Gangs, guns and bibles in Cape Town: What it takes to quit a life of violence and stay alive

“Blood in and blood out” is a well-known saying in the townships of Cape Town, South Africa. It refers to the violent initiation rituals often needed to enter a gang – and the likelihood of being killed before one can get out. These are the perils that people face when entering and trying to exit the estimated 130 gangs that control various parts of the city.

“Getting into gangs is easy, but getting out is impossible” is another popular saying in Cape Town’s gang-affected neighbourhoods. It also gives the impression that gang membership inevitably ends violently. That’s seemingly confirmed by murder statistics showing an average of two gang-related deaths in and around Cape Town every day.

Much has been written about gangs in the city. Researchers have described, for example, how gangsterism found its origins in the institutionalised violence and social disorder imposed by white supremacy under apartheid. Scholars have also written about how gang membership offers opportunities – self-protection, income and dignity – in areas where the post-apartheid state fails to provide adequate development and governance. But there is a lack of writing on gang exit in Cape Town. This reinforces the idea that gangsterism is a death sentence.

But gangsters do get out. As a social scientist I write about this in my book Gang Entry and Exit in Cape Town.

The book is based on the life histories of 24 former gang members, as well as hundreds of hours of additional interviews and observations from years of research. It shows that male and female gangsters – some trapped in gangs, substance abuse, prison, and extreme violence for over a decade – turn to family, work and religion when trying to get out.

The redemptive role of religion, especially, is central for those trying to trade street life for “normal life”.

Patrick

About 97% of South Africans declare some form of religious affiliation. The vast majority are Christian. Current and former gang participants are among the believers.

Religious membership can promote positive social networks, offer guidance for repairing relationships, and give social support and acceptance. Importantly, my research shows that spirituality also offers ex-gangsters a model for handling conflict, as well as a way to convince others – especially other gang members – that their change can be trusted.

Take Patrick (29), a former member of the Laughing Boys. Patrick used to believe that “the more people you hurt, the more people fear you”. Now he thinks differently:

I started attending church more often, reading my Bible, I helped out (at) home. With that I also learned a little bit of humility towards other people and not just to care about myself as much.

He describes how he would put on the performance of a kerk broer (church brother) when walking past his former gang brothers with a Bible, a kind word, and a deferential demeanour. This is essential to remind them of his exit from gangs, just as wearing silver chains and sneakers, speaking in slang, stabbing and shooting used to show people that he was a real gangster – not to be messed with.

Patrick admits that religion is not only about piety. It is also about performance:

I want my change to be visible, to be known by everybody that I’m not that type of person anymore.

Stigma and distrust of ex-gangsters is a key stumbling block along the journey towards gang exit. The hope is that if he can walk the righteous path for long enough, people’s memories of Patrick the Laughing Boy will be replaced by an acceptance of Patrick the church brother.

Getting to that point is not without peril, though. Like most participants in this study, poverty and limited social networks keep him trapped in the community he grew up in – and within striking distance of other gangsters. One day he was ambushed and almost assassinated by a former foe. He told me:

He didn’t have a gun fortunately, that day he wanted to kill me. I actually came from church on a Sunday walking with my Bible. He jumped out his car and said: You taking chances to even f-ing walk here … So your past can come back to haunt you.

Emerson

Emerson (43) had been part of Cape Town’s biggest gang, The Americans, for over 20 years. He served 16 separate stints in prison, mainly for violent crimes. He said:

If we get into an argument I won’t still finish talking, I will pull out my gun or knife.

Emerson now leans heavily on scripture to guide his disengagement process, and in particular to deal with conflict without violence. He described, for instance, a robbery attempt:

He’s standing over me with this brick. And I’m thinking that this guy is going to hit me … I just relied on God. His word says, ‘No weapon formed against you shall prosper.’ The Bible tells you about meekness.

Emerson also knew that playing the pious man meant showing the outside world his commitment to non-violence was real – even if meant getting hurt.

I cannot operate like I used to if I get into situations like with that robber. Because people are watching to see how I react. The gangs are watching. I knew I had to resist and forgive this guy.

As luck would have it, the attacker stalked off, likely surprised by his would-be victim’s passive reaction. But Emerson was left conflicted:

When I walked away, that’s when it started. I thought: how can I let that guy do that? Does this guy know who I am in the (gangs)? It was very hard. I started crying also, thinking that this thing happened and I did nothing.

Emerson had to fight off two threats that day. First the robbery and then this emotional reaction to it. This almost pushed him towards revenge, seeking “blood for blood” as gangsters are expected to do.

Like others in this book, Emerson didn’t experience gang exit as a single decision to change. It was a long, continuous confluence of deliberation, doubt, hope, introspection, trauma and resolution, which tangled together in complicated and sometimes contradictory ways. Eventually he got to the point where he was more out of gangs than in.

Of course, leaving gangs is a precarious process that gives no guarantee of safety. So Emerson and others took what precautions they could. Along with work and family, turning to religion gave them the best chance to stay alive until their family and neighbours accepted them, gang-mates forgot about them, and beefs with their rivals waned – showing that leaving gangs in Cape Town is difficult, but not impossible.

Gang Entry and Exit in Cape Town: Getting Beyond the Streets in Africa’s Deadliest City is now available in South Africa through UJ Press.

Dariusz Dziewanski, Honorary research affiliate, Centre of Criminology, University of Cape Town

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.