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IOL News
a day ago
- General
- IOL News
Safety railings finally installed along Victoria Road in Clifton after public outcry
The City of Cape Town has restored the barrier on Victoria Road, Clifton after Weekend Argus story on the issue Image: Tracy-Lynn Ruiters/ Independent Media After nearly a year of repeated appeals, warnings, and growing frustration, railings along a hazardous stretch of Victoria Road in Clifton have finally been installed—just days after the matter was publicly highlighted. Heron Water, a luxury apartment block located just below 64 Victoria Road and overlooking the iconic Clifton 1st Beach, has been at the centre of a safety dispute with the City of CapeTown since mid-2024. Despite commanding property values of up to R30 million and offering direct beach access, residents said they remain concerned about ongoing safety issues amid deteriorating site conditions. For the past year, residents and contractors had raised the alarm over a collapsed fence, rusted balustrades, and a steep, unstable slope directly beside a public sidewalk. In July2024, the situation worsened when a burst water main in Victoria Road caused a major mudslide, sending debris onto the property and further weakening the embankment. Property Management company SKPM informed Weekend Argus that just five days after the article was published the railings were put into place. DKZA Construction (Pty) Ltd, the appointed contractor at Heron Waters, said they are grateful it is finally done, although there were newly planted trees damaged by the installer. Video Player is loading. Play Video Play Unmute Current Time 0:00 / Duration -:- Loaded : 0% Stream Type LIVE Seek to live, currently behind live LIVE Remaining Time - 0:00 This is a modal window. Beginning of dialog window. Escape will cancel and close the window. Text Color White Black Red Green Blue Yellow Magenta Cyan Transparency Opaque Semi-Transparent Background Color Black White Red Green Blue Yellow Magenta Cyan Transparency Opaque Semi-Transparent Transparent Window Color Black White Red Green Blue Yellow Magenta Cyan Transparency Transparent Semi-Transparent Opaque Font Size 50% 75% 100% 125% 150% 175% 200% 300% 400% Text Edge Style None Raised Depressed Uniform Dropshadow Font Family Proportional Sans-Serif Monospace Sans-Serif Proportional Serif Monospace Serif Casual Script Small Caps Reset restore all settings to the default values Done Close Modal Dialog End of dialog window. Advertisement Next Stay Close ✕ Ad loading After recent rains, water and mud was dripping down on the expensive properties below. Now the City has replaced the New Jersey barriers Image: Tracy-Lynn Ruiters/ Independent Media 'It is a pity we had to endure 12 months of shifting emails from table to table (even involving councillors). The person appointed by the City could have handled this matter more swiftly (as promised) after the first time he arrived on site in 2024. "But unfortunately he failed his duties the taxpayers pay for." The contractor also claimed the comments made by the City's Mayoral Committee Member for Urban Mobility in the media was 'false information' supplied by the City's contractor. 'This is not the only balustrade that needs replacement/attention along Victoria Road. And Ihope this matter enlightens the City of Cape Town.' Councillor Rob Quintas, the City's Mayoral Committee Member for Urban Mobility, said: 'This is to confirm that the railings infrastructure has been erected by the City's Roads Infrastructure Management Department. The work was completed on Tuesday, 3 June2025.' Councillor Nicola Powell added that once the work is completed it will mean that the sidewalk is a bit more open with the New Jersey barriers removed. 'It will also be visually much more pleasing. This is in Clifton, not Sea Point.'
IOL News
3 days ago
- General
- IOL News
R35,000 in 30 Minutes: The world rallies to help little Zoë hear for the first time
Tracy Olivari and her beautiful daughter Zoë Image: Supplied Just days after her heartfelt plea appeared in the Weekend Argus, Tracy Olivari from Goodwood received the kind of news that changes lives forever. In a bid to raise R35,000 for her daughter Zoë's hearing assessment and treatment — a crucial step before the young girl starts Grade 1 — Tracy never imagined how quickly help would come. Thanks to international support, including a powerful boost from American YouTuber Colonel Chris Wyatt, the full amount was raised in just 30 minutes. 'I'm still trying to wrap my head around it,' Tracy shared. 'I thought I'd be waiting months — I didn't expect this to happen in three days, let alone in under an hour. I'm completely overwhelmed.' Four-year-old Zoë's story of being born prematurely at just seven months, and was given only hours to live, touched many people, including Wyatt, a retired US Army colonel known for spotlighting South African stories. Wyatt, shared Zoë's story with his audience, who responded almost instantly — giving Zoë not only a chance to hear for the first time, but the opportunity to start school on equal footing with her peers. Tracy with a brave little Zoë Image: Supplied An appointment has already been booked with an audiologist for 17 June, just ahead of the new school term. It marks the beginning of a long-awaited journey for Zoë, who has never been able to hear since birth and in turn affected her speech. 'At least now, I can take her for proper assessments. That's something I couldn't do before,' Tracy said. 'It's going to be life-changing for her — and for us as a family.' The generosity didn't stop with donations. Cape Town's Fire and Rescue Services also jumped into action to help make one of Zoë's dreams come true. Jermaine Carelse, spokesperson for the City of Cape Town's Fire and Rescue Services, immediately reached out to the Weekend Argus after reading Zoë's story. He offered her a personal tour of the Goodwood Fire Station — her favourite place. 'Most of us in the Fire Service are parents, and we all know the daily struggles and joys our kids bring to our lives,' said Carelse. 'Sometimes, the little moments — like bringing your child to a fire station — become the big ones. And who doesn't want to be a firefighter? We will make Zoë's day extremely special. We also want to show appreciation to Tracy, who is a single parent, and still giving 200% to make memories each day.' Tracy said she wants to stay transparent and keep supporters updated, and has launched a YouTube channel where she will document Zoë's journey — from diagnosis to treatment, and hopefully to the moment she hears for the first time. 'I want people to see where the money is going. I want them to feel a part of this journey. It's their kindness that made it possible.' Tracy recalled the exact moment everything changed. 'I had just left the office, and the campaign had only hit R1,100. My faith was low. I told myself I wouldn't keep checking because I'd just stress myself out. Then I got a call from my mum. She said, 'Tracy, we made it. Go and look.' When I saw that we'd gone over the target, I just cried. I was laughing, crying, silent — everything at once.' Even Zoë's older sister, just eight years old, was moved to tears. 'She said she's so excited to finally hear her sister's voice. We just held each other and cried.' Zoe Olivari Image: Supplied For Tracy, the journey is about more than just hearing aids or doctor's appointments. It's about the everyday moments most take for granted. 'She doesn't know what a bird sounds like. She's never heard my voice. I can't call out to her when she runs off — I just have to follow. I can't wait to hear her say: 'I love you, Mommy'. To hear it — not just feel it — that will be everything '2025 — who would've thought this would be the year everything turned around? It's a reminder that God really does come through. And that there are still incredibly good people in the world.' 'To every single person who donated — from the bottom of my heart, thank you. You've done more than help my daughter hear. You've shown us love, hope, and humanity. 'Thank you for the prayers especially- there is really power in prayer =. To the Fire department, thank you for reaching out, I know Zoë is going to love experiencing the big fire trucks, she's always been fascinated with it. 'And to the Weekend Argus — thank you for helping us tell our story…Thank you for being the one publication who got back to me. You helped change our lives.' [email protected] Weekend Argus
IOL News
27-05-2025
- Health
- IOL News
Karin Harmse: A beacon of hope now in need of support
Karin with her husband Anton and their baby girl Image: Supplied For decades, Karin Harmse, 64, has stood as a beacon of strength and compassion for children fighting cancer, rare diseases, and life-threatening conditions. As the founder of the non-profit organisation Arms of Mercy, she has given tirelessly — offering not only financial support to families in crisis, but also comfort, encouragement, and hope in the darkest of times. But now, the tables have turned. Karin is facing serious health challenges of her own, and the woman who has helped so many now finds herself in urgent need of help. 'She pours her heart and soul into Arms of Mercy,' said her husband, Anton Harmse. 'Day after day, she witnesses the pain and suffering of families in crisis and never hesitates to be a source of comfort, hope, and unwavering strength. Her compassion knows no bounds.' Karin has been diagnosed with a malformed gallbladder, which specialists say cannot be surgically removed due to risks from prior operations. She has also recently developed severe anaemia, with critically low iron levels requiring urgent iron infusion treatments. Further tests are needed to determine whether internal bleeding is the cause — tests which have already been postponed twice due to financial constraints. 'We know this cannot wait much longer,' said Anton. 'Untreated anaemia can become life-threatening.' Her health struggles didn't stop there. Over the past three years, Karin's vision has deteriorated significantly. She has already lost sight in one eye due to irreversible retinal damage. The vision in her remaining eye is now under threat. Two years ago, she was scheduled for cataract removal and a specialised lens implant to preserve her sight — but the costs proved too great. 'She is in the hands of trusted specialists,' said Anton, 'but time is slipping away.' Despite these challenges, Karin continues to run a small home-based business while caring for a foster child. 'As the sole provider, I do my best,' Anton said, 'but I can no longer carry this alone. It is incredibly difficult for me to say this, but we need help.' The Harmse family is now appealing for R25,000 to cover Karin's urgent medical costs, including diagnostic tests, treatments, and surgery to save her vision. 'My wife has given so much of herself to others,' said Anton. 'Now, I am asking from the depths of my heart for compassion in return. Please consider standing by her in this moment. Your support would mean the world to us and could be life-changing for her.' Anyone wanting to help Karin can visit the back-a-buddy page [email protected] Weekend Argus
Daily Maverick
23-05-2025
- Automotive
- Daily Maverick
Herds of motorbikes, devil chimneys, and the many roads to and from home
The boys were in a wooden cat box on the front passenger seat. Sean was about eight years old then, the most handsome ginger that ever lived. Chai was just five, a thoughtful chocolate Burmese with a nervous disposition who craved my protection. The car, a 2005 Kia saloon that was to give me endless trouble in the three years to follow, was so thoroughly packed that I could barely see out of the rear window. Weighing it down further was a bright green 30kg plastic tub of kalamata olives that had been delivered to a hotel in the Dutoitskloof Pass. This would form the basis of my future olive tapenade at the tearoom we were about to take over in Cradock. Back in the car after two studly young men have winched it onto the rear seat, I stroke the kitties' noses through the chicken mesh grille of the box and start the engine. Click, silence. Battery kaput. I need to get to Cradock before nightfall; I had lousy night vision, even then. (It's much worse now.) I can still picture their astonished faces The dudes who had been sent to help me looked at me the way men look at the sort of man who doesn't know about car engines, and sauntered off to fetch the sort of things that men who do know about car engines fetch when they need to help an idiot. At which point I found myself idly turning the ignition. And the engine purred into life. I can still picture their astonished faces. Cheers, A-type dudes! De Doorns and Touws River pass by unnoticed, and even my beloved Matjiesfontein swishes by, with no chance of that lamb curry I've ordered a hundred times, or those four lamb chops. But at Laingsburg, 200km later, when I emerged from the Steers after a very late breakfast (because I was scared to stop before then in case the car wouldn't start), you know what happened. I'd thought that two hours of driving would be enough to recharge the battery. It was noon. A yellow AA bakkie from Laingsburg took two hours to reach me. Laingsburg is 27km away. I finally departed, new battery having been installed, after 2pm. Sandra Antrobus, who had everything to do with our move to Cradock, had said to me: Tony, be very careful, especially for the last part of the drive. It's in the final 20km of a journey that most accidents happen. From Laingsburg, you stay on the N1 for the 199km to Beaufort West, then turn right at the BP garage for the 146km to Aberdeen, where normally I'd stop at the Camdeboo farmstall for a coffee. But I continued for the 55km to Graaff-Reinet, after which you course via three strikingly similar passes — it's hard to tell them apart until you know the route better — and then turn right onto the R61 via Wapadsberg towards Cradock, 93km on. I looked to my left as the three seemingly identical koppies that guard the approach to Cradock drifted by. The 'Cradock 20' sign eyed me dolefully. I wrote this a few days later for my then column in Weekend Argus, picking up the story around Aberdeen: Eerie koppies with devil chimneys 'I drive madly, rashly, but with desperate concentration, because I have to make it on time and safely. I have never been more focused behind the wheel. I push speeds 20km/h faster than I have ever done. Best I don't name the speeds. The day slips by in a welter of tension and fretting, scenes of endless Karoo veld, eerie koppies with devil chimneys, aloe-clad hillsides and occasional sheep, cattle and stray vervet monkeys whipping past me on fast-forward. 'Wapadsberg behind me, the sun dipping low, I pass the 20km sign as I can see the mountains near Cradock. I remind myself that it is in the last stretch of a long journey that most accidents happen, as you start to relax and push through the last few kilometres. I relax a little, the road curves, and the car is off the road. Screeching, gravel churning. Cats yowling. I manage to find the tar again but now the car is careering wildly left and right as I try to regain control. The cat box turns on its side, things are falling on top of me out of the back seat, and I'm steering desperately with one hand while slowing and uprighting the cat box with the other, making soothing noises to the terrified felines. 'When calm returns, I call the cats each by name, listening for their distinctive voices. I hear both voices in reply, and soon Cradock arrives. The olives, like the cats and their stupid, rash owner, survive to tell the tale. This tale. Within days, some of the olives will be marinating in lemon zest and juice, olive oil, rosemary and garlic. For now, they're just home. And so are we.' A decade later there would be different cats, soon to be in our car, but this time moving to Cape Town with us. Behind us there will be years of memories, journeys, braais, writers' festivals, and even a house named after me in Market Street. All of it impossible to imagine on that day in September 2014. Sean and Chai lived happy Karoo lives for years after that, first in the Schreiner Tearoom in Market Street and then in our home, until the time came for them to leave us, first Sean, and then Chai the following year. Chai had gone blind, first in one eye and then the other, because of over-breeding of these beautiful cats by humans more interested in their potential in competitions than their welfare and health. Chai, I decided as a consequence, would be my last Burmese. Oblivious of our strange human ways, the pair of them, and now our girls Sky and Bo, saw us go off many times in the big grumbling beast, to places their kitty minds couldn't imagine. With every trip, we got to know the Karoo and its long roads better. Who knows how many trips there have been to Cape Town and back, often using a different route for the return journey. Often, we'd stop overnight at Matjiesfontein en route there. That had us in the city by lunch time, but on other occasions we'd leave Cape Town after lunch to arrive in Matjiesfontein for the night, then have the six-hour drive home the next day. At successive Karoo Writers Festivals in Cradock, people such as Lisba Vosloo, a filmmaker and fellow Schreinerphile, would urge me to try Route 62 next time. Only slightly longer than the N1 route, I was told, but hardly any trucks and very scenic. Once we'd done that, it soon became my favourite, unless time was a factor, in which case the N1 it would be. It's not so much that Route 62 is much longer, it's just more conducive to distractions and lingering too long at stops along the way. Route 62 — 'I'm back in the Karoo' Route 62 is the best route by far if you want to reach Cradock from the Western Cape. These days, we leave the city on the N1. When you get to Worcester, you cruise along, at 100km an hour for fear of a traffic fine, until you're at the last robot before you've passed the town. Here you turn right and weave your way to the road to Robertson, where you stop at The Four Cousins for breakfast or coffee and a snack. The Four Cousins has a lovely wine and spirits shop. They even have sturdy little metal barrels of beer. And live chickens. Driving on for about 15km you come to Ashton, and only 6km further on you're in Montagu, and for the first time you feel, 'I'm back in the Karoo.' Montagu is quite possibly the prettiest town in the country, so perfectly beautiful that you wish you could live there. Which you may not be able to do unless you're one of those blessed (or cursed) with too much money. Everything is green as you leave Montagu and head towards Barrydale, and even as you approach this sought-after town it's all very 'Western Cape' and postcard-worthy. You order a melktert milkshake at Diesel & Crème and only four spoonfuls in you realise that there's enough ice cream in it to ground a Zeppelin and you'll need a six-month diet to survive it. Even as you drive out of Barrydale towards Ronnie's Sex Shop, the terrain has changed to something distinctly more Karoo-like. Not the skeleton-dry aridity of the far Northern Cape — the least attractive region of the Karoo — but a gentler, prettier sort of dryness. The kind of Karoo that makes sheep happy and cattle listless. There are always macho motorbikes parked in the gravel lot outside Ronnie's. Those five bikes that roared past you 15 minutes earlier are now still and quiet, their owners ordering the food and drinks that bikers order when you're not looking in your rear view mirror while you move over to let them pass. But I'll come back to this… The Huisrivier Pass once you've driven through placid Ladismith is a granite spectacle. The towering Huisrivier mountains, a spur of the Swartberg, distract your eye from the winding road with its retaining walls and cutaways for viewing the glory all around. Suddenly the pass is behind you and Calitzdorp is ahead. A bottle of port (yes, I call it that, sue me) from De Krans or Bo-Plaas is worth a diversion in winter, and once you pull out of town it's only 54km to Oudtshoorn where, I must be honest, we never stop other than for petrol or some chops and salads from the Spar on the main drag through town. This is because of our love for De Rust, only 35km away, sitting snugly against the mountains just before you would drive into achingly beautiful Meiringspoort which has seared itself into my soul. Continue that way and you reach Klaarstroom and then, turning left, Prince Albert via a long and verdant valley. After Meiringspoort you have two ways of returning to the N1, in fact — straight on to Beaufort West or left to Prince Albert and on to the N1 at Prince Albert Road. These are options to consider if you like mixing and matching your routes. But it's rare that we go that way, as, after leaving De Rust, we need to turn right towards Willowmore and then on to Aberdeen. This is where we connect with the other route, via Beaufort West, so the rest of this route home is identical to the shorter route. But don't just drive by Williston if you come this way. It's small but pretty, with interesting little shops selling all sorts, a café or two, and even one of the Karoo's Royal Hotels. Unlike the much trendier Barrydale, it is unspoilt and very much the kind of dorp found in an earlier version of the Karoo. Once, we stayed at The Willow, an historical guest house filled with memories of apartheid. It's the strangest place, a curiosity which, I thought then and think now, is an ideal way to give a tourist some kind of idea what it was like to live during the dark decades of oppression. I see online that it is still operating. But thoughts quickly brighten when we're back on the maddeningly straight road to Aberdeen. On this stretch, pull into the eccentricity that is Oppi-Vlak padstal, where animals cluck, quack and grunt and the gifts and souvenirs are abundant. And here we are in Aberdeen again, where the R61 from Beaufort West connects with the N9 from George and Willowmore. I'm picturing the white Kia roaring by en route to the 'Cradock 20' sign, and wary silence in the cat box. A scenic wonder often overlooked Reaching Cradock from Cape Town via the N2 is by far the longest route, but it does have the Garden Route and that excellent drive through Tsitsikamma forest before you wave at Jeffrey's Bay as you cruise by towards Port Elizabeth, as it was still called when first we traversed the N2 to Cape Town or back from it. You can count on a yawn-inducing 10 hours of driving all the way to Cradock, and really, it's too much for me in one day, so we always stop overnight. Often it's been with friends Ann and Retief Kotze in Sedgefield, reminiscing about past family times together, or with Des Lindberg in Plettenberg Bay, where conversation is full of old stories of music, theatre and life, and most recently at The Plettenberg in that resort town. If heading to Cradock via PE/Gqeberha from Cape Town, another possibility presents itself. Just 11km after Swellendam, turn left onto the R324 towards the Langeberg range to drive — via the long and narrow Suurbraak village — through the magnificent Tradouw Pass, a scenic wonder often overlooked. Only 46km from Swellendam you reach Barrydale, presenting an alternative if you want to leave Cape Town on the N2 instead of the N1 towards Worcester, Ashton and Montagu. We once drove from Arniston, our favourite coastal village, via Swellendam and then hopped over the mountain to Barrydale to make our way to Cradock on the R62. It's amazing how you can mix up your routes when, one day, you turn off the main drag and see what lies ahead. Locals love to stop at Nanaga But let's turn back to the N2. Let's say we have reached PE whichever route we've taken, and we depart the city and pull onto the 'Grahamstown road' as I tend to think of it (from my old days of attending festivals there), but instead of veering left onto the road to that cathedral city we stay on the N10 towards Cradock. I soon learnt that locals love to stop at Nanaga, the huge farmstall complex on an island between these intersectional routes. Then, it's dreary Paterson (no reason to stop that I know of), and even drearier Cookhouse. There's pretty scenery along this route but not much to pull over for. Unless. Once, on the road from Cradock and Cookhouse via Olifantskop Pass and Paterson beyond, I spied a motorbike far in front of me. As I got closer, it cloned itself. There were two, three, then five, seven, 10… a herd of 12 motorbikes, and not going very fast either. I needed to overtake. But they'd left hardly any gaps between them. Collectively, they equalled three long trucks. I had scant option but to remain stuck behind them and get to my destination late. Maybe they'd all pull over. But there was no Ronnie's Sex Shop or Diesel & Crème on this route to beckon them in and fatten them up. Then I spotted a line of white cars with blue lights just off the road ahead, and we were all flagged down. Lots of cops, many cars, and 12 bikes. When a traffic officer reached us, I answered his questions, showed him my driver's licence, and said, 'Officer, please help me out. You see those 12 bikes? I've been stuck behind them for 20km. Any chance I could go ahead of them?' Leave it with me, he said, walking into the middle of the road, holding his hands up to the bikes that were now revving mightily, and waving me to sail ahead, leaving them trembling in my wake. Hah!
