“Think not of the books you’ve bought as a ‘to be read’ pile. Instead, think of your bookcase as a wine cellar. You collect books to be read at the right time, the right place, and the right mood.”
–Luc van Donkersgoed
7 farmers were murdered in South Africa in 2024.
An average of 68 people are murdered in the United States every day.
53,528 Palestinians have died in Gaza, 80% of those civilian deaths.
Only one of these is genocide.
here's the crux of the PMR scale & why it's so easy for developing countries to end up with lower scores
a strong regulatory framework to protect local industries filters into a lower score
unsurprisingly, all major BRICS nations score on the lower end of the scale
⚠️"South Africa is the most difficult place in the world to do business!!" ‼️
business media & "economists" thrive on terrifying headlines, social media outrage & ramping up fear
here's a purely fact-based analysis on this chart worth reading [thread]
I hate to be a Cassandra but there is little to celebrate with this @Eskom_SA Kusile mega Coal Power Station, the final unit coming online only now, 17 years after the Final Investment Decision was taken in 2008, costing nearly 3 times its original budget and a site of major corruption by a number of Eskom employees, one of the reasons the utility is so indebted, draining the fiscus of close to half a trillion rand in bailouts between 2008-2026.
5 years since lockdown, this week – let’s not forget the lessons learned
I remember lying on this very beach at the Beacon Island Hotel in Plettenberg Bay in January 2020, reading a short but, to me, deeply unsettling article. A strange, flu-like virus had broken out in Wuhan, China. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up. As a lifelong germaphobe and someone who’d seen every doomsday movie from Outbreak to Contagion, I knew how quickly something small could become something global.
A few weeks later, lulled into a false sense of distance and normality, I was skiing in Switzerland with my eldest son and father-in-law. Then, almost overnight, the slopes were closed, the streets emptied, and a whisper turned into a warning. We raced home before the airports shut and the borders slammed closed. The world was no longer what it had been.
When COVID arrived in South Africa, it brought more than illness - it brought confusion, fear, and panic. I remember writing published thought pieces at the time, trying to bring clarity and calm. Because panic doesn’t solve anything. It only amplifies.
When we shut our agency’s doors for lockdown, we anchored ourselves in one hopeful, defiant thought:
“Our doors may be closed, but our minds remain open.”
And they did. We kept creating, connecting, caring. We learned to lead virtually, to listen harder, to be kinder.
Now, five years on, I find myself reflecting.
What did we learn?
And equally mportantly - what did we forget?
Are we more connected - or more isolated?
I sadly think, both. We’re digitally tethered, yet often emotionally adrift. Teens and young adults especially missed crucial rites of passage - and many retreated into algorithm-fed fear and loneliness. Community became a cold screen.
Are we more compassionate - or more cynical?
In those early days, we cheered healthcare workers, shared banana bread recipes, and looked after our neighbours. But we also fell prey to conspiracy, division, and selfishness. We were at our best, and worst, often on the same day.
And South Africa?
Only here could you not buy sandals, only closed shoes, chicken pieces were fine but not roast chicken or pies. You could jog between 6am and 7am - but no strolling on the beach. The virus, apparently, enjoyed ocean air too much. It was maddening. It was hilarious.
But beneath the absurdity was real, aching tragedy. Over 7 million lives lost globally. Each one a world. Each one someone’s person. We must hold space and memory for that loss - and carry its weight with honour.
So, five years later, what now?
Now, we live. Properly.
We don’t wait to take the trip, hug the person, eat the cake, say the thing. Or don’t we?
We no longer sweat the small stuff - because we’ve seen what real crises look like. Or do we?
We grab happiness when it appears, however fleetingly?
We stay open - even when doors must close. Not sure?
Because if COVID taught us anything,
it’s that the ordinary is extraordinary in disguise. Or at least, it should have taught us that.
Let’s not forget the lessons we should have learned. Or perhaps did, but may now have forgotten.
#CovidAnniversary #OpenMinds #FiveYearsOn #Reflections #Perspective #Community #Resilience