“What do I think? I think a lot of things,” Zinomkhitha tells us. She is sitting besides a seemingly idyllic river at one of the top ranked golf courses in the West Rand, Gauteng. This same river, however, is where her father — Bongani Khumalo — tragically drowned two years ago. Bongani was a dedicated golf player and an even more dedicated father, who worked as a caddie on CMR golf course for twenty-five years. He provided support to his five daughters by collecting golf balls and reselling them to the club and players.
Zinomkhitha, now 24, the eldest of his five children, explains how the death of her father came as such a shock to her. His body was only identified two weeks after he had died, when a friend eventually discovered him at a government mortuary. The forensics report revealed the cause of death to be drowning. Although little else is known, Zinomkhitha remembers that her father used to wake up in the early hours of the morning, before the players had arrived, in order to collect golf balls from the dam. He often removed his clothes so that he could more easily locate the balls. It seems as if one morning the cold had made him disorientated and unable to get out of the water, and he had fallen, hitting his head against a rock. The Golf Club managers could not account for how Bongani ended up at the mortuary, or why his family was never informed. They found words that sound hygienic and legal, such as ‘not a formal employer’ or ‘not entitled to a burial allowance’ to evade responsibility. However, Bongani was paid directly by CMR for about five years.
The caddies are not mentioned in the write up of CMR’s hundred year history of “pioneering spirits” and workers “who gave much of themselves.” Instead, it is filled with scenic pictures of the water course and a club house. Looking at CMR’s website, no one would guess that Bongani’s body may have washed up on the shores of that picturesque river. Zinomkhitha reveals a story that needs to be heard. Having grown up on the golf course, it is a place that holds many memories for her and many things come to mind as she sits by the river. She thinks about how her father’s friend (also a caddie) was beaten to death by patrollers. She also remembers how her father would disappear for days, then return home to rest his injuries for a short time before going back to work with open wounds. She is saddened by the exploitation that she saw of these ‘casual’ workers at the golf course, most of whom were, as her father was, self-employed foreign nationals with no recourse to work benefits. They worked long hours, and sometimes accepted as little as ten rand per day.
Most of all, Zinomkhitha thinks about the love and dedication of her father — “who would have done anything for us.” His name, Bongani (which means ‘thankful’) is tattooed on her left shoulder, and despite the sadness, it is with gratefulness and a sense of peace that she thinks of the sacrifices and risks that he took to provide for his family. Her story highlights the changes that need to be made so that caddies are no longer driven, like Bongani, to endanger their lives. It is convenient for the golfing estate to portray an idyllic golfing terrain with lush greens and a dam surrounded by trees. It is convenient because with organised oblivion and forgetfulness, there is no accountability. However, it is time to look beyond surface portrayals of the manicured fairways and consider the invisible but essential workers who bolster this sport without fair recompense or job security.
