Bed Room

Abstract

Birthial Gxaleka ran an NGO and shelter in Hillbrow. From her bed—which was one of eleven double beds flanking the walls of this one-bedroomed apartment. A narrow corridor separating the bases of the two lengths of bed was the only standing room. The apartment accommodated thirty-four people. Each person wanted a better life: a job, a reconnection with lost family, health care or a place to sleep. Private space was at a premium and timing the use of the bathroom or the cooking space was a finely tuned choreography. No one could afford to store more than two bags here. But when five or six people arranged themselves sausage-like across the beds at night it all felt workable. Malindi Yeko said he was one of the few who made trouble in the apartment because, ‘In the middle of the night, when we come home late tripping, we talk too much and disturb the others.’ He knew that no one would complain but in the morning he would have to sit on the side of Birthial’s bed, ‘Right here on Zuma's face,’ he said, pointing to the motif of the President that decorates her government campaign-issue blanket. There he would confront a verbal beating from Birthial. This space of extreme dense cohabitation offers insights into the navigation of the everyday as well as choice, necessity, kindness and mistrust. It surfaces the governance of micro-space and of the intimate that attended this pragmatic and choreographed cohabitation.