I live in the city. When I travel to rural parts of South Africa, I’m always fascinated by the vibrancy, colours, huts, hawkers, street stylists and street markets. I love the women carrying wares on their heads and babies on their backs, the men roasting … Continue reading Pics, privacy and poverty porn.
I was in my early twenties when I travelled around the USA. I remember walking into a Backpackers in New Mexico, the Abominable Snowmansion, and falling in immediate passionate and impulsive love with the hippie manager. I landed up staying there for about six months, … Continue reading Terra Khaya, Hogsback
‘I think you should go left here?’ I said to Frederika. ‘I donno, it’s not really a road is it, maybe we should go back, find the right road?’ ‘Julie did say the road was bad, she didn’t say this bad, ugh take the left, … Continue reading Julie, what were you thinking?
I left Zimbabwe when I was sixteen. Sixteen is a difficult age at the best of times and leaving behind everything that I knew was hard. I missed home and I missed my friends. I missed the Zambezi River. And even though it was just … Continue reading On Zimbabwe, home and belonging
My first words at the Nirox Word festival were ‘You gotta be kidding?’. This was me after paying a pretty steep R 360 entrance fee, having my water and snacks confiscated and then being asked for another R 100 for a yoga session. But in … Continue reading Words
Today I was in a stationery shop, minding my own business and stocking up on notebooks and glitter pens. A man stood at the till, buying a couple of things, including a ruler. As he was leaving he said ‘thank you’ to the shop assistant, … Continue reading A man and a ruler.
When I was in my twenties I backpacked through the USA. Every so often I would find a laundromat, throw in a few quarters and do my washing. And that was how I developed a thing for cowboys. I was in Taos New Mexico watching … Continue reading Cowboys