In his Chatsworth home office on December 11, 2025, when the writer last interviewed and photographed him.
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Everybody knows Uncle John. Tamil scholar, priest, astrologer and icon of the Magazine Barracks community, John Kisten commanded the deepest affection and greatest respect. His colonial-born father, Moonsamy, was a foreman in the Works Department of the Durban Corporation which allowed them a home in his 1934 birthplace, G-block in the barracks. His mother, Naguramah managed the home and the children.
Both sets of Kisten's grandparents were indentured workers born in India. Strolling a short distance with him in Chatsworth can take forever. Everyone stops to greet him. Variously revered as Appa (father) or Guru (teacher), he was acknowledged as the walking encyclopedia of the community in which he has lived since 1964.
It was in that painful year that his family fell victim to the apartheid Group Areas Act. Along with several thousand others they were forcibly removed from the barracks. The municipal workers' compound on Somsteu Road was declared a white group area. Not only was Kisten's family forced to pack and go but they had to witness the painful destruction of their treasured place of worship, the Magazine Barracks Shree Vishnu Temple.
With Pastor John F Rowlands at the Fosa settlement.
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Kisten was a gentle man of slight build and a quiet manner. That demeanour concealed a formidable fighting spirit. Along with members of the community, the temple was rebuilt in Unit 3 in Chatsworth. Since the early seventies the modest yet iconic structure has served as a hub of religious worship. Triumph over adversity was not new to Kisten. As a young man he was struck down by tuberculosis. Disease and death, especially an unusually high infant mortality were not uncommon in the cramped quarters Durban Corporation workers occupied.
He spent 15 months recuperating in the Friends of the Sick Association (Fosa) settlement in Newlands. Among his frequent visitors there was Pastor John F Rowlands who founded the Bethesda Church. They spoke to each other in Tamil. Kisten survived TB and became a volunteer for the association raising funds from within his community to erect a cottage there to serve future patients. He busied himself with social welfare, cultural and sporting activities.
Together with his older brother they also set up as Jack and John Photographers. Iconic images of the barracks community in delicate black and white were captured by the pair. Kisten's nostalgia for the barracks translated into most of his daily activities. He was a founder and active member of the Magazine Barracks Remembrance Association and a host of other organisations. He also ministered to descendants of his old community, mine included.
Kisten's treasured map of the layout of the Magazine Barracks community.
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He and my father Chungelrion Swaminathan Govindarajulu had been friends since their childhood. When they set up home in Chatsworth, they would catch the train together from the Westcliff railway station to their workplaces in the city. Kisten was the preferred choice of priest when significant prayers or memorials are performed in our homes. He was exceptionally well schooled in the ancient Tamil language and performed prayers with the greatest simplicity. His signature approach was taking the time to explain the mantras and the purpose of the observances.
His intimate knowledge of thousands of Magazine Barracks families connected the younger generation to those long since deceased. Those attributes made him a living treasure. The reverence in which the present generation held him, especially his daughters, one of whom was his permanent caregiver, is matched by his own reverence for his forebears.
His modest home in Road 307 is adorned with portraits of his parents and loved ones as well as certificates recognising different milestones in their lives. The hand tinted picture of his father standing aristocratic in his Sunday best with handlebar moustache dominates the tiny stairwell that leads to the upstairs two bedrooms of his semi-detached cottage. He held court in the downstairs sitting room where visitors constantly called on him usually to study the almanac that regulates observances of births, deaths and naming of newborns.
With other community activists in the Magazine Barracks. Kisten is third from right in the middle row.
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He would pore through the ancient texts for explanations, readings and lyrics. A constant companion was the radio with his favourite DJ being another departed Tamil scholar, Tamilselvi Mala Lutchmanan of Lotus FM who also had her origins in the barracks community. No time with Kisten was uninterrupted. If it wasn't his Telkom landline ringing then it was the little cellphone that he slips into the side pocket of his traditional white kurta.
He deserved a secretary to keep track of his appointments but he managed them in his head and his careful handwritten pocketbook. Those needing him to perform prayers or readings sent a car to fetch him and he was meticulous about keeping those appointments. He juggled those with unscheduled visits to homes where there were bereavements or other calamities. He was a counsellor in times of grief always with a willing ear and gentle word.
The Chatsworth community and those well beyond were enriched by one of such greatness that we can scarcely believe he walked among us.