Town Centre Library: A beacon in the heart of the community

For nearly three decades, Mitchell’s Plain Library has provided the community with more than lending books — it has served as a haven, a hub of learning, and a space where people feel supported. 

When it opened in February 1997 under the late Theresa Solomon, then mayor of Cape Town, its foundation carried both hope and remembrance. The building was dedicated to the memory of children who died at the hands of the “station strangler". The station strangler became a household name after the bodies of 22 young boys were found across the Cape Flats from 1986 to 1994.  

In January 1994, Cape Town was rocked by the discovery of 11 bodies in the strangler’s so-called killing fields in Mitchell’s Plain.

Granville Daniels, who has served as an assistant librarian for 29 years at Mitchell’s Plain Library, recalled the crowds, the anticipation, and the sense that something special was being born.

Rachel Kepkey, who has been a librarian at Mitchell’s Plain Library for 29 years, said she had watched the library grow alongside the community. 

Ms Kepkey recalls the early era with both fondness and grit. “We started with a different system; we didn’t have computers yet — children copied books by hand,” she said. 

“Over time, we transformed. We have kids who grew up in this library, including those who were once troubled. Years later, they come back, and they’re okay. This place was always meant to be a haven, welcoming to all.”

Under the mentorship of the first principal librarian, Faried Davids (who died during Covid‑20), both Ms Kepkey and Mr Daniels say they were nurtured and given space to grow. 

“He saw when people did good and acknowledged that,” Ms Kepkey said. “He allowed you to expand here, very softly and kindly,” Mr Daniels said. “We came from Rocklands Library together. This library became an opportunity.”

Community voices affirm the library’s importance. “We have access to various programmes: such as information on wills, social workers interact with us, and there are mental health programmes,” said regular patron Cecil Muller, 72, from Tafelsig.

“The one thing that concerns me is the library opening too late in the morning. Getting access to iPads would be good too,” he said.

Trevor Coetzee, 60, also from Tafelsig, said he sees the library as an extension of himself. “It’s safe, a place where you’re known by name and feel welcome. The resources you can access here are yours."

"I love reading — free e‑books are a huge draw. As a maths tutor, all the study guides are here. Staff are outstanding and welcoming. May the library continue to help all. It’s indispensable for community building. We share what we go through with librarians — our problems, our small victories,” he said.

Mr Daniels recalls a woman from Manenberg who came in with an arm in a sling, needing to fill out an affidavit for her children’s overseas application. She couldn’t fill it herself; he wrote it down for her. “She couldn’t stop thanking me. These are the moments that matter,” he said, adding that the librarians and staff go beyond the expected.

One story stands out among many: “Around 2015, a baby was born inside the library,” Ms Kepkey recounts.

She said the mother arrived in full dilation. They converted the kitchen into a makeshift delivery space, called an ambulance, and with nurses from Mitchell’s Plain Melomed Hospital assisting, the baby was born safely despite the trauma. 

Ms Kepkey said her own clothes were soaked, but all that mattered was the new life.

Chess clubs, teen zones, storytime for educators, and career guidance fill the library's schedule; the WISE (Women’s Information Skills Empowerment) programme helps women hone job skills, interview techniques, and confidence. 

“Some people prefer physical books. You won’t find fake news here,” Ms Kepkey said. She recalls helping someone with police clearances and verifying job references — small acts with big outcomes.

Safety, especially for girls, is a concern. “This library is safe,” Mr Daniels said. “Anyone is safe to visit the library; we intervene immediately if there is any trouble. We want them to bring their friends. Sometimes we wait for parents before sending pupils home.” 

He even fashioned a drop‑off bin so people could leave materials safely if they had.

Hadjira Sydow, assistant librarian for ten years, describes her role as a vocation. Transferred from Central Library in the city centre in 2015, she said, “I love what I do. Walking in, being greeted by aunties and uncles — it’s more than giving someone a book or helping with a CV. It's a community.”

Despite the successes, challenges persist. Overdue books remain an issue. Many still clamour for better resources, like iPads and earlier morning opening times.

But Mitchell’s Plain Library carries on with hope, rooted in the knowledge that the library’s greatest strength is its people.

Mitchell’s Plain Library is not just a repository of books. It is a space of memory, safety, and growth.