“Ukugoduka”: To Return Home
Avela Lindiwe Swana
Multi-creative | Candidate Architectural Technologist | Student of Life
In one of South Africa’s urban hubs, Johannesburg, the situation and context for which the city developed were removed from one’s home culture and identity. The centre of the city was built around the phenomenon of gold mining. Migrant workers, factory owners and businessmen from across the world gathered in this centre to create businesses and livelihoods, however, these livelihoods were lived remotely, away from the city. Such is true, particularly for black people, whose housing was purposefully put on the outskirts of the city. The word I’ve chosen is taken from the “isiXhosa” language of Southern Africa. “Ukugoduka” means “to go or come back to a place, condition, or activity where one has been before” (TheFreeDictionary.com, 2012). The relevance of one’s travels home, the people they meet on the way and the sights they see, create an individual sense of sanctuary and personal journey for each individual, as their path is different. The architecture associated with these journeys informs one’s outlook on the world around them. One’s associations with the emotions surrounding safety and calmness, of awaited rest and sanctuary, are felt deeper and more specific than most. A person’s home or most frequented environment alerts them to many parts of themselves. “What makes me feel seen in this space?” is one question that comes to mind about both the architectural and cultural ’feel’ of a space. Arriving at the answer to this question and attempting to bridge the gap between the nuanced feeling of ‘returning to familiarity’ is a possible way of gaining a better understanding of this profession, as well as linking the designer to these feelings. In this essay I will explore the personal relevancies to me the writer, of arriving at the word “Ukugoduka” and its importance to my design process, as well as how the architecture around me currently succeeds or fails to relate to my life and nuanced experiences as a young designer and African person, who is exposed to isiXhosa and the broader Xhosa culture.?
In “isiXhosa” the term “ukugoduka” mainly refers to one’s journey back to the homelands, their main homestead. It’s a term which isn’t used in a causal context for example: of returning home from the shops, but rather suggests returning home intentionally and in the finality of something prior. As such, many people also use the term to describe their departure from work after a long day, as there is a sense of that final journey of the day. There is an assumption of a long journey ahead, which transcends a person spiritually and physically on this return home. I can relate to this description of the word, as my family originates in Transkei, in an area called “Lusikisiki”. It is a nine-hour drive from our current home in Johannesburg and is a journey that’s felt both physically and emotionally. One’s context continues to change, as they travel through different towns and landscapes, sometimes even weather conditions. Many a time I’ve found myself with anecdotal experiences shared with my closest people, my parents; I experienced Eastern Cape snow with them for the first time, I drove long-distance with them as my passengers for the first time, and far more often than most people I see Blue Cranes, a rarity known to not many people in South Africa.? In this way, the word “ukugoduka” expands to not only one’s home and their feelings towards it, but the world which surrounds that dwelling.??
The concept of not removing one’s context and environment from their dwelling space or the architecture is an important concept to address in the design, as this can make or break the functionality of the design completely. If consumers cannot relate to the design, nor does the design respond to the environment in which it’s situated, it can be said to have failed (symbolic, 2022). In the (Southern) African context, this is an important realisation to make as an architect, as the region is faced with various ecological challenges such as water scarcity, uneven and unoptimizable terrain, as well as financial limitations. South Africa is considered a water-scarce country, sourcing its water from neighbouring country Lesotho, respectively (Www.gov.za, 2021). As an analytical example, one can see how designing a building or structure which ignores the infrastructure and natural systems around it, in terms of water can raise the cost of not only building but also maintaining said structure. In my neighbourhood of Houghton Estate, in the Northern suburbs of Johannesburg, unsustainable water consumption is seen in various ways. The townhouse complex that my family and I stay in has eight units, all with their own pools and irrigation systems, which run day and night, come rain or shine (Saba, 2016). As a family we have rarely used the pool in the three years of staying here and as such, there is a body of water which remains unaccounted for and unusable due to chemical interference. This is greatly juxtaposed with the water shortages and cuts our area gets almost fortnightly. Suppose the design of the complex addressed and worked towards a better blend between environment and infrastructure. In that case, these pools may have been largely unconsidered due to their impracticality, in the southern African context of water scarcity and drought. These considerations have largely been ignored for decades, perhaps centuries as we approach 2023. The persistent effort by corporations to stay on the edge rather than conform to more environmentally sustainable design methods in past years has caused a complete dissonance in people’s relation to their natural environments.??
Though there are many beautiful sites and experiences to gain on the journey back home for my family and I to the Eastern Cape, I cannot begin to describe the sadness and altered state of being when I see these landscapes littered with filth, suffering ecological changes such as soil creep, drought and even flooding. The breakdown in the environment due to climate change and mismanagement is beyond improvement in my opinion; alongside the corruption in the region, much of the infrastructure was built to fail and as a result, built to break the environment. The Eastern Cape National Park has lost all its animals to poaching and theft, as well as much of its natural environment to the development of squatter camps. My journey home has continued to change through the years and the quality of this experience has rapidly declined due to all the issues which have developed. Perhaps this in part is what directed me to study architecture, as it became ever so relevant to me that there needs to be a change in the relationship between society and the natural environment. To return to the integrated experience of travels back to one’s life, homestead and ‘origin of being’ is a profound approach to design, which has the potential to influence such activity and life in our environments as people.?
In one’s journey and understanding of home, is a set of activities, structures and maybe even rules which accommodate and protect the ecosystem of that dwelling. As architects, I feel it is important for us to realize these components and processes of design, to build a world more fulfilling and representing who we are as people, as well as where we’ve come from and where we plan to go. A lack of understanding of these ideals can cause great detachment in the way one approaches the architectural design process, and perhaps the definition of “returning home” can be expanded in this way: to return to a set of ideals which promote and upkeep life as you know it, in its safest and most personal contexts.??
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