18/09/2026
Opinion piece: Our ancestors deserve dignity: Who will protect the graveyards of the Free State?
By Twin Mosia
When I was growing up, I was taught never to point at a grave, let alone cross or walk over it. A grave was a place of respect, a sacred resting place for the dead. We were taught that those who had passed on deserved dignity, and that their final resting places were not to be treated carelessly.
Those lessons stayed with me. Today, however, I find myself asking a painful question: What has happened to the respect we once had for our ancestors?
Across the Free State, many graveyards have become shortcuts for people trying to get to the other side of the town or township. Others have become dumping sites, hiding places for criminals and spaces where people engage in activities that have no place in a burial ground. The presence of discarded condoms in some of these spaces raises disturbing questions about the activities taking place there.
I find this deeply troubling. A graveyard is not an empty piece of land. It is not a public thoroughfare, a dumping ground, or a convenient place to hide. It is the final resting place of someone's mother, father, child, grandparent or a loved one.
Every grave represents a human life. Behind every headstone is a story, a family and a history that deserves to be remembered.
Our relationship with graveyards says something about our relationship with history, culture and one another.
For many African communities, the relationship between the living and the dead is deeply rooted in cultural traditions and ancestral memory. Burial grounds connect generations. They remind us of where we come from and of the people whose sacrifices, struggles and experiences helped shape our communities.
Even beyond cultural and spiritual beliefs, graveyards are important historical spaces. They can provide evidence of family lineages, migration, local conflicts, epidemics and the lives of people whose stories may never have been recorded in books.
Once a grave is destroyed or a headstone disappears, the loss may be permanent. A name can be forgotten. A family connection can be lost. A piece of our collective history can disappear forever.
That is why the neglect of graveyards should concern every one of us.
South Africa has laws intended to protect burial grounds and heritage resources. The National Heritage Resources Act 25 of 1999 provides for the protection of graves and burial grounds, particularly those that have historical or cultural significance.
Section 36 of the Act deals specifically with the protection of graves and burial grounds, including the graves of victims of conflict and graves of historical significance. It also regulates the disturbance, relocation and exhumation of protected graves.
The law makes it clear that certain graves cannot simply be disturbed or relocated at someone's convenience. The appropriate permits and legal procedures must be followed.
The National Environmental Management: Waste Act 59 of 2008 also provides a framework for preventing and managing waste, while municipal by-laws may regulate illegal dumping and the misuse of public spaces.
These laws and regulations exist for a reason. They recognize that burial grounds are not ordinary pieces of land that can be treated without consideration for the dead, their families and their heritage.
But legislation alone is not enough. Laws must be enforced, and communities must understand that graveyards are places of dignity and respect.
My concerns about the condition of our burial grounds are what led me to take action. Through Elandskop Museum which I curate in Mamafubedu, in collaboration with Kwena Feed Soul, we recently undertook the first leg of a grave-cleaning campaign at one of the Oldest gravweyards in Mamafubedu, Petrus Steyn,dating back to the 1940. I could no longer sit back and watch these important spaces deteriorate while waiting for someone else to act.
What we encountered was heartbreaking, as many graves were no longer visible, while others were difficult to identify. The team documented and listed the graves we could locate, knowing that every name and every surviving marker could be important to future generations.
One particularly significant grave was that of Ntate Ntsoso Jacob Motaung, born in 1864, who lived to the age of 91. His life connected us to a turbulent period of the land conquest and colonial expansion during the Basotho Wars of 1858–1868.
His father may have witnessed or participated in those conflicts, although further historical research is needed to establish that connection.
For me, this was a reminder of why graveyard preservation matters. We are not simply clearing grass and rubbish. We are protecting the physical traces of people whose lives can help us understand our past. Our team also planted aloe as part of the effort to restore and protect the site.
We are planning a second leg of the campaign, which will involve bringing stones to help protect the graveyard and establishing a living green fence using aloe and agave plants.
These are modest efforts, but they are a beginning. While I am proud of what we have achieved, I must be honest: I cannot do this work alone.
Cleaning and protecting a graveyard requires time, physical labor, tools, food, and drinking water for volunteers. It requires transport, planning, research and continued commitment. It is not a task that can be completed in a single day or heritage month and forgotten.
We are a community initiative, not a municipal department with an allocated cemetery maintenance budget.
And yet, while we are out there working to restore dignity to the dead, one cannot help but ask what the Parks and Cemeteries departments are doing.
These departments have staff and budgets, and their employees earn their hard-earned salaries. Why, then, are communities still expected to step in and do the work?
I do not envy municipal employees for positions and their salaries. They deserve to be paid for their work. But the public deserves to see that work being done. A salary comes with responsibilities, and a departmental budget must translate into services.
Municipalities must account for how cemetery maintenance funds are used, what work is being undertaken and why so many burial grounds remain neglected in the whole of Free State. We cannot continue to celebrate community volunteers while allowing the institutions responsible for public services to escape accountability. Community organizations should be partners in heritage preservation, not substitutes for government.
The protection of graveyards cannot rest with municipalities alone. Families must care for the graves of their loved ones, residents must stop dumping waste, and communities must report vandalism and the destruction of burial grounds. Schools, heritage organisations, traditional leaders and local businesses can also play a role in educating communities and supporting preservation efforts.
But the starting point must be a change in attitude. We must once again teach our children that a grave is not simply an obstacle on the way to somewhere else. It is a place where someone's life is remembered and where families deserve to mourn and reflect in peace.
The Mamafubedu graveyard and many othgers across the Free State should be a place of dignity, not a dumping site or raw sewerage pathways!. It should be a place where our history is preserved, not a space where it is slowly erased.
When I look at the graves we documented during our campaign, I see people who lived, struggled, loved and contributed to the communities we have inherited. Their names and stories deserve to survive.
I took action because I could not stand by and watch that history disappear. I will continue to do what I can, but I need others to join us, and I need our municipality as well as neighboring ones to fulfill their responsibilities. Our ancestors gave us a past. We owe them the dignity of protecting it.
The question is no longer whether graveyards deserve protection. The question is whether we, as a society, are prepared to act before it is too late.
And to those entrusted with maintaining our cemeteries, I ask: If communities must do your work, what exactly are we paying you for?
Twin Mosia is the founder and multi-award-winning curator of Elandskop Museum and Rhino Heritage Park in Mamafubedu, Petrus Steyn. He is also a museum educator at the War Museum in Bloemfontein, where he is also a council member for the Free State Provincial Heritage Resources Authority.
Disclaimer: The views expressed in this opinion piece are those of the author and not of Free State World.
