20/06/2026
The wind in Barkly East always blew cold through Enkanini, ( informal settlement) but inside me, a quiet fire burned.
School was a battlefield of empty bellies and cruel whispers.
Because of my age, the teachers condoned me (ndinyuselwa) from grade to grade, while classmates laughed at me for not understanding English properly and struggling to read.
To them, the quiet guy from the poor background meant absolutely nothing.
But hunger could not starve my mind, and failure could not break my spirit.
On the long, freezing walks home, I clung to a secret dream: “One day, I will write a book. One day, I will make it.”
Fast forward to today. The cold hills of Enkanini have given way to the crashing waves of the West Coast.
I, Sanele Madubela am no longer the boy they laughed at; i am an author of my own destiny. Ink by ink, step by step, i have captured every tear, every skipped meal, and every triumph onto the page.
My book is nearly ready for the world.
I survived the dark so i could become a lighthouse for others, proving to every struggling child that your background cannot dim your light. 💡
You can still make it. Buza mna, ndimlo ndisa phusa ❤️
