District Six marks Heritage Day with memory stones, stories and Klopse - IOL
District Six Homecoming Centre stage decorated with memory stones and Cape Town Klopse imagery for Heritage Day celebrations.
On September 24, former residents, descendants, community members, and youth gathered at the District Six Homecoming Centre to commemorate Heritage Day by bringing their own stories into the museum's archive.
The event marked a milestone in a participatory process that began on February 11, 2026, when the District Six Museum lifted its famous painted floor map to create a space for active memorialisation.
Inside the hall of the Homecoming Centre, where the programme took place, Heritage Day attendees wrote their memories on stones, walls, and printed maps.
They recorded family names and former addresses to preserve these lived accounts so that younger generations might hear them.
The blue stones were then taken to the museum to be placed on the floor map of Salt, with the first batch of memory stones being preserved for 2027.
Tina Smith speaks to the audience, challenging attendees to interrogate how they pass down their values to the next generation.
Addressing the older generation that preserves the neighbourhood's physical memory, Tina Smith, head of exhibitions, challenges them to consider more than just the archives, but also to question the importance of the legacy and heritage they are leaving behind for the next generation..
Museum director Chrischené Julius sits in deep conversation with Uncle Solly, bridging the gap between institutional memory and lived experience.
"How do we value our humanness? How do we value our heritage? We’re not going to be here forever, but we want to leave a legacy,” Smith questioned.
Speaking to Uncle Solly, one of the "wisest," she added, "We really want to honour your presence here today with us, and to all the other elders who have taken the time to come here today."
District Six Museum educator Mandy Sanger speaks with an attendee during the Heritage Day restitution programme.
District Six Museum educator Mandy Sanger spent the morning facilitating intimate, one-on-one conversations with attendees during the restitution programme.
She gently guided participants, especially the youth, in connecting their personal family histories to the broader narrative of District Six, ensuring the weight of these memories is passed on to younger generations.
A silo building structure, an evolving canvas where handwritten notes would soon be pinned to the deeply rich and dense map of District Six.
One 86-year-old former resident provided a detailed account of her youth.
"I was born in Springfield Terrace in 1938, and as I grew up, I had twelve sisters and twelve brothers," she remembered, recalling a thriving community. "After I was at Springfield Terrace, I stayed there for ten years, and then I moved to 36 Pontac Street, where I grew up."
An attendee leans in to write down her thoughts.
On a yellow note pinned to a printed map, one participant wrote: “Hope to return.” Around it, dozens of other participants' notes declared that District Six belonged to everyone who calls it home, bringing the national heritage debate into the lived experiences of families awaiting land restitution.
"Hope to return" — a simple, poignant yellow note pinned to the map, capturing a six-decade wait for restitution.
"Justice delayed is not justice denied. We wait, but we do not forget."
When Education Assistant Ayanda Mpono asked where attendees had travelled from, displaced residents called out the names of distant townships across the Cape Flats. Mpono, who officially stepped into the role in February 2026, has worked with the museum in various capacities for more than five years.
Voices in the crowd echoed with the areas they had been forcibly relocated to Hanover Park, Manenberg, Bonteheuwel, Heideveld, Mitchells Plain, Athlone, Belhar, and Lavender Hill, among other areas.
Others had made the journey from even further, travelling from townships to which families were relocated, like Atlantis on the West Coast, Ocean View in the deep south, and Macassar.
Smith spoke about Ubuntu as the practical foundation of District Six. "Nobody would be hungry in District Six. You would share a cup of sugar, a cup of oil, and so forth and so on," she noted.
"We come from a place of dignity and a sense of Ubuntu, where we recognise each other."
Uncle Ikram, born in District Six in 1966, recalled the early 1970s removals.
“My granny taught me how to read and write. And then, one day, we were forced to leave our home. After that, I went on a journey to find myself, and I found District Six again.”
Joy amidst the reflection: celebrating a Heritage Day birthday right in the heart of the Homecoming Centre.
Overseeing the preservation of these lived accounts is Lisa Fredericks. She is the Manager of Collections, Research, and Documentation for the District Six Museum Archival Department.
Fredericks began her journey with the museum in 2021 as a research assistant focusing on oral history interviewing and podcasts, before officially taking on her current position in November 2025.
Following the oral history sessions, the blue rocks of memory and heritage on the stage came to life through those in attendance.
Smith opened the floor for attendees to write their dreams for tomorrow. "For future generations and for the younger people, we would like to know what your hopes and dreams are for the future of this District," she said.
Residents dispersed from Gugulethu to Mitchells Plain to Hanover Park, gather for the Heritage Day programme, a physical reunion of a fractured diaspora.
One participant wrote “Ubuntu” alongside “I am because you are,” asking how true heritage resides in indigenous care and knowledge passed between people.
A participant reflects on the true meaning of Ubuntu, writing “I am here because of you" to call upon and honour his ancestors, declaring that heritage lies in communal care.
An aerial view captures Aunty Susan and Uncle Solly deep in conversation, a poignant moment of elders anchoring the fragile memory of a once-thriving neighbourhood.
Oral history storyteller Aunty Susan and Uncle Solly look through a book of memories together, bridging the gap between institutional archives and the community's lived experience.
Smith warned the youth that community requires continuous effort.
"Nobody is going to come and put it to you on your plate. You have to begin to realise that this democracy is fragile. It is freedom; it is something you have to work on and change.
Youth prepare to carry the blue memory stones, symbolising the passing of the baton and the solemn responsibility of carrying the community's legacy forward.
Once the stones were prepared, the gathering moved outside for a procession to the main museum building on Buitenkant Street, led by Klopse musicians.
The Cape Town Minstrel carnival is a working-class cultural tradition dating back to the 19th century, historically rooted in emancipation celebrations.
Community member Melvyn Matthews provided context for the parade, tracing the formal carnival structures back to 1907.
“This tradition has been running since 1907,” Matthews explained, emphasising the generations of musicians who kept the art form alive through forced removals.
vibrant procession to the main museum is led by Smiley, a voorloper (lead dancer) whose energetic presence embodies the resilience of Cape Town's working-class culture.
At the front, the voorloper (lead dancer) wore an elaborate headdress of pink, yellow, and turquoise feathers. As the troupe marched, motorists paused to watch the voorloper gooi, an Afrikaans term for the high-stepping carnival dance moves.
At the Buitenkant Street intersection between the museum and the Cape Town Central Police Station, traffic stopped as motorists sat in their cars while the voorloper gooi.
Smiley throws down high-stepping and flamboyant moves, an unapologetic and defiant expression of joy reclaiming the city streets.
Community member Melvyn laid down the law about this physically demanding role.
"To me, the most important guy — okay, everyone is important, but the important guy is the voorloper," he said. "Do not play with the voorloper."
The procession turns into a spirited street celebration with a battle of the bands, honouring generations of musicians who kept their traditions alive through forced removals.
What made the street procession remarkable was its unscripted harmony. There was no master rehearsal for the afternoon; instead, distinct musical lineages simply collided and merged in real time on Buitenkant Street.
The bright, rhythmic strum of Klopse banjos seamlessly interwoven with the deep, resonant brass of the marching bands created an unplanned symphony that could only happen in Cape Town on Heritage Day.
Marching band fills Buitenkant Street with the sounds of brass and drums, providing the defining soundtrack to the community’s enduring identity.
Adding to this sound of heritage, our nation's daughters stepped forward outside the museum, captivating the marching crowd with disciplined traditional dances and singing, a powerful display of young women claiming their cultural space and carrying the community's legacy into the future.
Without prior rehearsal, Klopse banjos, marching band brass, and the energetic performances of the nation's young women merge on Buitenkant Street, creating an unplanned, spontaneous soundtrack for the Heritage Day march.
Inside the main museum, participants laid their stones onto a mixture of sea sand and salt laid out where the floor map once rested.
An aerial shot captures the newly remapped memories resting on a bed of sea sand and salt, marking the powerful second installment of the exhibition since the original floor map was lifted on February 11.
Smith outlined the next steps for the dynamic memorialisation project. By February 11, 2027, the museum plans to march these stones to a desolate cairn near the Cape Peninsula University of Technology (CPUT), marking the last remnant of Hanover Street.
“It is not a very welcoming space, but we are hanging on to it, and I think it is going to make quite a symbolic statement with all these stones,” Smith explained. The goal is to collect 60,000 stones to symbolically honour every person uprooted.
After the 60th anniversary of the 1966 forced removals declaration, the museum will also launch a proposed digital map. “You will be able to access the map in a more digital-friendly way and bring to life some of these stories and memories of District Six through these new devices,” Smith added.
A historic group photograph captures the united community, Klopse musicians, and generations of descendants gathered outside the museum—a powerful, living testament to the enduring cultural legacy and unbreakable spirit of District Six.
This year's completed sea sand and salt exhibition stands as a physical record of loss and resilience, holding the community's stories until the stones are marched back to the ruins of District Six in 2027.

