Until Not One is Caged
The morning before the protest, I took a slow drive to the circus grounds. In a dilapidated part of town, with rusted barbed wire fencing and broken buildings, the circus set up its tents and caravans.
A Light in the Darkness
Remembering a Childhood in Barberton
This is not going to be the usual kind of blog. While we normally chat to current figures, this is a blog about the Lowveld, and what better way to honour that than by writing about a member of one of the pioneering families: My grandmother, Shirleen.
On one Saturday morning this month, I made my gran a cup of coffee (to hell with the assumptions that us English speaking South Africans only drink tea), and sat down with her to talk about what life was like back when she was a child.
If you sit next to her for a while, she’ll tell you a story from her life.