You moved around quite a bit, didn’t you, Bra Fikz? Anyway, remember that cat? Remember how he was screaming blue murder and telling you how he would ‘finish you’?

Indeed, the reason why I am writing this is because I have been witness, over the cause of several months, to a total disregard of ethical media practice that has completely devastated my friend’s life. The rote repetitions of spurious and utterly bizarre accusations levelled against her have only been the proverbial nails in the coffin.

There are so many existential crises that Keletso’s If You Keep Digging spark within me, but again, these are not of the kind one puts in a review that one wishes to be taken seriously. For instance, how dare a first-time author write with such authority? With such assurance? Who the hell writes a debut book without going out of their way to impress the reader; relying solely on a storytelling that comes so naturally that it has arrived on the scene almost fully formed? And so on, and so I will not say these things

The real reasons, as everyone in that house knew, were that my uncle was a gangster and a known tsotsi, with many enemies, and she couldn’t or wouldn’t trust him to bring me back in one piece. My gran’s place was where we spent our school holidays, my parents having moved to Swaziland (now called Eswatini), shortly after the birth of my older brother.