In Durban, flood victims are questioning why four years of waiting is still not enough to receive permanent housing. Foreign nationals are also seeking safe places to live, while anti-immigration activists demand explanations. The government, as usual, aims to resettle people.
Perhaps the root of the problem is that the country mistakenly equates displacement with progress. Four years after the devastating floods in KwaZulu-Natal in 2022, people continue to live with the consequences of unfulfilled promises. Families who lost their homes were moved into temporary accommodation and were repeatedly told that something more permanent would be provided. They waited, and they kept waiting.
Then another humanitarian crisis arose. Foreign nationals were housed in the office of the Department of Internal Affairs on Che Guevara Street in Durban after being evicted ahead of protests against illegal immigration. Many wished for voluntary deportation, while others found themselves in a difficult situation without a clear plan of action. Their presence became a political issue, leading to subsequent protests and growing pressure. Eventually, they agreed to move to Linden.
Now two groups of displaced persons find themselves at the center of the same dispute: who has the right to housing, who waited longer, who belongs to this place, and whose suffering is more important. The tragedy is not that the flood victims ask about the reason for the delay; they have every right to do so. Four years is a long time to live in temporary conditions.
The tragedy is that they waited long enough for another desperate group to become their competitor. Both groups suffer and both are vulnerable, and both find themselves in a country that seems increasingly unable to handle suffering without turning it into a political argument.
Perhaps we do not like to admit this. A special fatigue arises from the need to prove that your pain matters. People begin tracking dates, recalling promises, counting years, and watching someone else receive what you asked for, wondering if your turn has been forgotten. This is a dangerous state for a society that abandons its citizens.
Because ultimately, frustration must direct its anger somewhere. And if there is no answer from those who should provide it, it finds the nearest target—a neighbor, an immigrant, another poor family, or someone else standing in the same queue. The author believes this does not make people monsters, but rather exhausted. However, exhausted people deserve more than to be objects of accusation against another person.
It is necessary to look at what is happening in Durban and feel discomfort without taking sides in someone else's misfortune. Perhaps a worthy society is not one that decides who gets help first. Perhaps it is a society where people do not have to fight so desperately for it. That is the thought the author cannot dismiss.
