Running the 2025 Slave Route Challenge: Why South Africans Must Stand with Palestine

The Slave Route Challenge and the Unbreakable Bond with Palestine

South Africa stands with Palestine as can be seen on The Slave Route Challenge Race in Cape Town on 1 June 2025

Footsteps Through Memory

Every year, on the streets of Cape Town, thousands lace up to run the Slave Route Challenge.

It’s more than just a race—it’s a living memorial. A collective act of remembrance that winds past colonial buildings, Masjids built by freed slaves, and the old Slave Lodge itself. This year, on Sunday 1 June 2025, as I ran its 21.1 kilometres, each step felt heavier, more urgent.

Because while we run to remember the past, we cannot ignore the present.

Bo-Kaap, one of the most memorable (can you say ‘Koesister Hill’?) stretches of the race, is draped in Palestinian flags, murals, and messages of solidarity. It’s a cry that echoes from District Six to Deir al-Balah: freedom is non-negotiable.

This is a story about running—and remembering. About solidarity and struggle. About why we, as descendants of the enslaved, will never be silent while Gaza burns.

The Slave Route Challenge: More Than a Race

Organised by the iconic Itheko Running Club, the Slave Route Challenge honours the lives, labour, and legacy of Cape Town’s enslaved people. The half-marathon route is carefully chosen:

Past the Old Slave Lodge, where thousands lived and died in chains.
Over Adderley Street, once the site of a slave market.
Through the Company’s Garden, where slaves toiled and colonisers flourished.
And into Bo-Kaap, home to many of their descendants.

There’s power in this race. It invites us to inhabit the history beneath our feet—and to reflect on what freedom really means.

Click on this link for my 2023 blog on this iconic race and its history.

Slavery in the Cape: A Painful Heritage

Before apartheid, before British colonialism, there was slavery.

From 1658 to 1834, the Dutch and British trafficked enslaved people from East Africa, Madagascar, India, and Southeast Asia to the Cape. They were denied language, religion, family, identity.

And yet—they resisted. Through secret prayers. Through memory. Through culture. The Islam practiced by many in Cape Town today was preserved at great personal cost by enslaved imams. The Bo-Kaap stands as a cultural stronghold, a refusal to forget.

This is not just a South African story. It is part of a global story of people fighting against empire, colonisation, and White Supremacism.

That fight continues today—in Gaza.

From the Cape to Gaza: Shared Struggles, Shared Spirit

What does the fight for Palestinian freedom have to do with a race in Cape Town?

Everything.

Both our histories are marked by the brutality of displacement. Our ancestors were uprooted, sold, and oppressed by systems that saw them as less than human. So too are the people of Palestine—forced from their homes, walled in, bombed, starved, and silenced.

Where the enslaved were beaten for daring to speak their language or practice their religion, Palestinians are killed for waving their flag.

Where our ancestors were stripped of agency, Palestinians face collective punishment for resisting.

And just as South Africa’s liberation movement was called “terrorist,” so too are Palestinian resisters vilified today.

We recognise this pattern. We survived it. We broke it.

And we cannot be silent while others are still fighting to do the same.

Zionism and White Supremacy: Two Faces of the Same Coin

To understand why Palestinian liberation matters to us, we must name the system they are fighting: Zionist White Supremacism.

Zionism, in its political and military form, is not a Jewish identity—it is a settler colonial ideology that justifies land theft, apartheid, and ethnic cleansing in the name of supremacy. Just as apartheid South Africa weaponised Christianity to justify racism, Zionist ideology uses religion as cover for systemic violence.

This is not a conflict. It is colonisation.

And the same Western powers that enslaved our ancestors now fund the destruction of Gaza. The same silence that once protected apartheid now shields Israeli war crimes.

But. We. Will. Not. Be. Silent.

Bo-Kaap Murals: Art as Resistance

As I ran through Bo-Kaap, my legs aching and heart full, I passed mural after mural:

“Free Palestine” scrawled in bold red.
A keffiyeh-wrapped woman in tears and defiance.
The faces of Gazan children, too young to know war, but old enough to be its victims.

These artworks are not decoration—they are declarations. Bo-Kaap’s murals are a living archive of solidarity, painted by those who know what it is to be oppressed, erased, and displaced.

And it’s not a coincidence. The people of Bo-Kaap are descendants of slaves, exiles, and freedom fighters. Of course they stand with Palestine. Of course they recognise apartheid when they see it.

The Morality of the Palestinian Struggle

Let us be clear: Palestinian resistance is not only justified, it is moral.

International law supports their right to resist occupation. Their fight is not antisemitic—it is anti-colonial.

To support Palestine is not to hate—it is to demand justice.

If you supported the end of apartheid in South Africa, you must support the end of apartheid in Israel.

If you believe all people have the right to life, land, and dignity, you must stand with Palestine.

If you run the Slave Route to honour freedom, you cannot ignore those still in chains.

Why South Africans Must Never Be Neutral

Nelson Mandela said: “We know too well that our freedom is incomplete without the freedom of the Palestinians.” That was not a soundbite—it was a call to action.

We, the descendants of the enslaved, have a moral obligation to speak.

Our silence would be betrayal. Our solidarity is not performative—it is ancestral. It is embodied. It is lived.

We see Palestine not as “over there,” but as right here—in every checkpoint that reminds us of passbooks, in every demolished home that reminds us of District Six, in every keffiyeh that mirrors our own doek of dignity.

This Race Is Personal

Running the Slave Route is a way of honouring my ancestors. It’s also a way of recommitting to the principles they lived and died for: freedom, justice, and dignity.

This year, as I crossed the finish line, I thought of Gaza.

I thought of the runners who never got to run again. Of the children whose dreams were buried beneath rubble. Of the survivors who still stand tall.

We run because we are free. And because we are free, we must fight for those who are not.

What You Can Do

Educate Yourself: Learn about the history of Palestine, Israeli apartheid, and the global movement for justice.
Speak Up: Don’t let fear silence you. Use your voice.
Support BDS: Boycott, Divest, and Sanction until apartheid ends.
Donate Wisely: Support organisations providing direct aid to Palestinians, like Gift Of The Givers.
Run with Purpose: Whether you’re racing or walking, do it with solidarity in your heart.

Conclusion: One Struggle, One Spirit

The Slave Route Challenge is not just a run—it’s a reminder. A reminder that freedom is hard-won, that history is not past, and that justice must be fought for in every generation.

From Cape Town to Gaza, the struggle continues. And we will never stop running, never stop speaking, never stop standing—with Palestine.

Aluta Continua

Thanks

Photo Credits:

Anni

Ellen

Mac

Pippa

Sharifa

Soraya

Wasielah

In Memorium

Today, during the race we lost one of our own. Tragically, a runner passed away after a tree fell over in The Company’s Gardens.

My sincere condolences to the friends and family of the deceased. This is a reminder that we are not guaranteed another day, another hour, another breath.

Carpe Diem