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Like most of my adventures, this one starts off sketchy. It follows a blank stare from the car rental agent, deflecting my empty pleas when I cannot produce my South African driver’s license. ‘I left it in the flat, can I show you a copy on my phone instead?’, I don’t realise how ridiculous I
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A former would-be lover, after realising the concavity of the kind of love and life I wanted to inhabit said something that has stayed with me. There is a split second between receiving, processing and reacting to information. In that time, I realised he was right. I do live with my head in the clouds.
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I am flailing, mid-air, mid-worlds. I have cut myself from the ground, from home. I am desperate for warm soil, familiarity, but the flailing takes to flying and I can’t explain how I am happy here. I am waiting for the African hair store to open when a breeze gathers around me – London feels
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Adaptation is a process in self-preservation but can quickly take the form of assimilation to a degree of self-catabolism. We have all borne the pretence of assumed opulence when an African visits or lives abroad, returning with a 2-minute-noddles accent. The more Africans I meet here, the more I witness an active abortion of what
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My predicament is laughable. I am not sure where I’d be safer; in South Africa or in the first world country I current live in. At the UK death rate, Africans will be donating funds to the west and changing channels to avoid adds with dying Europeans and donations for R1 that can feed a
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We were circling London, waiting in the air traffic que to land. That’s when it settled in me. Before this moment I had felt everything. I had been excited about finally having something genuinely good happen to me, about God showing up in an undeniable way. I was overwhelmed with love, the eruptious celebrations for
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Hi. This is so cool. Ok. So here’s what happened… I am 12 years old. I live with my mother in an outside room in Chiawelo, ext 3, hala Mangalani. Before we moved here, we shared another room with my father at the SAPS barracks in Protea. Propriety was relative, privacy a simple turn of
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