I understood quite early in my adulthood the importance of letting go and having fun, in the exact way we did as little children.“Ke a go tshameka!”, I’d shout, excited by the thought from the moment the last school bell of the day sounded. There was, though, a routine that had to be followed almost religiously; it’d be the school uniform getting ridden off first, followed by a hearty lunch meal and time dedicated to handling homework, then finally, rounding up all the friends in the neighbourhood to begin the daily and repetitive, but never boring, festivities of playing.From Suna Baby to Hop Scotch to digging our toes into wet river sand, compacting it into miniature houses over our bare feet and chanting, “Ntlu, ntlu se thubege motsetsi o moteng!” (This house must not collapse, there’s a new mother inside!), then waiting to see whose house would still be intact the next day. This went on until the late hours of the afternoon - sometimes to the point at which I’d like to think was when evening graduated to night time..I’d always return back home with my legs ashy to the knee, sometimes, and having broken countless sweats to the extent that I’d be forced to go straight to the bathroom to avoid dirtying anything in the house. Playing was a crucial part of my life, and although it would leave me knackered every day, I’d sleep with a heart bursting with joy and peace.It is with this approach to life that I remind you, as this rather horrible year ends, to pack all your worries in a corner cupboard, dig your toes into the sand and enjoy the hug the sun gives your face.
I understood quite early in my adulthood the importance of letting go and having fun, in the exact way we did as little children.“Ke a go tshameka!”, I’d shout, excited by the thought from the moment the last school bell of the day sounded. There was, though, a routine that had to be followed almost religiously; it’d be the school uniform getting ridden off first, followed by a hearty lunch meal and time dedicated to handling homework, then finally, rounding up all the friends in the neighbourhood to begin the daily and repetitive, but never boring, festivities of playing.From Suna Baby to Hop Scotch to digging our toes into wet river sand, compacting it into miniature houses over our bare feet and chanting, “Ntlu, ntlu se thubege motsetsi o moteng!” (This house must not collapse, there’s a new mother inside!), then waiting to see whose house would still be intact the next day. This went on until the late hours of the afternoon - sometimes to the point at which I’d like to think was when evening graduated to night time..I’d always return back home with my legs ashy to the knee, sometimes, and having broken countless sweats to the extent that I’d be forced to go straight to the bathroom to avoid dirtying anything in the house. Playing was a crucial part of my life, and although it would leave me knackered every day, I’d sleep with a heart bursting with joy and peace.It is with this approach to life that I remind you, as this rather horrible year ends, to pack all your worries in a corner cupboard, dig your toes into the sand and enjoy the hug the sun gives your face.
