Oh General Mkhwanazi!
Wena the Milpark Hospital giver!
Wena the panic attack causer!
Wena the plea deal hlukanisa!
Wena ‘where’s the evidence’ giver!
Wena ten past 4 multiplied to infinity!
#CountryDuty 🇿🇦
So the big Sandton law firms are fighting the transformation agenda in the legal fraternity. What are the black lawyers who work in these law firms saying about this!?
A coworker brings two lunches to work every day.
I thought his wife was spoiling him.
Turns out the second one isn’t for him. It’s for a guy in the neighboring department who’s on unpaid internship, living alone and barely able to afford food.
My coworker found out about it by chance and started bringing an extra lunch every day. It’s been six months now.
The intern thinks the cafeteria is running a promotion—two meals for the price of one.
But there’s no promotion.
Just a person who cooks an extra portion every evening for someone who barely has enough to get by.
‘Oh my God, how much stuff have I not allowed myself to enjoy because I was in my own head — feeling like I was unworthy?'
This just hit me like a ton of bricks. Fuck.
Mercy is when you can’t even explain how you’re surviving, yet you are. You don’t have it all figured out, but each day, God sends help, encouragement, and provision right when you need it—showing up quietly but powerfully.
Look at you. You have come this far, you survived through things you thought you couldn't, and you are here. I hope you are proud of yourself. Even when this journey looks different than you thought it would be, remember there is still time to be where you are meant to be.
Literally! I’m home with my son kaGogo. He’s happy AF with his cousins! It’s been 5 years since she passed, I’ve realized I’ll always be fake happy here
Good morning fellow self appointed advocates, commissioners and generals.. oohhh I act like I'm okay, but deep down I miss my Sovi 🥺❤️ #AdHocCommittee#MadlangaCommission
I went to a funeral last spring.
Guy from church.
58 years old.
Heart attack at his desk.
The pastor said he was a hard worker. A provider.
His wife said he gave everything to his career.
His kids didn't speak.
I watched them.
Sitting in the front row.
Staring straight ahead.
They weren't crying.
They'd already grieved.
Years ago.
When he missed the games.
When he chose the office.
When he was there but wasn't.
He died on a Tuesday.
They lost him long before.
I sat in my car after and made a list.
What would my kids say?
Not what I hope they'd say.
What they'd actually say.
Based on evidence.
Based on where I sit.
Based on what I choose.
I didn't like the list.
So I started changing it.
One decision at a time.
Your kids are writing your eulogy right now.
Every day you give them new material.
What are they going to say?
That you provided?
Or that you were there?
You don't get to edit it later.
The funeral is just the reading.
The writing is today.
My graduation in 2017. Booked gogo her first flight and she came to see the grandchild she raised graduate at UCT. She passed 3 year years. It’s a reminder of her hard work!