I remember the smiles on my cousins’ faces on our way to Mpumalanga.
I remember the feeling of being at home and content when uncles played music and sang for me.
I remember the relief of going to the beach and just screaming, letting all my frustrations out, and hearing the waves crashing on the shore reminding me that I am never alone.
I remember playing with a trolley that my friends stole and we pretended to be in a taxi. I was in trouble with my mom when I came home injured after she told me not to play ngoba ngizolimala.
I remember the jam sessions with my dad in the morning on our way to school.
I remember the first time my little sister came home, I knew that she would annoy me for the rest of my life and yet I’d love her to death.
I remember the times we used to play ushumpu on the road, and when the first street light came on we knew it was time to go home.
I remember feeling refreshed from taking the first sip of an ice-cold beverage on a scorching hot day.