bakkie

My uncle’s bakkie

By Andrea Zanin 10-10-23 20:17

Remember when we didn’t have to wear seatbelts. When we’d curl up in the back of our parents’ Passat on the all the way from Joburg to Durbs, or ‘Maritzburg, in the school holidays.

Mopane worms

By Andrea Zanin 27-09-23 18:07

I grew up in Limpopo. Fat Baobabs cast shade in dusty daytimes, giving way to drawling Acacia silhouettes and bright orange sunsets. Before the evenings succumbed to bright starry skies that expanded for eons, we went foraging. I’d tag along with the older kids and grownups as they headed into the bushveld on the prowl […]

The flat (In Hillbrow)

By Andrea Zanin 14-09-23 09:38

They stood hand in hand and looked at the dump. The history teacher with the clear blue eyes, one that skewed under stress, and the art curator with the soft cheeks and big beard. A dump for sure but their dump nonetheless. A wizened women with a scowl and crinkles for Africa (and a broomstick […]

The robber’s grave

By Andrea Zanin 24-08-23 17:00

The robber’s grave was turned the other way. A scarlet letter on the landscape. On our school trip to Pilgrim’s Rest in the Eastern Transvaal (now Mpumalanga) we learnt about the gold rush, did some panning, bought some guinea fowl curios, saw the majestic Mac Mac, Horse Shoe and Bridal Veil Falls—but the robber’s grave. Legend […]

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