By Lauren Kramer

It’s one of those excruciatingly hot Cape Town days, the kind where you’re grateful for a hint of shade and anxiously awaiting the cool reprieve of late afternoon. As my car climbs the incline to the Bo-Kaap, though, I feel the mountain breeze sweep wisps of hair from my forehead, a welcome from the proud slopes of Table Mountain that look ever so majestic from the vantage point of the Malay Quarter.

I'm here to meet Shereen Habib, owner of Tana Baru Tours and a tour guide for the past 13 years. Together wtih other curious visitors, I'm about to delve into the Malay history of the Cape, using the Bo-Kaap Museum, the area's oldest house still in its original form, as our starting point.

One of the first rooms in this museum, its façade a graceful mixture of Cape Dutch and English Georgian architecture, puts this history into perspective right away. Using old photographs that document significant moments in the history of Cape Town, the accompanying text emphasizes that while the Cape’s colonial heritage is celebrated at every turn, there is little to document the contribution made by the slaves, convicts and workers on whose backs the city was built.

“This exhibition is dedicated

to the people who built the city of Cape Town, but were not allowed to enjoy all the fruits of their labour,” the museum states unequivocally.

Habib breezes into the museum, a 57-year-old grandmother and mother of five whose clear skin, graceful attire and bright eyes belie the exile, political unrest, sadness and turmoil she has witnessed in her five decades. Beckoning to our group, she leads us past the old Malay artifacts, through the courtyard and up the stairs to a room whose walls are decked with poignant images of the faces, places and moments that constitute the vibrant life of the Malay Quarter.

With brevity, Habib gives us a succinct picture of the history of her people. Some arrived as slaves from Indonesia between 1658 and 1807, while others were convicts, sentenced to prison in the Cape. Not all were Muslim when they arrived, but many converted to Islam, which became the religion of resistance in the city.

They got their name, Malay, from the language they shared, Malayu, a trading lingua franca that could be found from Madagascar as far as China. In the early 1800s, with the arrival of the British in Cape Town, the slaves were emancipated, though they were not permitted to own land. The arrival of Apartheid in 1948 meant the Malay community was classified as black, and the only fortune they experienced around this time, with the Group Areas Act, was that their beloved Malay Quarter remained intact.

Life remains hard for Malays to this day, Habib insists. “Our Malay marriages are not recognized by the government, and though I’m not supposed to say this as a tour guide, I believe racism has escalated in this country in recent years. Cape Town today is all about money and capitalism,” she says.

Habib feels passionate about these subjects, and is easily sidetracked as she discusses the mess government leaders have made over the years. “It’s always us women who are left to pick up the pieces,” she says, before sweeping us out the door of the museum and onto the narrow streets of the Malay Quarter.

Less than two kilometers in length, the brightly painted houses of this neighbourhood are located just above Cape Town’s business district, with so enviable a view of Table Mountain that the homes have been coveted and purchased by outsiders in recent years.

“When Mandela came to power in 1994, we found ourselves under economic attack, because with the dramatic increase in the value of our houses came rates that many residents of this quarter could not afford,” Habib explains.

“Some were forced to sell and move to other suburbs like Rondebosch East. But today, at least 70 percent of the Malay Quarter’s population is Malay.”

We walk through narrow allies, their walls decorated with graffiti and the day’s laundry, shirts and sheets blowing in the light breeze. In minutes, we’re outside the Auwal Mosque on Dorp street, the very first mosque in South Africa, which was built in 1794. “If you’re a refugee and you have no money, you can come here for assistance,” she says. “But you have to prove that you have no way to provide shelter and food for yourself.”

Around us, bright houses abound, peppered in between by a few decked in shades of cream. The colours are starting to return, Habib explains. “During Apartheid, Malays weren’t allowed to paint their houses in bright colours,” she says. “Only now are those colours starting to come back.”

One family in particular has chosen what can only be described as a shocking shade of fuschia for their home, which sits high up on the mountainside, not too far from the Tana Baru cemetery. “We have no idea what went through that guy’s mind when he took out his paintbrush,” Habib laughs.

Her tour stops at the first Dutch house built in this area, a sad looking structure that has clearly not been maintained by its occupying family. Still, it is a part of Malay history in this quarter, and history is history, Habib insists, as we sit on the lower steps leading to the house. “We want to leave it intact,” she says.

Most of the Bo-Kaap is paved these days, though a smattering of cobblestones still persist at the intersection of Church and Chiappini streets, a site often frequented by film companies who come to try and capture the yesteryear charm of the Quarter.

It’s much easier to appreciate that charm on foot, surrounded by sights, scents and personalities. Women lean over their balconies to converse in the late afternoon, and spicy, exotic scents fill the air, tantalizing hints of Malay culture. Some of that culture – particularly its cuisine – has gained mainstream acceptance and is a staple in the Cape these days. Dishes like bobotie, samoosas, melktert and chicken pies had their origins in the Malay community, Habib says.

We sample some at her home, lounging on low couches as we gaze at the spectacular view of Table Mountain whilst sipping tea from cups and saucers beautifully decorated with African motifs. As I return to my car, the Bo-Kaap is bathed in late afternoon sunshine, and the rich taste of melktert lingers on my tongue. The melodic sound of nearby muezzins fills my ears as Muslim followers are called to prayer, and for a moment, there’s pure magic in the air.  

If You Go:

Tana Baru Tours offers morning and afternoon tours of approximately two hours, departing from the Bo-Kaap Museum at 71 Wale Street. Fees are R150 for adults, R100 for seniors and R50 for children 10 and under. For more information email tanabarutours@webmail.co.za or call (073) 237-3800.