From Hanover Street: A heartfelt tribute to the legacy of District Six
The production was one for the books
Image: Tracy-Lynn Ruiters
There are theatre productions you attend, and then there are productions that attend to you. From Hanover Street, staged at the Artscape Theatre Centre from 10 to 15 February 2026, was the latter.
My mom and I were invited guests, thanks to the generosity of Dr Marlene Le Roux, who had thoughtfully kept tickets aside for us.
The production, a reminder concert commemorating 60 years since the forced removals of District Six residents reunited the original “Broetjie” performers from District Six: The Musical under the banner of the Broertjiesmybra Collective.
The collective features Jody Abrahams, Loukmaan Adams, Alistair Izobell and Emo Adams, alongside the visionary behind the original concept, David Kramer.
It marked a rare full-circle moment four decades later, the original cast members returned not only as performers, but as producers and custodians of a legacy that shaped South African theatre.
For me, the evening began with excitement. Growing up, District Six: The Musical was part of our home’s soundtrack. My parents played it on repeat. My mom owned the vinyl, a double LP filled with the iconic songs that told stories of laughter, love, loss and displacement. I was finally going to experience that world live. The music did not disappoint.
The ghoema beat pulsed through the theatre. The audience sang along. There was cheering, clapping, and a rhythm that felt less like performance and more like memory. The production was polished, powerful and emotionally charged.
Then I glanced at my mom. She wasn’t simply wiping away a tear. She was crying deeply, uncontrollably in a way I had never seen before.
I placed my hand gently on her back. “Are you okay?” I whispered.
“Yes, I will be,” she replied.
Two rows in front of us sat David Kramer himself. At one point, as archival visuals of the late Taliep Petersen filled the screen and Queen of Hearts echoed through the auditorium, I noticed he, too, was visibly emotional.
Watching the man who helped shape this musical legacy respond so deeply to his own history unfolding on screen made the moment feel even more intimate almost sacred. The tears in the theatre were not isolated; they were shared.
During interval, my mom opened up fully.
“I never knew I carried so much hurt from the days when we were forcibly removed,” she said, her voice trembling. “Just watching the white truck in that video…”
She spoke of Princess Road in Heathfield “Die Wit Blok”, of her mother’s Dover coal stove and cast iron pots mamma (my granny) loved so much, the ones she had to leave behind when forced to move.
“I still see her crying,” my mom said, “because she had to leave it all. And friends came over the day we left to say goodbye, not knowing where we would end up. Up until today, I wonder where they are, what they are doing.
"Unlike you guys, we didn’t have Facebook or social media to search for people. Even now, their surnames could have changed, or they might not be on any social media platform at all. We lost touch completely.”
Her voice broke as she recounted the everyday joys that had been taken from them: “Die Wit Blok only had two roads 'die sand pad en die teer pad'. We lived on the sand road. The first Miss Africa South came out of the teer pad, Evelyn Williams, we called her Peggy. We all knew each other. Everyone was like one big family. The Group Areas Act stole that.
"That’s why it’s so sad. You can’t find people you grew up with anymore. You can’t reconnect easily. You just carry it all inside.”
In that moment, I understood: this was not simply a concert. It was a reopening of memory, a collective reckoning with loss that decades of forced removal had embedded in every life affected.
Dr Marlene Le Roux, CEO of the Artscape Theatre Centre, described From Hanover Street as far more than a production.
Staged in association with Artscape and the Broertjiesmybra Collective, she said it served as a reminder of the brutality 60 years ago of the forcible removals of the District Six community evoking nostalgia, injustice, loss and anger, but also immense pride in local artistic excellence.
“What made the production more special is that it is the vision of the original Broertjies, Loukmaan Adams, Emo Adams, Jody Abrahams and Alistair Izobell. They are all acclaimed producers in their own right. They handpicked every performer.”
Le Roux attended every performance and said audiences were visibly moved. The final Sunday show, attended by elderly former District Six residents aged 80 and above, was particularly emotional.
“I cried with them,” she said. “Most said justice has not been given to them. We still need to do so much about restorative justice with action.”
For Alistair Izobell, the project felt almost destined.
“I keep using the word preordained,” he reflected. “I believe this project was written in the stars long ago for the four of us to reunite four decades later. This wasn’t just a show or a concert it was a gift of love. It was overwhelming.”
He described receiving heartfelt messages from younger generations who felt a deep emotional connection to District Six despite not having lived through it.
"We had umpteen messages from young people saying, ‘I have no physical connection to District Six, but my family does and I feel like I was evicted too.’ People didn’t just say, ‘Great show.’ They took time to reflect and really articulate what they felt.”
Izobell said that while many who witnessed the original musical in the 1980s are no longer alive, a new generation has now been introduced to the work of Kramer and Petersen and to the powerful story behind it.
“When I said on stage that this should never, ever happen again that’s important to validate. This was about memories. This was about reminding people that those kinds of atrocities should never be repeated.”
As musical arranger and senior musical director, Izobell said the four Broertjies worked in different creative silos but shared one goal: to honour the music and the story they have carried for four decades.
“We have been custodians of the work of Taliep and David for four decades. We know every beat. This music lives in every heartbeat of mine.”
As I left the theatre with my mom that night, I realised I had witnessed more than artistic excellence. I had witnessed generational healing, unfinished justice and the enduring power of storytelling.