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Articles written by Botsotso Mabhalane

Makhafula Vilakazi, Jita from Back Opposite

Fast forward to High School, Mzwakhe Mbuli, The People’s Poet is taking his shot at interesting me in spoken word, entwining it with the ever-alluring potpourri of musical instruments but falls short as the turpitudes of our environs catch up with him and see him serve extensive jail time at the Leeuwkop penal facility. Needless to say, this was the end of his illustrious career.

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Botsotso the Outdoor Pantsula

East Rand’s Tembisa, my then coal smoke misty locale complete with unforgivingly rough and dusty streets, was a perpetual hive of all kinds of activities and had no time nor place for extreme sports or outdoor activities. After all, life was already an extreme sport in these parts as my permanently judgemental childhood friend often quipped.

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The wife of Bra Styles, a funeral home owner in BaSotho Section well known for chopping his enemies’ index fingers off, Bubu was no sugar mama. I’d fallen in love.

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Festive Hangovers

Bra Dan had been discovered in a rather compromising position with one of his wife’s stokvel associates in a back room somewhere. His wife of fifteen years in the resident rummy aunt-Barbara plainly lost it as she chased after him down our dusty boulevard, pick hoe in hand, screaming obscenities. Clearly Sis’ Nancy was a stokvel member for reasons non-related to the stokvel.

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Taxi to Zonke

The last time I ever found myself trapped inside a people-carrying contraption of the taxi industry was shortly before the launch of the now demonized taxi recapitalisation programme that sought to reduce the number of a washed-out herd of Datsun E20s, the Toyota Super Series and the late 1970s favourites, amakatshibane.

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