Pharmacy in Early Johannesburg and a Prescription for the Inner-city

“Not a pleasing environment,” was how President Cyril Ramaphosa described the city of Johannesburg at a meeting between the National Executive and the City of Johannesburg Executive Council in Braamfontein on Thursday 6 March 2025. This meeting came two weeks after the G20 Foreign Ministers’ meeting at Nasrec Expo Centre, as the city prepares to host the G20 Summit in November. To address these concerns with the city, President Ramaphosa announced a Presidential Working Group focused on improving service delivery, managing the city’s finances and operations and facilitating economic growth. In particular, the Working Group has been tasked with rejuvenating the inner city, in an attempt to “take Johannesburg back to its glory days”. In order to positively transform Johannesburg, particularly its inner city, I believe it is necessary to understand the complex and unique history behind its formation and growth. My research aims to achieve this by using the history of pharmacy in the city as a lens through which to examine its development.

The history of pharmacy in South Africa may be likened to Johannesburg’s inner city – long neglected and underestimated. Within the canon of medical historical research in South Africa (an overview of which, published in 2008, may be found here, and later examples, here and here) two major studies have been conducted on the history of pharmacy. The first, A History of Organised Pharmacy in South Africa, 1885-1950 by Mike Ryan, was published in 1986 by the Society for the History of Pharmacy in South Africa (this was adapted from Ryan’s 1983 MA thesis). The second, Pharmacy in the Transvaal, 1894-1994 by Dorothy Goyns, was published in 1995 by the Pharmaceutical Society of South Africa. Both studies provide a broad scope and clear chronology of the development of the profession, focusing on key events and personalities. In the 30-odd years since these studies were published, the Society for the History of Pharmacy of South Africa has ceased to exist, at least in name, and in 2023 the former premises of the National Pharmacy Museum and Library at 52 Glenhove Road, Johannesburg, were sold and the collections downsized and relocated to new premises in Woodmead and Illovo.

All of this may suggest a veritable lack of interest in the history of South African pharmacy, particularly in recent years. However, the body of research on indigenous medicine, ethnobotany and the historical use and regulations of pharmaceuticals continues to grow. Additionally, historical investigations have been conducted into medical pluralism and hybridity among different racial and ethnic groups in the Witwatersrand that result in varying preferences for and consumption of herbs, home remedies and patent and proprietary medicines from the mid-nineteenth to mid-twentieth centuries. Against this backdrop, research into the history of pharmacy in South Africa may be reframed considering this complex network of culturally informed, politically regulated (self-)medication.

Histories of pharmacy may also be considered alongside histories of public health. In the South African historical context, public health has been convincingly linked to urban planning. This connection is exemplified by Maynard Swanson’s coining of the term ‘sanitation syndrome’ to describe the role played by infection and disease in the creation of urban apartheid in South Africa. Another example of this link is the inclusion of town planning clauses in the 1919 Public Health Act and 1920 Housing Act, the passing of which was precipitated by the Spanish Flu epidemic. Considering this, the possibility of examining the changing urban landscape of Joburg alongside the growth and development of pharmacy in the city is intriguing.

Given my undergraduate background in Archaeology and Chemistry, the research for my MSc in Archaeology brings together my interests in historical Johannesburg and the history of science. My work uses pharmacists’ prescription books from the 1890s to the 1930s as an archive of spatial and demographic information on several Johannesburg pharmacies and their clientele. Further information on the spatial expansion of the pharmacy profession in the city comes from a series of fire insurance maps of Johannesburg from 1895 (updated and extended in 1910) and 1937 that plot fire risk and consequently reveal the locations of inner-city pharmacies and their relationships to surrounding businesses and infrastructure. By analysing and mapping this information, a once bustling medico-commercial network of pharmacies and clientele may be revealed.

I believe that such historical networks and interactions will be important in the reinvigoration of Joburg’s inner-city, the return to its “glory days”. President Ramaphosa’s words are interesting and encouraging, as they frame Johannesburg’s turbulent past in a positive light, something to yearn for. They recognise, hopefully, that the city’s history and urban fabric are worth preserving and highlight that Johannesburg and its people have always managed to defy regulation, subvert expectations, an adapt to new challenges – a message I hope to see conveyed on the global stage of the 2025 G20 Summit.

Note: The headline image of this post is a photograph I took of part of the pharmacy display at the Wits Adler Museum of Medicine.

From Resident to Researcher: The Alienation of ‘Knowing Too Much’

I spent many of my school holidays in Midrand – an area described as Johannesburg’s ‘in-between’ suburb. With its lavish gated communities, malls, and rapid developments, Midrand always felt removed from the grittier and more historic parts of the city. Having spent years in the suburban areas of Johannesburg, I had a vague sense of what the Central Business District (CBD) was like. I had ideas about its robustness and chaos, but I hardly ever went there…mostly as I was concerned about my safety.    

Then came my PhD. My doctoral research focused on how Urban Ecological Infrastructure (UEI) can be used as a tool to adapt to climate change impacts in the City of Johannesburg. Consequently, I spent much time in the CBD!

UEIs include green spaces/parks, wetlands, urban forests, and even green roofs. Essentially, UEIs are natural or semi-natural features within cities that provide environmental and social benefits to those living in them. I wanted to find out if such infrastructures exist within Jo’burg’s CBD. I also wanted to understand if and how these UEIs could aid with better responses to heatwaves, flooding, and other climatic threats.

To answer these research questions, I used a mixed-methods approach. As such, I incorporated the use of satellite imagery, climate data from the South African Weather Services (SAWS), and interviews with municipal stakeholders, private consultants, and researchers/academics who helped guide decisions on using UEIs for climate adaptation. I was keen to better understand how the city viewed UEIs and what their plans were for effective climate adaptation. Relatedly, I wanted to know what plans for UEIs were in motion, and how many UEIs existed, if any?

The analysis of my climate data from SAWS indicated that between 1993 – 2023, minimum and maximum temperatures in Johannesburg increased by 0.03 °C and 0.025 °C respectively. I attributed this increase to declining vegetation cover in the metro due to rapid urbanisation caused by a rising population. The unequal distribution of green UEIs across different economic and racial groups further contributed to the increasing temperatures. Annual precipitation over the period increased by 5.407 mm due to increased deforestation, land use changes, and the El Nino-Southern Oscillation (ENSO).

I am sure you want to know more about what I found! But for this blog, I actually want to focus more on my experience in the field and less about reporting on my findings.

My research involved interviews with various stakeholders, which meant I met with some very senior people. My interactions with city officials were interesting and felt daunting, as I was basically asking them if they were delivering on the policy promises they had made! I asked them for the locations of the UEIs, as well as who managed/maintained them? I was also asking them whether there were any inequalities amongst the upper and lower economic classes when it came to the distribution of UEIs in the city? For this doctoral researcher, being in these spaces and asking such direct questions to such senior officials felt bold and nerve wrecking, but also, empowering. And in one particular interaction, I knew that what I was doing was important, as my one participant remarked, “You researchers and academics think you know it all”. Under ordinary circumstances, such a statement would have offended me, but in that moment, I realised I was asking all the right questions. That feeling pushed me to persevere and conduct the research as best I could. Not only for the sake of my research integrity but also to critically engage with the matter at hand, “how (if at all) is the city preparing for and adapting to the increasing climate challenges?”

Through my time in the field, I began to realise something strange: the more I studied the city, the less I felt I truly knew it. My coming in as a researcher meant that I had to view the city through a new lens – one shaped by critical analysis, policy frameworks, and institutional interviews. The reality is I wasn’t merely observing it; I was interrogating it. Consequently, my experience, although necessary and fruitful, felt very alienating. The alienation came from the swift realisation that my doctoral work would expose serious challenges within the metro. Although unpublished as yet, my findings demonstrate that climate action is being sidelined. However, what stood out the most was that despite the weight of bureaucracy and inequality impacting on a swift response, I saw a city trying to be resilient. A most memorable example is the rehabilitation of the Jukskei River which is one of the ways they aim to harness UEIs for climate resilience in the area by scaling nature based solutions for climate resilience in the city. That got a thumbs up from me!

My experience also meant discovery as I began to understand that Johannesburg not only carried childhood memories, but it was a complex and living system that required remediation and urgent attention. I understood that being a researcher in your own city means sitting with the discomfort of certain realities.

I’ve come to learn that simplifying science doesn’t mean avoiding jargon; it means being honest about how science changes and influences us, how it unsettles us, and teaches us to see differently. For me, my fieldwork wasn’t about collecting data, it was about unlearning, relearning, and reconnecting with my city in a deeper and more meaningful way.

While much in the way of cross sector collaboration is needed to prioritise climate change, Johannesburg is still home and is, as far as I could ascertain from my research, ready to adapt to climate change through UEIs.