Tana Malinga
The cracked walls still stand. Roofs remain exposed to the weather. Windows have disappeared, stripped away by vandals, while weeds have swallowed what was once meant to become a thriving community.
Beside Tembisa Hospital lies not just an unfinished housing project, but a painful reminder of broken promises and the growing desperation of hundreds of families still waiting for a place to call home.
For many residents, these are not merely abandoned buildings. They are homes that were promised, lives that were planned, and futures that never arrived. Every passing year deepens the disappointment as children continue to grow up in overcrowded households while completed dreams remain locked behind unfinished bricks.
During an oversight visit on Monday, Gauteng MEC for Finance Nkululeko Dunga walked through the Tembisa Extension 25 (Hospital View) housing development, where nearly completed houses now bear the scars of neglect and vandalism. Instead of welcoming new homeowners, the site has become a haunting picture of public resources lost and opportunities wasted.
The project, launched during the 2018/19 financial year, was designed to deliver 500 homes to deserving beneficiaries.
Construction reportedly reached around 85 percent before work came to a halt in June 2022. Approximately R87 million of the R97 million allocated budget had already been spent, yet no family has received the keys to a home. Since then, criminal elements have stripped electrical infrastructure, plumbing and building materials, leaving behind shells of what should have been vibrant neighbourhoods.
The visit exposed more than damaged infrastructure. It highlighted the emotional burden carried daily by residents who continue to wait, hoping their names will finally be called. Families who once celebrated the announcement of the project now speak of frustration, uncertainty and fading confidence. Their greatest fear is that another generation could inherit promises instead of homes.
MEC Dunga acknowledged the seriousness of the situation, noting the extensive vandalism and indicating that technical assessments will determine whether some structures can still be salvaged or may need to be rebuilt. The provincial government says the inspection forms part of broader efforts to understand what went wrong, strengthen accountability and determine practical solutions to revive stalled infrastructure projects.
Yet beyond the figures, reports and inspections lies a simple human truth. Every unfinished house represents a family still trapped in difficult living conditions. Every broken window reflects hope delayed. Every stolen brick reminds communities that development loses its value when projects are left unattended.
Tembisa is not asking for miracles. Its residents are asking for dignity, accountability and the fulfilment of commitments already made. They want action that restores confidence in public service and gives families the opportunity to build stable futures.
There is still hope.
If government departments, municipalities, contractors and communities unite behind one clear purpose, this abandoned development can still become the neighbourhood it was always meant to be. The road ahead may require renewed investment, stronger oversight and difficult decisions, but the reward will be measured not only in completed houses, but in restored trust.
For the families of Tembisa, the greatest foundation is no longer concrete. It is the hope that one day, sooner rather than later, these silent buildings will echo with children’s laughter, neighbours’ greetings and the joy of finally coming home.
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