For a year and a half, he was the guy everyone sent their slips to before confirming. He didn’t ask for that job, it just happened. First, it was his cousin in Ga-Rankuwa who noticed his tickets were always close. Then it was a neighbour, then a colleague, then strangers in WhatsApp groups who started calling him “the Prophet.” Not because he prayed over his bets, though he did sometimes, but because his numbers made sense in a way others couldn’t explain. His odds lined up. His choices landed. His slips paid. His name is Vusi. He’s 32 now, but when the winning streak started, he’d just left his job…

Before TikTok dances and Instagram filters, before hashtags could turn strangers into celebrities, we had something else. We had grandparents. We had front porches and kitchen chairs, slow afternoons, and stories told over cups of tea. No ring lights. No algorithms. Just authority carved from age, silence, and that one look they gave you that could stop your whole personality mid-sentence. They didn’t ask for followers. They didn’t need validation. And yet they shaped everything, the way we sat, the way we spoke, the words we used and the ones we weren’t allowed to. They were the original gatekeepers of style, of shame, of wisdom, of warning. And in their…

This coming August, Pretoria will be transformed into a living tapestry of tradition and modernity as it hosts the highly anticipated Indigenous Craft and Music Festival 2025. The event is poised to be a landmark in the country’s cultural calendar, offering an immersive journey into South Africa’s vast artistic heritage. From the delicate weavings of ancestral artistry to the pulse of traditional and modern music, the festival promises to be a deeply human celebration, rooted in history, and alive with future possibilities. The festival will span multiple days, threading its way through Pretoria’s central parklands, historic sites and public squares. In doing so, it underscores an essential message, culture is…

The house was too small for noise, but that didn’t stop us. Two bedrooms, seven people, one hallway that doubled as a wrestling ring, a courtroom, a football pitch, and, when the lights went out, a place to lie back and make shapes from nothing. We didn’t grow up with things. Not new ones anyway. Our shoes were cousins before they were ours. The radio only played if you hit it just right. School uniforms were altered so many times the threads forgot their original seams. But if you’d asked us then, we wouldn’t have said we were poor. Not in those words. We had other words. Words for making…

In the shadows of South Africa’s cities and towns, there are names that no longer exist, not because those people have died, but because they’ve chosen to walk away from the names they were given. It’s a quieter kind of story, far removed from newspaper headlines or political speeches. No flashing lights, no courtroom dramas. Just someone standing in a government office, signing papers, answering questions, and waiting for a new ID to arrive. The price of a name isn’t loud. It’s steady. It’s personal. It’s a kind of silent currency people spend when they’ve decided that their old life no longer fits. For some, it’s about protection. South Africa…

In a world dominated by urgent headlines and daily chaos, it’s easy to forget that behind uniforms, titles, and duties are real people capable of extraordinary kindness. On the crisp Monday morning of June 2, 2025, a routine moment in Durban transformed into something heartwarming. Metro Officer Zama, a member of Durban Metro Police, unknowingly stepped into the spotlight for the best reason possible, genuine compassion. It all started when Lorraine Marriott and her daughter found themselves stuck on the side of the road. Their car had broken down in a stretch of Durban not known for its friendliness to stranded motorists. Vulnerable and unsure of what to do next,…

There’s a red plastic table at the back of Mma Lethabo’s spaza. It’s not the main counter. That space is reserved for NikNaks, candles, and airtime recharges, the daily hustle. The red table is tucked behind the freezer that hums with quiet fatigue, past the racks of Sunlight bars and sugar sachets. It’s not official. There’s no signage. No appointment book. But it’s where people go when they need answers the stock sheet can’t provide. In Diepkloof, in parts of Tembisa, in dusty corners of Gqeberha and Katlehong, there’s often a place like this. A shop where you can buy bread and get your heart examined. Where the owner knows…

In South Africa, nothing enters a home without a history. That new kettle on the counter? It once belonged to your aunt who got it from her wedding registry, and now it’s heating water in your kitchen because she finally upgraded to one with LED lights. The couch you watch soccer on? That’s your parents’ old one, patched and revived more times than you can count. Even the baby’s cot had three previous occupants, cousins, neighbours, and a family friend who never returned the baseboard screws. We live in a hand-me-down economy, where objects carry memory like perfume clings to a scarf. In our households, new is often just a…

In the arid expanse of South Africa’s Karoo, where drought and water scarcity are part of daily life, access to clean drinking water has long been an urgent issue. Amid this harsh reality, a forward-thinking pilot project is introducing solar-powered water purification units to some of the region’s most remote communities. Designed for mobility and simplicity, these units harness the Karoo’s abundant sunlight to purify groundwater and limited surface sources, delivering thousands of litres of safe, drinkable water each day without the need for traditional infrastructure. Already, the impact is visible. In places like Victoria West, communities that once depended on inconsistent borehole deliveries now have a reliable source of…

Across the Eastern Cape and KwaZulu-Natal, rain is treated with careful attention. In towns where water shortages and supply interruptions are part of life, rainfall is not simply a background event,  it is something to be noticed, measured, and stored. Over the past few years, a quiet culture of invention has taken hold in these communities. Individuals have begun creating homemade rainwater harvesting systems using scrap materials, recycled containers, and whatever else they can find. These are not official projects or branded solutions. They are one-person efforts, crafted in backyards, on rooftops, alongside spaza shops, and behind township betting kiosks. The designs are often simple yet effective. In Butterworth, for…