School holidays in the early 1960’s were characterised by children playing hopscotch on wide sidewalks, the sound of marbles crashing onto the sand and the rhythmic whirl of skipping ropes slicing through the air.

For my dad, Daat Oosthuizen, holidays meant mounting his bicycle as the sun peeked over the horizon, ready to brave the long and dusty road from his Primrose home to visit his cousin’s plot on Great North Road, where Farrarmere now proudly stands.

From there, the duo would set off to Bullfrog Pan on Huckleberry Finn-like adventures.

Years later, he would become hypnotised by the clinking of the rails, as he commuted to Liverpool Road to attend the Benoni Technical High School, now known as Hoërskool Hans Moore.

For the past four years, I have fallen head over heels in love with Benoni, its beautiful scenery, and its people.

Sharing my passion for the city that has stolen my heart and played an integral role in my dad’s formative years, I decided to take the parents on a round trip through the streets I work on daily.

Armed with a flask of coffee, we set off on my meticulously thought-out route, ‘tour guide-like’ bits of trivia locked in to entertain my passengers.

The trip was designed to boast, but instead I was humbled by my parents’ awe, as if they had set foot into a fantastical world that lay far beyond our borders.

“There in the corner! That’s where our Afrikaans class used to be and that part there in the front- well, you cannot see that it used to be a class. Still, I used to sit and watch the trains coming in and out of the station,” said dad, his voice hitching in his throat, looking at the skeleton of the institution that cemented his future career.

“It’s all gone; just left to decay.”

Next stop and in an attempt to lighten the sombre mood that had joined our journey, the Korsman’s Bird Sanctuary summoned.

Sipping on a cup of steaming coffee, mom Willa and dad happily exchanged greetings with the wave of joggers and ambling walkers, watching as feathered residents skied across the water, enjoying their preserved and sacred space.

“I could sit here for hours. This peace is unheard of in the midst of a bustling city,” exclaimed mom.

“This is a slice of heaven.”

Back on the winding suburban roads through Benoni’s pristine suburbs, we made our way to Homestead and CR Swart dams, as well as Bullfrog Pan; a proud moment as I announced to my passengers that the beauty and cleanliness they are witnessing is largely due to the efforts of community-driven organisations such as Clean Projects and Homestead Helpers for Benoni.

As canoes glided across the waters of Homestead Dam, children immersed in a game of tag on the banks of CR Swart Dam, and the deafening silence of Bullfrog Pan, a sense of calm and relaxation spread as they took in the sprawling beauty laid before them.

“I can see why you love this place,” said mom, her arm wrapped around my waist.

“It is truly magical, a gem which is not only loved but looked after by those who call this home.”

The drive back home to Boksburg seemed like a tiresome trek through harsh concrete, the only waterbodies being gaping potholes filled with stagnant, oozing water.

When I say I love Benoni, it is not some tagline that I have adopted.

Watching how ‘outsiders’ to the Benoni community not only perceive our city’s attractions but also immediately feel comfortable in its community is a testament to her heart.

Community spirit, shared values and preservation of her natural beauty are what make Benoni the jewel of the East Rand.

It is not that our city enjoys preferential service delivery or that social ills have elected to nest in other cities – through the taking of hands, continued support, and the innate appreciation for her beauty, Benoni is a flourishing hub curated by her people.

It may not be our home and is definitely on my bucket list as a new address should I fall into an enormous amount of money. However, Benoni is a place that nestles deep in your heart.

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