When the wind is still, a strange and pungent odor rises over the pleasant resort city of Durban on the Indian Ocean. It comes usually from the tin-shanty slum of Cato Manor to the west, where, ever since the Union government forbade blacks to drink anything alcoholic other than the watery government beer served in municipal bars, Zulu women have been brewing a crude moonshine of their own. A high-power popskull made of methylated spirits, carbide, potato peels or just about anything else that will ferment, this local version of skokiaan (called gavine) is often the only source of...
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