I just published a blog post and I don’t normally do multiple posts in a day. But I just heard the news about Swazi Werner, owner of the Zebra Inn, who died last night.
There are a few short articles floating around about the murders, but the ones I’ve seen so far have only made a fleeting mention of “the owner” of the bar without identifying Swazi.
Perhaps this is because Swazi wasn’t his real name. Swazi once explained to me that his first name is Werner (he was originally from Austria), but he used to live in Swaziland and eventually took on the name “Swazi Werner” to differentiate himself from all the other Werners around. He never mentioned what his last name was.
Inside the Zebra Inn. That’s Swazi sitting at the table on the right.
The Zebra Inn, to me, is the epitome of Johannesburg: a seedy bar, opened in a run-down section of Johannesburg, which was eventually engulfed by the trendy Maboneng Precinct and adapted to its new surroundings. The Zebra Inn maintained its original shebeen-like character and cheap beer, while also becoming a tourist destination where hipsters hang out and have ironic dance parties. I’ve attended a few of those parties myself and they were all great.
The Zebra Inn at night.
The Zebra Inn is not for everyone. Some might find it distasteful. There have been persistent rumors over the years that the Zebra Inn is a brothel, although I’ve never seen any proof. And then there’s the taxidermy – hundreds of stuffed wild animals covering the walls, which Swazi, a renowned big game hunter, reportedly shot all himself. I’m not a fan of prostitution or big game hunting but I still love the Zebra Inn. Because…Joburg.
I’ve always preferred going to the Zebra Inn during the day. It’s usually pretty empty, and it was the best time to play the juke box and chat with Swazi and his partner Lucille.
Instax photos of Ray and me at the Zebra Inn in 2014, shot by our friend Tim Van Rooyen.
It was during one of those mid-day visits that Swazi took me downstairs to see his book and record collection. Swazi had thousands of books and records, gathered over decades of travel around Africa, as well as an impressive collection of traditional art and other memorabilia. I was blown away by this secret little museum.
Swazi shows me his art collection.
I didn’t know Swazi well, but I’m glad I knew him. I’m devastated he’s gone. I can’t imagine the Zebra Inn without him but I’m hoping it continues somehow.
My heart goes out to Lucille and the rest of Swazi’s friends and family, as well as to the friends and family of Johann Botha.
I guess it’s wrong to say I’ve never blogged about 44 Stanley; I’ve mentioned it countless times over the years (see here and here) when writing about specific restaurants or shops that are there. But I’ve never written a dedicated post about 44 Stanley as a destination and it’s about time I did – especially now, with the holidays upon us.
In 2020, I published a blog post with tips for Americans living in South Africa who wanted to vote in the U.S. presidential election. I thought about simply resharing that post this year. But then I realized: 1) I want to write a U.S. election post that will be fun and informative for everyone, not just other Americans; and 2) Believe it or not, the U.S. presidential election stakes are even higher in 2024 than they were in 2020. So I’m introducing you to some really cool Americans in Joburg – one who I’ve known forever and two who I just met – and tell you a bit about who they are, why they live here, and why they vote.
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It makes me smile, when I see it.