In the Shadow of eBhongweni

By CHRIS MAKHAYE

Two of the most (in)famous recent residents of eBhongweni Correctional facility that Kokstad locals often chat about.

Kokstad was once known for its sprawling cattle ranches and its role as a gateway between KwaZulu-Natal and the Eastern Cape.

Today, that identity is fading.

Street-corner conversations now turn to water shortages—and to the imposing fortress on the town’s edge: eBhongweni Correctional Centre.

Built in 2002 as South Africa’s first standalone supermax prison, it has come to define the town, housing some of the country’s most feared and high-profile criminals.

Conceived in the late 1990s after a string of humiliating prison escapes, eBhongweni was designed along American “supermax” lines to isolate the most dangerous and escape-prone inmates.

With 1,440 single cells, electronic doors, surveillance-lined corridors, and towering walls, its philosophy is stark: isolation, routine, and control.

Prisoners spend 23 hours a day in their cells, with just one hour of tightly monitored exercise.

Even the notorious Mozambican escape artist Ananias Mathe—once a symbol of the state’s failure to contain hardened criminals—met his match here. His inability to breach eBhongweni cemented its reputation as an escape-proof fortress.

Among warders, the consensus is blunt. “Even the toughest men are softened here,” one said.

Former inmates echo the sentiment, describing a system that strips away bravado and identity. Inside, monotony reigns—and even language shifts, with isiXhosa becoming dominant among prisoners due to its use by staff.

Security has tightened further in recent years. Warders living on-site say even their own visitors are subject to rigorous screening. The message is clear: nothing moves without scrutiny.

Often dubbed South Africa’s Alcatraz, eBhongweni holds a roll call of the infamous: Thabo Bester, Radovan Krejcir, Vusimuzi “Cat” Matlala, the Ndimande brothers accused in rapper AKA’s murder, and Thozamile Taki, the “Sugarcane Killer.”

They are joined by the Pongola 26 cash heist gang, murder-accused former eThekwini councillor Mzi Ngoba and his two co-accused, notorious 28s gang leader Geweld, and convicted Nigerian drug trafficker Okon.

Their names dominate headlines, but inside they are reduced to numbers in a system that offers no indulgence. Taki, once able to escape from Westville Prison, has found no such opportunity here.

For Kokstad residents, the presence of these men inspires a mix of unease and fascination. Thozamile Ngqula, 25, said she was shocked to learn Matlala was held there.

“I only knew his name from the news—I didn’t expect him to be right here.”

Sandile Gwabeni, 32, unemployed, struck a more ironic tone: “I saw Matlala going to court wearing about R150,000 worth of luxury clothing. If only they could share some of that money with us.”

Others echo the sentiment—a mix of envy and disbelief at the fall from flamboyance to confinement. The same figures who once flaunted wealth now live in stark, silent cells.

Globally, eBhongweni draws comparisons to the United States’ ADX Florence and Britain’s Belmarsh. But unlike overcrowded facilities such as Pollsmoor or Kgosi Mampuru, it is deliberately kept below capacity to maintain strict control. Its reputation rests not on violence, but on certainty: no one escapes.

During our recent visit, even discussions about local water upgrades quickly circled back to the prison and its inmates. Names like Bester and Krejcir surfaced repeatedly, spoken with a mix of awe and apprehension.

For Kokstad, eBhongweni is no longer just a correctional centre. It is the town’s defining landmark—a stark reminder that the road from notoriety ends not in glamour, but in silence, isolation, and the unyielding walls of South Africa’s most secure prison.

ENDS