Passing Through Bethulie
On our trip to the Eastern Cape in April 2021, we booked an overnight stay in a town called Bethulie, to break the long journey. Bethulie, on the eastern side of the Gariep Dam, on the Southern-most tip of the Free State and close to the Eastern Cape border, is largely a sheep and cattle farming town established in 1829. It has the longest combined road and rail bridge in Southern Africa, which was completed in 1901. Bethulie also contains the site of one of the largest Boer concentration camps. The town came to some prominence when screen writer and actor Patrick Mynhardt, it’s most famous son, published his book called, “A Boy from Bethulie”.
Continue readingOn Grieving
I started writing this post last August, a year after my mum passed away and it is now a year since my dad’s passing. It is surreal to reflect and write when you always think that people will live forever. It has taken me some time to appreciate that they do. This post is dedicated to so many friends and family who have lost loved ones particularly in the last year, and not just from this awful pandemic.
Continue readingA Road Runs Through It
This feels like Botswana, I said to Kanti as we slowly drove north-east on the tarred main road. He in the back seat, me behind the wheel, windows open, guarding against the lurking Covid-19. Cutting through the Dinokeng Game Reserve, about 50km north of Pretoria, with unfenced bush on either side, the road was like that out from the Chobe reserve in Botswana. Big game like elephant were just as likely to step out from the bush, though at about 21 000 hectares, the carrying capacity of the reserve requires their active management. Impala and zebra however made their crossings with familiarity. I wondered if the lions of the reserve ever lolled on the edges of the road or crossed it. There is an incongruity of tarred main road and wild animal that at first is confusing, then seamless – like that in northern Botswana.
Continue readingStruggle Exile Love
Afzal Moola, a prolific poet recently had his book of poetry and prose called Struggle, Exile & Love: Prose and Poems published. I met Afzal when he first returned from exile in the early 90s. Together with his friends they house sat when we went away on holiday. We had to budget at least half a day cleaning up after they had left. The scoundrel still remains apologetic to this day. He has matured into a remarkable and well-recognised poet. This is the best way I could pay tribute to his profound poetry.
Continue readingSummitting Swartberg
My family gave me the mandate to arrange our December holiday in 2005. Since I had recently acquired an off road vehicle, long distance travel and camping in a different place every 2 days was my choice. They were anxious but excited as we travelled more than 5000kms navigating through 8 provinces. It was truly an adventure as my journal, our pictures but mostly our memories recall. This poem was written shortly after we descended the Swartberg and camped on the outskirts of Oudtshoorn.
Continue readingIn Memory of Joe Bulbulia
Yousuf Mahomed Ismail (Joe) Bulbulia passed away at 10:40 pm on Saturday 22nd August aged 67. This post provides a brief biography, tributes from friends and family, a gallery of pictures collected and access to a recording of his memorial. It is dedicated in memory of Joe who will sadly be missed by his family and many friends across the world.
Continue readingTribute to Johnny Clegg
Johnny Clegg, a music icon, died on Thursday afternoon 16 July 2019 succumbing to pancreatic cancer. I have several fond memories.
Continue readingSureness of Age
I wrote this poem in tribute to a great friend and comrade who has been an encouraging support for the years I have known him. I had the privilege of reading this out to him on his 50th birthday celebration in 2011. To Jeremy 🙏.
Continue reading“Free, Free At Last”
“Free, free at last”, my body insignificantly exclaimed as I finally braved the lockdown and the cold for an early morning cycle. My mind though kept on questioning my body, ‘Free, while millions are but free?”. I momentarily cringed as the cool morning breeze kissed my face. After 2 months isolated at home, I did feel free.
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