Families Reclaim Beloved Gqeberha Park One Cleanup at a Time

When Tammy Southby returned to Happy Valley this weekend, she wasn't just picking up trash. She was reclaiming memories of visiting the beachfront park with her late grandmother, posing for photos by the penguin displays when the fairytale installations still sparkled.

She wasn't alone. Families across Gqeberha showed up Saturday for the second community cleanup of Happy Valley, a once-magical park that has fallen into disrepair.

The Port Elizabeth Hotel Group organized the event as part of Tourism Month and World Coastal Cleanup Day. Volunteers pushed beyond the green gates, clearing the old chessboard area and filling countless bags with rubbish.

"It was so heartening to see families out in full force, especially the kids running around, playing, and actively helping," said Tiffany Naidoo of the Port Elizabeth Hotel Group. The turnout showed what's possible when a community rallies together.

Happy Valley stretches from Humewood Beach toward the former Telkom Park. For decades, it drew families with its nursery rhyme installations, illuminated walkways, and wishing well where children tossed coins to make wishes.

Now the water in that well runs dark and muddy. The fairytale characters like Mowgli and Baloo stand forlorn among overgrown foliage.

But residents refuse to let the magic die completely. Chanté Botha spent hours here as a child and joined the cleanup so her own child could enjoy the same experience. Marcell Jacobs even mixed asphalt to repair damaged walkways.

Vanessa Marx, visiting from KuGompo City, remembered how beautiful the park looked when her parents brought her as a child. "Back then it used to be so beautiful," she said. "The kids are really missing out on what we used to enjoy."

The Ripple Effect

The cleanup represents more than just removing trash. It's creating a safe space where families can gather again and building momentum for lasting change.

Alex Govender praised the hotel group for rallying residents, though he questioned why volunteers had to do work that should fall to the municipality. Still, he showed up because he believes in the city's potential.

For many volunteers, Happy Valley represents something deeper than a neglected park. It holds generations of childhood fantasies, family photographs, and wishes tossed into a well.

The work isn't finished, and plenty of heavy lifting remains. But Saturday proved that when a community decides a place is worth saving, they'll grab their gloves and get to work.