The smell of freshly baked muffins filled the air as you step into the home of 81-year-old William Francis, who, along with his family, were forcibly removed from their cottage in Protea Village, Kirstenbosch in the mid-1960s.
This modest home in Belhar was the end of a long journey for William, his wife Joy, and their family — a journey that began five decades ago with apartheid forced removals.
William and Joy have been together for almost six decades, and throughout the years, Joy played a pivotal role in helping her husband and his family reclaim their ancestral land — or as William called it, the "Promise Land".
Their claim, lodged in 1995, was recently approved, and after years of waiting, the couple is now closer than ever to returning to the place where William grew up.
William is one of the 86 families who opted to have their rights to the land restored.
At a recent sod-turning ceremony, held by the City of Cape Town, Department of Agriculture, Land Reform and Rural Development, Public Works and Infrastructure, it was announced that construction of water, electricity and road infrastructure is set to start soon.
William spoke fondly of his youth, growing up just steps away from Kirstenbosch Botanical Gardens, where his father worked.
"Eerste Lawn, Tweede Lawn," William said nostalgically, "These are the areas where me and my friends, who were like brothers, would meet up. "And the gardens, the smell of it that was something special. Everyone had a flower garden. Agapanthus, Clivias, Christmas roses… and wow, the smell was beautiful."
"We grew up poor, but it was the best time of our lives! We didn’t have electric stoves; we fetched wood from the garden. But you know what? That was the happiest time of our lives.
“Walking to school through the garden barefoot and the dew would sit on your feet like ice particles.
“We knew that garden like the back of our hands. There was never any crime, never any feeling of fear. You could walk to the shop in the dark, and nobody would bother you. Everyone knew everyone; it was like one big family."
Joy placed her hand gently on William’s arm as he spoke.
“And this woman…I always joke she fell in love with Kirstenbosch before falling inlove with me.
"She's been there every step of the way. I believe she’s the reason we managed to get the land back, she was part of the committee that fought so hard," William continued. "My parents would be so proud of her. They would have loved to see this day."
His voice softened. "My dad died a broken man. My mom… she always wanted to go back. She never stopped talking about it."
That fateful day, William recalled, started with a knock on the door.
"I can still see it," he said, his voice trembling with emotion.
"My mom was in the kitchen. She walked towards the door, and there stood a tall white man. He said, 'Kom, kom, julle kan nie meer hier woon nie. Hierdie area is nou deel van die Group Areas.'
My mom burst out crying as her furniture was being taken out. I stood there, holding onto her, as she wailed."
William and his family were taken away, loaded onto the back of a truck and that would be the last time he would ever see the cottage, the place they had called home for generations.
"That was it. The last time I ever saw my friends. We never got to say goodbye."
The family spoke of the longing to return often, in their house in Lotus River, the place where they were relocated to.
It wasn’t until 1995 that the long process of land claims began. "It was a long and complicated process," William said, reflecting on the challenges.
Joy's eyes met William’s as he spoke, both of them remembering the perseverance of his mother.
"She always told us we’d see the Promise Land," William said softly. "And now, here we are. We got to attend the sod-turning ceremony, and hopefully, soon, we’ll be able to return."
While William is eager to take those long walks again with Joy through the beauty of Kirstenbosch, a sense of bittersweetness clouds his words.
"I wish my parents could be here," he said, his voice filled with emotion. "What my mother went through, what my family went through, it stayed with me every day. I wish they’d just left us there. As poor as we were, we were happy. We had our family, our community. We had the peace of knowing we belonged."
His voice faltered as he continued: "I am thankful that we get to go back, but I wish we could go back to those times, to the days when the aunty would give you a hiding and then tell your mom, and your mom would hit you too.
"I wish we could walk freely again, see my old friends, and take long walks to Hout Bay beach. I wish we could go back to the way things were. But it’s gone."
Weekend Argus