When you look at different suburbs and their business districts, it’s hard not to ask why one area is thriving while another is run down and neglected. The easy answer is usually “the local economy,” but that’s only part of the story. The real difference lies in people—who arrives, who invests, and who is brave enough to go first.
Some suburbs are overwhelmed by rapid change and decline into slums. Yeoville in Johannesburg is a good example. In the 1990s, Yeoville was vibrant and exciting. It had great restaurants, clubs, and live music venues—Dylan’s being one that stands out in my memory. But the writing was on the wall. An unchecked influx of people, combined with failing infrastructure and governance, led to an almost overnight collapse. Today, it’s simply not worth visiting.
Other areas follow a different path: rise, fall, and then rebirth.
Take Melville. There was a time when it was buzzing—clubs, ravers, music culture, restaurants, and cafés. It flourished, then became overdeveloped, and eventually started to decline. The last time I was there, it still had wonderful eateries and interesting shops, but the area itself was dirty. Business owners had to hire their own cleaners just to keep their storefronts attractive. The ecosystem was no longer being fed properly.
Now contrast that with Linden.
I remember Linden as a dull, unremarkable suburb. Once upon a time there was a charming old-fashioned coffee shop I used to visit before work, but after that, Linden faded into obscurity. Then something changed.
About a decade or two ago, a handful of entrepreneurs saw potential where others saw nothing. The Argentinian bakery arrived. The Whippet. Independent bookshops. A record store. These were the pioneer businesses—the first movers willing to take risks when the area still had no “vibe.”
They were the so-called “crazies.”
Often these pioneers aren’t small operators at all, but families or investors willing to put serious money into renovating buildings and opening quality eateries or specialty stores. That initial investment sends a signal. Once it works, others follow.
Today, Linden is packed with excellent businesses: art stores, record shops, bookshops, food stores, and smaller independent traders selling handmade clothing, leather goods, jewellery, and specialty foods. The first movers created the conditions that allowed everyone else to succeed.
Not every decision fits perfectly. There’s now a Pick n Pay Express in Linden, which feels slightly out of place in what has become a more upmarket, boutique-oriented area. A store with more flair—perhaps a Spar with personality—might have blended better. But even that speaks to the success of the ecosystem: big players want in once the risk has been taken by others.
What makes Linden especially powerful is that the business owners care. I was there again recently, after not visiting for over two and a half years, and a waitress remembered me—and even asked about my daughter. That kind of continuity creates real community.
And this matters because small businesses create permanent jobs. Big corporations create jobs too, but only for a narrow slice of society. Independent businesses absorb people who might otherwise never find work. They train, they mentor, and they anchor communities.
Governments often claim they “create jobs,” but they don’t. People create jobs. Free people. Bold people. Visionary people. Crazy people, if you like.
Ireland is an interesting example. The Irish government recognised the economic value of the arts and creative industries and began actively supporting artists—paying living wages and backing creative work. Why? Because artists don’t just create art. They create ecosystems: tourism, framing, printing, restaurants, events, retail, and more. The knock-on effects are endless.
Business ecosystems don’t emerge by accident. They require capital, yes—but more importantly, they require vision, talent, motivation, and courage. They need people who see what a place could be, not what it currently is.
People are drawn to energy. They want to be part of something alive. You can feel it when you walk through these areas—the enjoyment of people running interesting, meaningful businesses instead of just another copy-and-paste store.
There will always be space for practical businesses: supermarkets, dry cleaners, florists, courier services. They are necessary. But ecosystems are built by those who bring personality, creativity, and soul.
If you notice something like this starting near you—an unusual café, a niche store, a renovated building—pay attention. Investigate. Ask questions. See where you might fit in.
Because business ecosystems are built by pioneers.
And pioneers always look a little crazy at first.
