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🏃‍♂️🏃‍♀️ Early morning miles with my bestie!Kicked off the day with a solid 10km run at Run Zone Running Club - Northcli...
21/06/2025

🏃‍♂️🏃‍♀️ Early morning miles with my bestie!

Kicked off the day with a solid 10km run at Run Zone Running Club - Northcliff before heading to work today 💪🌅

Grateful for the energy, friendship, and the power of consistency. Here's to health, hustle, and good vibes only!

📢 Annual June 16 Lunch Drive coming this Sunday !!Hosted by Mrs. Makaula (my grandmother’s cousin sister) and her childr...
20/06/2025

📢 Annual June 16 Lunch Drive coming this Sunday !!

Hosted by Mrs. Makaula (my grandmother’s cousin sister) and her children 🙌🏽❤

They're collecting donations of clothes and other items to help those in need.

📍 Drop-off: 52 Zingisa Street, Lingelihle, Cradock

📞 Contact: 068 442 7914 or DM

Let’s support this beautiful initiative! 💛

Please share & spread the word 🙏🏽

Throwback to My Twin — My Brother — My Blood: Hacjivah Dayimani.As I post these childhood pictures of me and my cousin b...
05/06/2025

Throwback to My Twin — My Brother — My Blood: Hacjivah Dayimani.

As I post these childhood pictures of me and my cousin brother, Hacjivah Dayimani, I’m overwhelmed with emotion, memories flooding in from a time when life was innocent, joyful, and filled with pure laughter.

Hacjivah and I grew up incredibly close. He stayed in Cape Town with my aunt — his mom — and I was raised in Cradock by our grandmother and other family members. But whenever we were together, it was like no time had passed. We were more than cousins — we were twins in spirit. So much so that my aunt used to buy us matching clothes, and everywhere we went people called us twins. We truly felt like it.

I remember starting school in Cape Town at Marconi Beam Primary School in Milnerton. I was still very little, in Grade R, and I had a teacher who changed my life — Miss Queen. She was my role model. I adored her. That school, that place, those moments… I carry them in my heart.

We would play endlessly, laugh until our stomachs hurt, run around the yards of our home in Cape Town like we had no care in the world. Those were the golden days.

But then, one day, I was taken back to Cradock by my grandmother and mother. It was around the time the child social grant system started. That goodbye still aches in my chest. I was heartbroken. I didn’t speak isiXhosa then — I only knew English. When I got to Kude Kwalapha Primary School also known as KK in Cradock, everything was different. IsiXhosa was the home language, and I struggled. I had to repeat a grade just so I could build a foundation. That wasn’t easy for a child. I missed Cape Town deeply. But most of all, I missed my twin, Hacjivah.

Then came the December holidays — the highlight of my year. I would wait with burning hope to see my Aunt’s old red Fox or her old grey Mercedes Benz parked in front of our gate in Rusoord. The moment I saw it, I would sprint to the gate, tears of joy brimming, and hug my cousin brother and aunt like I hadn’t seen them in years.

But every January, when they had to go back to Cape Town, I would fall apart quietly. I’d cry alone, trying not to show it.

Full story: link in Bio ☝🏼❤

Chapter: The Boy Who Still StandsFrom the memoir of Lukhanyo KweneneWhen I think back to the boy I once was — the young ...
03/06/2025

Chapter: The Boy Who Still Stands

From the memoir of Lukhanyo Kwenene

When I think back to the boy I once was — the young Lukhanyo Kwenene,uBobo — I see a child who knew God before he fully knew himself. While other kids my age were running through the streets, laughing and free, I was on my knees, whispering prayers in the silence. God was my first love, my first safety. He was the one I cried to when the world became too much. I didn't just believe in Him. I depended on Him.

I had to.

My childhood wasn’t wrapped in innocence. It was marked with deep emotional wounds and silent suffering. I faced disappointment early — from family, from people who were supposed to protect me, and from the harsh world outside. But the heaviest parts weren’t always what people saw. They were what I carried in my chest. The confusion, the fear, the aching need to be accepted for who I was.

Then came the pain I still struggle to speak about.

Because of my sexuality — something I didn’t choose, something that simply was — I became a target. Not for teasing. Not for mockery. For abuse. I was sexually violated. I was stripped not just of control over my body, but of the safety I thought I had, the innocence I thought was mine to keep. I was made to feel like my existence was shameful. Like I deserved what happened to me.

But even in that darkness, even when my voice was buried under fear and silence, I still turned to God. I still believed that He hadn’t left me. That somehow, if I kept walking — even if I was crawling — I’d find healing. I had breakdowns. Many. Quiet ones. Ones that no one noticed. I’d fall apart and then wipe my tears before leaving my room. I learned to smile when I was hurting, to nod when I wanted to scream.

But I never stopped standing.

Every day I got up was a choice to live. A choice to keep going. I wasn’t strong because I wanted to be. I was strong because I had to be. I survived things that could’ve destroyed me. Things that do destroy people.

But I’m still here.

I’m still standing.

And I’m still walking with God.

Happy Pride Month! 🏳️‍🌈As we celebrate Pride, I’m reflecting on my own journey as a proud gay Xhosa man in South Africa....
01/06/2025

Happy Pride Month! 🏳️‍🌈

As we celebrate Pride, I’m reflecting on my own journey as a proud gay Xhosa man in South Africa.

There was a time when being called names like moffie or stabane felt like a punishment. Those words were meant to shame me, to make me feel small, but I turned them into fuel. I carried that pain, but I didn’t carry it alone. I walked that road with God by my side. Even when others tried to dim my light, His love reminded me that I was never a mistake.

I went to the mountain for initiation, embraced my culture, and came back stronger, fully myself. Being gay didn’t take away from my manhood. It didn’t strip me of my Xhosa identity. Instead, it taught me that you can be both: deeply rooted in tradition and proudly true to who you are. And I was met with respect, proof that authenticity can coexist with culture when there is understanding and love.

Today, I stand tall, surrounded by family and friends who embrace me for all that I am. Their support has been a lifeline, a daily reminder that love is louder than hate.

To every LGBTQIA+ person out there, especially those still hiding, still hurting, I see you. I honour your bravery. And I want you to know this: you are not alone. You are loved. You are chosen. You are powerful beyond measure.

This Pride Month, I celebrate the battles I’ve won, the tears I’ve shed, the prayers I’ve whispered, and the joy of living freely and truthfully.

Here’s to living proudly, loving boldly, and walking forward with faith and fire.
🌈❤️✨🇿🇦

A Tribute to uMama Nyameka Goniwe and the Goniwe FamilyToday, I want to pay tribute to Mrs. Nyameka Goniwe, a woman who ...
27/05/2025

A Tribute to uMama Nyameka Goniwe and the Goniwe Family

Today, I want to pay tribute to Mrs. Nyameka Goniwe, a woman who lived with grace, love, and strength. Beyond being the wife of Matthew Goniwe, one of the Cradock Four, she was a tireless advocate for justice and education. She carried the torch of her late husband's legacy with dignity, and she nurtured her family and community with kindness and warmth.

I also remember Mr. Alex “Chief” Goniwe, who led the Goniwe household in Qhina Street, Lingelihle. He was a man of integrity, generosity, and love — a true father figure in my life.

My connection with the Goniwe family goes back to my childhood, when my mother, uNomonde Betty Kwenene, worked as a domestic worker for them. After school, my siblings and I would wait at their house, not just as visitors, but as part of the family. We celebrated, grieved, and grew together. Mama Nyameka treated me like one of her own, offering her bedroom when I stayed over and teaching us the values of respect and kindness.

I remember the 2 PM family lunch — a meal that I rarely missed. Even when I was late, they always kept my plate warm in the microwave. Those moments of kindness shaped my childhood.

Mr. Alex "Chief" Goniwe gave me a black vest, which I still wear to this day, as a symbol of love and mentorship.

Then my mother stopped working in the big family house and started to work for Matthew Goniwe’s niece, Mrs. Kholiswa Rasimeni, a teacher by profession. She and her husband, Mr. Vuyani Rasimeni (the son of uTat’uHotete Rasimeni), lived in the North East suburbs of Cradock, and I would go there every day to help my mother with her work. It was there I experienced the joy of watching DSTV for the first time, and I felt like a true member of the family. I could change the channels whenever I felt like it, and they loved me dearly.

Every Christmas, Mrs. Rasimeni would take me along to the Goniwe’s main house to celebrate, whether it was for holidays, funerals, or special events. I had such a beautiful relationship with the entire family. Most people in Cradock thought I was part of the Goniwe family because I was always with them, even during leisure outings.

When

Throwback to my teenage years in Russord, Cradock.We lived in a six-room house that held more than just walls —it held c...
25/05/2025

Throwback to my teenage years in Russord, Cradock.

We lived in a six-room house that held more than just walls —
it held cousins, siblings, noise, laughter, and song.
Our garden was always blooming,
thanks to the loving hands of my late grandmother, Misiwe Jane Dayimani —
a proud domestic worker who served at Mountain Zebra National Park
and many homes in Cradock town.

She planted flowers, fruit, vegetables —
and in us, she planted resilience, love, and a deep joy for singing.
The house was always full —
of different characters, of stories, of life.
And when we were all together,
we sang. Always.

❤️🌻

Last night was something truly special.Ncebakazi Msomi’s live recording for her new album “The 37th Psalm” was an unforg...
24/05/2025

Last night was something truly special.

Ncebakazi Msomi’s live recording for her new album “The 37th Psalm” was an unforgettable experience. The presence of God filled the room — every note, every lyric, every moment carried such power and anointing.

I genuinely felt the move of the Lord, and it reminded me how He continues to use His vessels in mighty ways. Mom Ncebakazi, your gift is a blessing, and I pray nothing but prosperity over your life and career.

May God continue to use you and take you from strength to strength. 🙏🏽✨

Happy Mother’s Day to the most amazing women in my life. Your love has been my guiding light, your strength has been my ...
11/05/2025

Happy Mother’s Day to the most amazing women in my life. Your love has been my guiding light, your strength has been my foundation, and your warmth has been the heart of my home. I am endlessly grateful for every sacrifices you’ve made for me, every lesson you’ve taught me, and every hug you’ve given me. I love you more than words can express.

HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY ZIMBOKODO !!!!

I dedicate this day to my late Grandmother Mrs Misiwe Jane Dayimani !!! 🌹😍❤

Happy Wednesday!!! 😄An authorised long term insurance representative  for  , working under supervision in term of the FA...
16/04/2025

Happy Wednesday!!! 😄

An authorised long term insurance representative for , working under supervision in term of the FAIS Act.

Hey Besties!! 😄I have shared my Cradle Moon Game Lodge experience on PlugPlug ! I create all my travel bucket list using...
26/02/2025

Hey Besties!! 😄

I have shared my Cradle Moon Game Lodge experience on PlugPlug !

I create all my travel bucket list using . You can also use this easily accessible platform to book your holiday or weekend away trips.

Find your travel inspiration on PlugPlug by clicking the link on bio 😄





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