Lenasia was never meant to succeed. Designed in the 1950s as an Indian-only township under the Group Areas Act, it was built far from Johannesburg’s economic heart. But instead of collapsing under that isolation, residents built something that lasted. They constructed homes, schools, mosques, temples, and a culture of civic involvement.
Today, that spirit remains, but the weight of outdated infrastructure, poor transport links, and shifting politics has forced the community to ask hard questions about its future.
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A Township Shaped by Planning, Not by People
“The name Lenasia is a paradox in itself,” said researcher Zayd Ebrahim. “It reflects the kind of separation apartheid enforced.”
Created through forced relocations, Lenasia took in families from Pageview, Fordsburg, and other inner-city areas. They were moved more than 30 kilometres south, away from jobs and access to services. Designed for only 50,000 people, the township now holds over 110,000. If informal settlements like Thembelihle are included, that number rises even higher. This population growth has overwhelmed electricity, water systems, and roads that have not been upgraded since democracy began.
Despite this, early residents did not wait for help. They pooled money, shared labour, and created spaces of belonging. “They co-produced their own environment,” said Ebrahim. “That laid the foundation for what Lenasia is today.” Yet apartheid’s planning still defines daily life.
Lenasia is physically disconnected from the city, and transport infrastructure has not bridged the gap. Commutes to the north often take over two hours. Plans to include Lenasia in the Rea Vaya transport network remain largely unrealised. Private cars and informal taxis are the main options, which increases household costs and deepens the divide between where people live and where they work.
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Politics, Activism, and the Need for Accountability
Lenasia has never been politically quiet. In the 1980s, young people, religious leaders, and community activists led anti-apartheid campaigns. That legacy of resistance still shows up in today’s efforts to fight housing delays, poor service delivery, and infrastructure neglect.
But politics have shifted. From early ANC control to a more fragmented local government, Lenasia now sees frequent changes in party leadership. Coalition politics have created instability. “It is no longer about party loyalty,” said Ebrahim. “It is about who can organise around service delivery and who can hold public officials to account.”
Community spaces remain at the centre of local activism. Mosques, temples, and churches have doubled as meeting places, food banks, and platforms for civic discussions. Schools, sports clubs, and cultural centres have also taken on new roles in supporting youth and encouraging local engagement.
This activism is not nostalgic. It is urgent. “People want answers,” said Ebrahim. “They want working taps, working lights, and a say in how their future is shaped.”
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The Heart of Lenasia is Not in Its Roads
Even with transport challenges and aging infrastructure, Lenasia’s people remain its greatest asset. Over 16 percent of residents have tertiary qualifications. Around 75 percent of working-age people are employed, many commuting to jobs outside the township. Families often organise carpools or use shared resources to survive long travel times and limited services.
Younger families struggle to settle in the area due to rising costs and fewer opportunities, but the township’s identity still rests in its community strength. “The strength of Lenasia isn’t in its infrastructure,” said Ebrahim. “It is in its people. People care. Governments need to care too.”
The idea of a “caring city” means more than paved roads or working electricity. It means reconnecting parts of Johannesburg that were designed to be apart. For Lenasia to thrive, neighbouring areas like Soweto, Orange Farm, and Ennerdale must also grow. Development cannot be isolated. It must be collective.
Lenasia offers a blueprint. It shows what happens when people build from nothing, and what they can still achieve. But it also warns what happens when cities stop listening. The next chapter will depend on whether planning and politics finally catch up to the people who have always done the work.
Image credit: Sunday World
