Cape Town's circle of saints

Hidden among leafy lanes against a backdrop of vineyard-clad slopes, the glass-walled kramat of Sayed Mahmud offers a mesmerising stop. Stone tablets retell the chilling journey of three political prisoners shipped in chains from Batavia:

“On 24 January 1667, the ship the Polsbroek left Batavia and arrived here on 13 May 1668 with three political prisoners in chains. Malays of the West Coast of Sumatra who were banished to the Cape… They were rulers ‘Orang Cayen’, men of wealth and influence. Two were sent to the Company’s Forest, and one to Robben Island.”

Allow time to wander the landscaped gardens and admire the views of the towering Constantiaberg mountain.

Beneath oaks and beside a stream you’ll find another green-domed shrine, improbably set on the doorstep of one of the Cape’s most celebrated wine estates. It’s a striking juxtaposition: quiet devotion in the heart of wine country.

While most visitors flock to Signal Hill for the postcard views, it’s worth a stop at this striking kramat in the shadow of Lion’s Head. Banished to the Cape in 1780, Tuan Guru spent 12 years on Robben Island before being released. Famed for transcribing the Qur'an from memory, the madrasah [Islamic school] he established on Dorp Street in the city centre would, in 1794, become home to the first mosque in South Africa. Today, more than 220 years later, Auwal Mosque remains a cornerstone of the city’s Muslim community.

Robben Island’s story as a place of exile didn’t begin in the 20th century. Long before Mandela made this island prison famous, Sayed Abduraghman Motura had the misfortune of becoming the first prisoner to live out his days on Robben Island. Today his kramat stands just beyond prison walls.

If one site anchors the circle of saints, it is this one on the sandy dunes of Macassar. Banished beyond the Cape colony with his 49 followers in 1694, Sheikh Yusuf settled near the Eerste River dunes, and his fledgling community is widely regarded as the root of Islam in South Africa. When Sheikh Yusuf died on 23 May 1699, he was buried on a hill at nearby Faure, where his kramat is still found today, offering memorable views back to distant Table Mountain.

On the Atlantic coast, 99 stone steps climb through milkwood shade to a small cliff-top shrine with a big sea view. It’s a unique pairing: salt air, granite boulders and a quiet room of prayer utterly at ease in the landscape.

There are dozens of kramats scattered around the Cape Peninsula. Head south toward Simon’s Town, where the simple kramats of Tuan Dea Koasa and Tuan Ismail Dea Malela gaze over False Bay. Inland, a curious pyramid sits near the shrine of Sayed Abdul Kader outside Caledon. Alongside the scenic Bain’s Kloof Pass, the grave known simply as Sheikh Suleiman lies in fynbos above the Witte River. None is grand, but they offer a haunting reminder of how widely the circle of saints spread across the Cape colony.

Access: Most kramats are open daily and free to enter. Larger sites often have a caretaker. Always remove shoes before stepping inside, dress modestly and keep phones on silent.

When to go: Weekdays are generally quiet, except for Friday afternoons. Expect more visitors around Ramadan and before Hajj, when local Muslims come to pray at the shrines.

Etiquette: What’s important to realise is that kramats are not museums: they are living spaces of prayer and devotion. Visitors of all faiths are welcome to visit, learn and reflect, but make sure to remove your shoes before entering, dress modestly and keep voices low. Certainly don’t sit on the grave site. Photographs are fine if taken with respect.

Further reading: The Cape Mazaar Society offers background on each shrine and practical directions for planning your own loop. Mohammed Ameen Dhansay offers insightful tours of the kramats.