The colonial and apartheid planning policies and practices from the 1930s gave European settlers the sole rights to live, work and be educated in urban areas, where they had complete freedom of movement. On the other hand, the presence of African people in urban settlements was strictly controlled through pass laws, spatial segregation, and systems of land tenure that restricted them from living in towns and cities.

If Black people needed to stay close to the city, they were accommodated in hostels designed for single workers (not families) or houses in townships – places on the far edges of towns or cities, without amenities and designated “Black only” by the apartheid system.

Townships generally allocated small plots to each house. The houses built by the government during apartheid all looked the same and had very low minimum standards, such as rows of “matchbox” (two- to four-roomed) houses for small, nuclear families or prefabricated houses. This reflected the dominant white view that Africans should only be temporary residents in urban settlements.

The old South African townships had inadequate sanitation facilities. Toilets either did not exist or were built outside (a bucket inside a single cubicle, or a pit or flush toilet). After apartheid ended in 1994, access to safe toilets and sanitation was recognised as a human right and many local governments built new toilets.

As geographers, we are interested in how space is planned and used. In our latest research, we looked at the interplay between cultural practices and urban residential planning in the Makanaskop township in Makhanda, South Africa.

In many South African townships, planning still does not fully align with the cultural, social and economic realities of the residents. This study offered an opportunity to find out whether there was a disconnect between planning and cultural practices.

Our study shows that the plot size, house size and spatial organisation of built structures are often disconnected from residents’ needs, highlighting the importance of culturally aware planning for social housing.

Life, land and rituals in a tiny township

Makanaskop was established during apartheid in about 1957. By 1974, 200 homes had been constructed there and it has continued to expand. It is located about 4.5km away from the town centre in Makhanda. Today it is a mixed-income residential space composed of low- and middle-income residents, the majority of whom are culturally amaXhosa.

There are two types of houses in Makanaskop. First, single-family detached houses – free-standing residential buildings that are not connected to adjacent houses. Second, single-family semi-detached houses connected to neighbouring units through one or more shared walls.

Over time, some of these buildings were expanded to house bigger, extended families.

Makanaskop initially had a bucket toilet system and later also received outside flush toilets from the government.

We interviewed the members of nine households who had cultural land uses and surveyed their properties. We found several amaXhosa cultural practices that require designated spaces and specific spatial organisation. The kraal, or ubuhlanti, is a rectangular wooden enclosure where amaXhosa practise their spirituality and perform rituals. These include kubuyisa, the ritual where an ox is slaughtered and sacrificed to appease the ancestors after a death in the family.

Another ritual is ukutyiswa amasi, when a woman who has married into the family is invited into the kraal to be introduced to the ancestors.

Imbeleko is a ceremony held in the kraal when newborn members of the clan are introduced to the elders and ancestors.

The kraal is also an integral part of the circumcision ritual known as ulwaluko, which is performed when adolescent males are initiated into manhood. Boys seclude themselves from society, undergo circumcision, and receive guidance on navigating this society and communities in their capacity as men.

Before young males undergo this transition, they meet in the kraal with male family members and respected male members of the community. Upon their return, they once again visit the kraal before entering the house to complete the ritual.

A kraal can be used to house culturally important livestock, even in urban settlements where this is typically against the local bylaws.

In Makanaskop, the kraal is at the front or back of the plot, depending on cultural preferences or spatial limitations.

However, the kraal is not the only land use needed in this space. Culturally, rondavels for spiritual and cultural practices, and housing for extended family, are often needed. Additional land uses include water storage tanks, parking, gardens, washing lines and sheds. State-provided toilets are outside too.

We found when we surveyed the houses that, alongside limited plot size, the positioning of land use activities limited the potential for this open space to be used or developed.

Misalignment of cultural practices and urban planning

The first issue relates to the positioning of state-provided structures on the plot. This could provide a challenge in positioning the kraal, for example, because some outside toilets are in the middle of the backyard and the positioning of other land uses is dependent on this.

If there’s no space for the kraal other than near the toilet, people can’t go to the toilet freely. The kraal is a sacred space and non-family members or new brides are not allowed in it. This makes toilets in the middle of the backyard a real problem.

As one person we interviewed said:

If it was up to us and the plot was large enough, everything would be at the back; however, that would mean placing the kraal next to the toilet. This would be disrespectful as the kraal is a sacred space.

The position of the house can also prove to be a problem. Traditionally, some people believe the kraal should be at the front for ancestral protection. State-built houses are often positioned very close to the front boundary of the plot, however.

The second challenge is that small plots limit space for cultural and more practical land uses. One resident we interviewed had an informal agreement with a neighbour to extend their house onto the neighbour’s property, but had no official sanction for this. Another had illegally extended their plot onto the public verge to accommodate the kraal.

What needs to happen next

Due to the perpetuation of western-centric planning norms, the cultural practices and needs of Black people are ignored when townships and state-provided houses are built. Faced with these constraints, residents have had to adapt their cultural practices or contravene planning systems and bylaws through insurgent planning and quiet encroachment.

Before delivering social services, planners need first to understand residents’ cultural practices to avoid future conflicts.

(The research this article is based on was co-authored by Nangamso Makhiwane of Rhodes University).

Written by Sinenhlanhla Memela, Senior lecturer, Rhodes University and Philippa Irvine, Lecturer, Rhodes University

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.