The Banana Bandits of Durban

IN CERTAIN parts of Chatsworth and Durban, you don’t need a morning radio news bulletin to know what’s going on, you just look out your window.

There, on the roof, is a troop of grey-furred hooligans with long tails, staring down like they own the joint. And truth be told, they probably do.

The vervet monkeys have taken over. They run across walls like schoolboys cutting through backyards, raid fruit trees like they’ve got a grocery list, and make off with bananas, bread, and, if you’re foolish enough to leave your window open, maybe even your breakfast.

They don’t ask permission. They don’t pay rent. They don’t care about your Wi-Fi connection or your alarm system.

They’re the street-smart survivors of Durban’s greenbelt, moving in troops, working the suburbs the way old-time hustlers worked Grey Street.

Once, they were called pests. Farmers used to shoot them.

Now they’re “protected species,”which makes them sound like retired high powered people with diplomatic immunity.

You can’t touch them, even when they’re sitting on your kitchen counter peeling your bananas like it’s high tea.

But here’s the thing, they’re not the villains of the story.

They’re just doing what they’ve always done: living off the land.

It’s just that the land got paved, walled, and turned into suburbia.

The mango trees stayed, so they stayed too. Every now and then, the monkeys remind us what humanity is supposed to look like.

Like the Naidoo family over in one part of Chatsworth who found a baby monkey trapped on their wall and called Monkey-line.

Or that security guard who found another one chained in a shack and freed it, a small act of mercy in a world too used to cruelty.

People like that remind you that Durban still has a heart under all the concrete.

Monkey Helpline comes to the rescue, patching up the broken, giving second chances to creatures that most of us only curse when the fruit disappears.

So the next time you see one of these grey-faced bandits sitting on your wall, give him a nod.

He’s been here longer than your house, your car, or your neighbourhood WhatsApp group.

He’s a living reminder that not all the wild has been tamed.And if he happens to snatch your sandwich, well, consider it rent for living in his backyard.

In Durban, the jungle never really left, it just got better at opening windows!

Vedan is an attorney, community leader, and social commentator based in KwaZulu-Natal.

POSTPLUS