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Death is a lonely place
The more time passes, the more intimate death feels. A place where only I reside, the place where you no longer live. I cease to exist in this place without you. I; now survive here. A place where only I see the value of your life, it’s a deeply lonely existence here. Your impact is…
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Die mal vrou
Nee, sy of hy is mal (No, she or he is mad) A phrase I understood well growing up in a neighbourhood where mental health was not even considered as a medical condition. The old uncle or aunty sitting on street corners or wandering down the road talking to themselves was a normal part of…
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What does death feel like?
Death is defined as it pertains to human life, as an irreversible process where someone loses their existence as a person. 3 months ago my mother ceased to exist as a person and 3 months ago I ceased to exist as the same person. The definition of death no one gives you is that death…
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You will never be the same again
This week I woke up with the resounding knowing that my mom’s illness is not a nightmare I will ever wake up from. I just stood there making my morning coffee, while bawling my eyes out. The knowing that I need my mother more than I have ever needed her and not being able to…
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Systemic Cycles
I have to move in a way that teaches my kids that we are pioneers in a world that wants to take our joy and rest. I must rest so that I can teach my kids to move with ease in a world that will turn them into labourers. I need to dance with this…
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Bus legs
As a child of colour who comes from a low income home in South Africa, you would have encountered the process of developing bus legs. For me that moment came right after high school. My dad could drive me by car as long as it wasn’t a long route like the route into town, for…
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The Hood will call you home.
As a coloured kid hailing from a world of poverty there is an intrinsic agreement you make with yourself. A sense of “I will make it out” which is driven into your being by the poverty you see growing up. In my case it started when seeing how our neighbours often struggled to make ends…