Ekasi, behind every beautiful big house there is a story.

First brick, double storey with a double garage. Pavement circles the entire yard, leaving no space for sand or mud.

The once beautiful house, owned by Principal Theko and his social worker wife, Mrs Theko, has now gone to the rags. All because of their two sons.

The garage that was once filled with three cars, is now filled with torn couches and recyclable bottles.

“What went wrong?” Everybody who passes the house asks.

Let me tell you.

When you have a child, you build a home for them. A legacy. Something you leave them with, before you kick the bucket. The house is supposed to provide your child security and stability.

I’m pretty sure that’s what the Theko’s had in mind when they built that house, brick by brick. If only they knew…

Principal Theko was a strict man, who ruled the school with a firm hand, likewise in his household. His sons went to a multi racial school, and were always seen on TV accepting awards for this and that, academically.

Mrs Theko was a humble woman, who had a gentleness about her, and she always showed up for the disadvantaged kids. She had an after-school program, where all the kids in the township would recieve extra lessons, then at the end of the lessons, the kids would get pies, pizzas, you name it. I especially, went there for the food.

So what happened to them, you may ask?

Well, Mrs Theko died in a car accident. Her car skidded off the road, after being hit by a drunk truck driver. Her family was never the same after that. Principal Theko, took the death pretty hard. He started drinking heavily, then day by day, he lost more of himself and his dignity. Finally, he had a stroke and died at his home.

After their parents died in the same year, the sons, Tebogo and Tshepo, who were 19 and 16 at the time, turned for the worst. Tebogo, the first born, dropped out of Rosebank college, where he was studying accounting. Tshepo, dropped out of school in grade 11. The house started being a hang out spot for amajita. There were parties being hosted every day. Girls, in and out. They were blowing their parents money.

After two years, the money ran out and it started to show. Less and less parties. No more showing off new cars. No more giving us R200s just for greeting them. Nothing.

Tshepo’s baby mama, dumped him for what we call amaBlesser. She left him with his 1 year old son. They had to do something. They had to hustle.

It started off with Tebogo selling vegetables and chips. Tshepo started recycling tins. It went on like that for a good six months. They were trying to earn an honest living.

Something must’ve happened. Right? After they sold their parents cars, they hosted a few parties, their friends came around again and they were happy. The money ran out, again.

This time, depression hit them hard. They turned to the deadliest friend of them all: nyaope.

They took it to get high and forget their troubles at first, then, they started taking it everyday. They started getting frustrated and nauseas whenever they didn’t get it. Tshepo neglected his son, it must be one of the neighbors that reported the issue because soon, social services came and took the baby boy away.

It hit him hard. He moved onto other drugs, like meth, dragging his brother along with him.

They pawned the furniture. Inviting more of their crackhead friends to stay with them. Day in and out, we’d see drug addicts in that house coming in and out. That area, started being a no-go. They were known to rob people.

They pawned even the windows, doors and burglar gates! Everything they could carry and take out, they did. I bet you, if they could pick up the house and go sell it, they’d have done exactly that!

After some time, word got out that one of the male drug addicts, had raped a young 12 year old girl, when she was on her way back from school. The community had never been so angry. They united, came together and burnt that house down at night.

The firefighters salvaged what they could. The house was still standing, but now burnt black.

Most drug addicts died that night, but, Tebogo came out alive. Tshepo? He was burnt beyond recognition.

So now, Tebogo is at rehab. Before he left, he vowed to go back to school, using NSFAS. Then when he got a job, he promised to fight for his brother’s son.

It’s been over 5 months since Tebogo went away to rehab. The house is still there, waiting for its owner. Some people say, they can hear the screams of the drug addicts who died there, when they pass by at night. I highly don’t believe that.

So, there. That’s how the Theko’s home got to be called the Crackhouse.