated that the first 33 Redhill apartments have been constructed and would be handed over after electrification is complete.
One of the dwellings being constructed for a Luyolo land claimant in December 2022. Photo: Lucas Nowicki
Luyolo was a tiny, active community founded in 1901 on the mountain slopes of Simon’s Town by Eastern Cape laborers hired to build the railway line from Kalk Bay to Simon’s Town.
After the completion of the railroad, many employees remained and found employment at the Simon’s Town naval base dockyard.
At the time of the forced deportation, there were around 1,500 African residents living in Luyolo.
Secretary of the Luyolo Land Restitution Committee Lungiswa Somlota was born in 1967, two years after her parents were forcibly relocated from Luyolo in 1965.
“They were forced to relocate, but they were unable to quit their jobs because they needed to provide for their families,” explains Somlota.
Her father continued to work at the naval dockyard, rising at 4:00 a.m. to board the bus from Gugulethu to Simon’s Town. She grew up hearing tales of community life in Luyolo.
“The neighborhood existed as one large family. No one would retire with an empty stomach. There was independence. People might go fishing, according to Somlota.
Broadhurst Cona views the Dido Valley housing development, which overlooks False Bay.
However, after being transported against his will to Gugulethu, he had nowhere nearby to swim.
Cona says, “I later began going to Camps Bay, where I joined some long-distance [sea] swimmers.”
In the 1970s, Cona began playing rugby and was selected by the local club Flying Eagles in Nyanga. This began his career as a professional rugby player.
He went on to play for the Leopards (the black rugby team under the South African Rugby Board during apartheid) against France and in Italy.
Simultaneously, he worked night shifts as a laborer. “Before I went to sleep, I had to train alone because I was unable to attend the main practice, so I lacked teamwork.
One week every month was allotted for teamwork. Cona stated, “I almost quit because it was so taxing on me.”
Cona was listening to the radio in the early 1990s when a government official described the procedure for initiating a land claim.
Cona then traveled to Athlone to meet with an official.
“I recorded every aspect of the conference, and then I campaigned in our community for descendants of Luyolo to come and stake their claim. Cona states, “I called a meeting, and thankfully the community responded in droves.”
After this early phase of excitement and optimism, bureaucracy began to prolong the process.
Cona states, “When you return to the Department of Land Affairs, there is a new commissioner who will not pick up where the previous commissioner left off; he will do his own thing.”
How to deal with the question of monetary compensation was a further significant difficulty. Land claimants have the option of accepting a predetermined amount as compensation or following the land restitution process.
In the early 2000s, the community was divided about whether to pursue compensation or land.
“The populace was so disenchanted. They believed that returning was impossible, that it was a pipe dream. We attempted to persuade them that taking the money would not be beneficial. It was chump change, roughly R22,000 at the moment. Cona states, “You know they use money as a weapon, and that’s where we lost.” It was a catastrophe for us.
Dr. Wayne Alexander, chief executive officer of the Western Cape Regional Land Claims Commission, reports that 773 Luyolo land claimants have chosen financial compensation since 1998.
Only about 130 individuals selected land over monetary compensation.
Slowly gaining speed, the land restitution project is now reaching conclusion. Cona, though, has conflicting feelings about it.
“I was thrilled and ecstatic since I could observe the progress. I am pleased with the legacy of going back, given that we were forcibly removed and are now claiming and returning to our homeland. “But the excitement has dissipated,” Cona said.
The mood is quite subdued. Cona is concerned about the size of the plots they would receive and the fact that they had no input throughout the construction process.
Cona states, “We expected a restitution project, not RDP houses.”
Somlota, who is currently taking her last examinations for an LLB at UNISA, expressed her delight at the return of the Luyolo community. “We are grateful to be alive to witness this day, with the expectation of witnessing the culmination of our efforts”
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