Blackened by soot, the gutted and derelict remains of South Africa's infamous Usindiso building in central Johannesburg are an unintentional memorial to the 76 people who died here in a devastating fire two years ago.
At one time an office block, the 1950s building in the Marshalltown area was abandoned and then taken over by several hundred people desperately needing a home.
One of those was Vusi Tshabalala, who shakes his head in disbelief as he recalls how he survived the blaze on that late August night.
The fire seemed to come out of nowhere, the 45-year-old tells the BBC in a melancholic voice, raspy from years of smoking cigarettes.
Mr Tshabalala was asleep on the third floor of the five-storey building, where he was sharing a place with his then-girlfriend and brother.
Awoken by the flames, they managed to escape by covering themselves in wet blankets and running in the dark towards an exit at the rear.
As we were running others got injured, because when they fell down, they couldn't get back up. People were running over them. I thank God that we came out without any injuries.
The tragedy shocked the nation and highlighted the deep housing inequalities in Africa's wealthiest city - inequalities the authorities promised to address.
Visiting just hours after the blaze, President Cyril Ramaphosa called it a wake-up call to begin to address the situation of housing in the inner city. He stated, We need to find effective ways to deal with the issue of housing. But two years on, Mr Tshabalala and many others have still not found a permanent home.
Initially he was relocated to Rosettenville, 5km south of Marshalltown, but he says he left because he could not find work around there. Next he tried the industrial neighbourhood of Denver, 6km east of the Usindiso building, where other survivors have been placed - but says the frequent shootings forced him to leave.
At the moment he lives in the shadow of his former home, where other former Usindiso building residents have put up shacks in an informal settlement known as Emaxhoseni.
Mr Tshabalala blames the authorities for not doing enough to support the survivors: No-one wants to know where the people from this tragedy are living.
Some survivors have remained at a camp set up for them in Denver, though this does not mean they are happy. 29-year-old Thobeka Biyela, who works as a police volunteer, explains how she was shot earlier this year as she was asleep in her home.
I heard gunshots. Then I was hit by a bullet. I don't know who shot me but some guys were fighting outside, she recounts, struggling to hold back tears.
Ms Biyela is desperate to leave the camp but cannot afford private rent as her volunteering role pays her very little. She wants the authorities to relocate her, but two years on she has no idea if and when she will leave. If the government had relocated us after six months like they promised us, maybe I wouldn't blame them. But I blame them because it's been two years.
The BBC contacted the city mayor's office to ask why the survivors of the fire had not been relocated two years on but got no answer. Nomzamo Zondo, a lawyer and executive director of the Socio-Economic Rights Institute of South Africa, says it has been a struggle to get people out of temporary accommodation.
Generally, that doesn't happen. Without any affordable accommodation that people can move into, it's unlikely people will leave their temporary housing, she tells the BBC. There are many abandoned buildings in central Johannesburg that could provide permanent homes, but rents are beyond the reach of survivors.
As the G20 leaders' summit approaches in November, residents hold on to the hope that promised improvements will come true. However, with two years gone and little done, many survivors remain in limbo.
I don't see this changing, sighs Mr Tshabalala. If people are still living like this, I don't see any change. I don't know what is happening with our government.
