Zange was released 7 years ago and we’ve played it hundreds of times since.
To see people around the world singing this song, in my mother tongue isiXhosa, is something that once felt unimaginable to those who came before me.
I'm anchored by the fact that everything will be okay. It is my comfort and my peace.
At any given moment, I know for sure that I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be- whether it is by default or design, one thing remains true; faith affords me the opportunity to find my way out
The first time someone asks about the person not knowing they died.
You watch the person die again in the face of their person you broke the news to.
They were alive to them. Then they died to them.
You remember when that happened to you and it feels like the first day again.
There’s something deeply comforting about watching women choose themselves fully, unapologetically, and in ways that make sense for their own lives.
Not the polished, perfect version of “living your best life,” but the real one. The one shaped by lessons learned the hard way, by boundaries that weren’t always there, by moments that forced growth.
It makes me happy seeing women protect their peace, not because life suddenly became soft, but because they’ve experienced enough to know what it costs when they don’t. There’s a quiet power in that.
In choosing rest without guilt. In walking away without needing to explain. In finding joy in things that once felt out of reach.
And the most beautiful part is how real it is. It’s not about having everything figured out, it’s about knowing yourself a little better each time.
It’s about choosing happiness, even if it looks different from what you once imagined.
It’s about evolving, but staying grounded in truth.
There’s growth in that kind of living. There’s honesty. And there’s something incredibly inspiring about women who have learned, adjusted, and are still choosing softness, joy, and peace anyway.
School will unlock a life you thought was a distant memory. Regardless of whether it's leaving Kasi or achieving any other goal pertaining to your life. Slow, long and painful but when it's harvest season, you'll be nice.
This is really beautifully put. There’s something very kind about not letting someone lose themselves for you even when you know they would. Not taking advantage of how far someone is willing to go for you when they have that kind of devotion towards you.
No.
Going back is like vomiting on the pavement, going inside, showering and brushing your teeth, then deciding… “Hmmm… you know what? Let me go back outside, get on all fours, and lick that vomit; lap it up on that like a hungry dog, and see if it tastes good.”
Hope that helps.
The moment you lose a parent, there comes a point where you start measuring every pain against that loss and nothing ever feels as painful, you end up responding to life with a kind of nonchalance not because you don’t care, but because you’ve already survived the worst.
master your craft so completely that it becomes your language. not the language you speak to impress others, but the language you think in. where the work isn’t separate from you, isn’t something you do, but something you are. where your hands know before your mind does. where you’ve repeated the fundamentals so many times they’ve dissolved into instinct.
it’s not just talent. it’s mind and body numbing devotion. it’s showing up when inspiration left. it’s the thousand hours nobody saw that make the one hour everybody wants.
excellence is a religion.
and the only prayer that matters is practice.