SOUTH AFRICA: After decades of being confined to poor shantytowns, a black middle class is emerging in the new South Africa. Declan Walsh reports from bright, confident Soweto
Vilakazi Street, in the heart of Soweto township, is lined with the landmarks of South Africa's liberation struggle. A memorial marks the spot where Hector Pieterson, a 13-year-old schoolboy, was shot dead in 1976, sparking the Soweto uprising.
Further down the street are the homes of Nelson Mandela and Archbishop Desmond Tutu - the world's only address to boast two Nobel peace laureates. But if it once incubated the black political revolution, today Vilakazi Street is nurturing the financial one.
"Beverly Hills" is the new nickname residents have given this upmarket corner. Tidy redbrick maisonettes with cable TV have replaced the rows of shoddy housing. Camera-toting tourists walk the street; some even stay the night. And at weekends polished BMW and Mercedes cars pull up outside Nambitha, a trendy terraced bar which serves expensive beer and loud music to South Africa's new black elite.
"This is Soweto and this is how we are, modern and sophisticated," said Khulani Vilakazi, the 31-year-old entrepreneur who built Nambitha last year and after whose grandfather the street is named.
After decades of economic and educational discrimination, a black middle class is emerging in South Africa. Blacks are taking up positions in business, boardrooms and golf clubs which were once the preserve of moneyed whites. Even the stuffy Rand Club in downtown Johannesburg now has black members.
According to economist Sampie Terreblanche, the income of the richest blacks has risen 30 per cent since 1994. A government Black Economic Empowerment (BEE) scheme, which sets quotas for skilled positions and discriminates in favour of black firms in public tendering, helps to nudge them up the ladder.
"We've moved from zero to about 10 per cent of company ownership, and 15 per cent in skilled positions. And that is just the start of it," said Lionel October, deputy director-general at the Department of Trade and Industry.
At Nambitha, nearly all the customers were born in Soweto, but some have made it rich and moved to the plush northern suburbs, such as Sandton or Rivonia.
But, come night-time, they speed down the ring motorway for a night out at home, said Mr Vilakazi.
"Why should there be luxury in the white suburbs only? We can run our own businesses right here in Soweto," he said.
A handful of black tycoons have entered the ranks of the mega-rich. Most have old links with the ANC, such as struggle hero Cyril Ramaphosa, or Tokyo Sexwale, a charismatic former politician. But for the country's millions of poor, affirmative action is no more than just a nice idea.
Apartheid's most visible legacy is a stark inequality which rivals only that of Brazil. According to one estimate, 50 per cent of the population - 23 million people - earned just 3.3 per cent of its income. In contrast, a tiny slice at the top controls 72 per cent. At one time, this elite was exclusively white, but that is no longer the case.
The gaps between rich and poor blacks are the starkest of all. While the rich thrive, those without jobs - 40 per cent of South Africans - have seen incomes dive by 10 per cent in the past decade. The widening gap is an uncomfortable reality for those who do make it.
"I always feel guilty when I go out with my girlfriends and buy a bottle of Moet & Chandon at 700 rand (€85)," said Molebatsi Pooe-Shongwe, a trainee lawyer from a wealthy family. "Or if the bill is for 3,500 rand (€420), you realise that is survival for 20 people, and you've blown it on lunch."
Black Economic Empowerment's efforts to redress the inequalities have run into problems. BEE obliges private companies to draft a plan showing that they are moving towards hiring more blacks, particularly in management positions. But, ironically, the scheme's success is hamstrung by the shortage of blacks to fill those coveted jobs.
Under apartheid's Bantu education system, blacks were directed away from maths and sciences. As a result, there is a chronic skills shortage in certain areas. Just 1 per cent of South Africa's chartered accountants are black, for example, a pattern repeated across numerous professions.
As a result, some blacks command a salary premium of up to 20 per cent, and employers complain that the policy creates distortions in the job market.
Some analysts compare the new wealth division in South Africa to a double-decker bus which, to some extent, cuts across racial lines. The Nambitha customers are on the top deck. Protea, a squalid settlement of tin shacks on the other side of Soweto, is definitely on the bottom.
Disillusionment with the black-led government is setting in, said Sylvia Ngwenya (57). She went on to explain that, ironically, economic conditions were better under apartheid.
"We used to struggle with them," she said, referring to the ANC fighters-turned-tycoons, such as Cyril Ramaphosa. "But now we think they have left us behind."