A collection of stories by South Africans
A collection of stories by South Africans
Find all archived stories and new ones at https://andreamidsentence.substack.com/
As a South African, how many koeksisters have you eaten in your lifetime? Tons, right? And if you’re not South African, well, it’s not your fault and you can make up for it by consuming titanic amounts of our favourite treat (and supporting the Springboks).
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It was a school day. We were at Stanger High, my dad (Mr Aitchison) was the principal and our English teacher was late for class.
We built a guillotine. And thus was born “the guillotine party” in celebration of the French Revolution. Vive la France, Vive la liberté. But as Dickens said, it was the best and worst of times…Madame had her own Reign of Terror in sunny South Africa.
We were visiting my grandpa Ray at his plot in Ashburton, Natal. And it was raining worms—thousands. No, millions. Look down and a worm could drop on your head, look up and you’d burst a bunch underfoot. I’m from Joburg, the suburbs—we have parktown prawns but mopane rain…jislaaik.
There it was. Delicious, spongy, oozy, drippy, squidgy Malva Pudding. And then it was gone. Obliterated. Not by an army of South Africans “after the braai” but by one wily 20-year-old.
It was to the backdrop of dust and fynbos that I was served my first vetkoek for breakfast (by a regte egte tannie nogal).
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Many years, five children and a new continent later – staring out into the garden of my North London rental and wondering about the friends of my youth – I thought…chocolate Marie Biscuit fudge, and attacked aunty Google with shameless desperation.
She arrived with a smile on her face, hips for Africa and the biggest, most extraordinary, summer hat on her head. My mom knew straight away. This was the lady.
Mom grips my arm and looks up at me, saying in a quiet shriek (it’s possible—trust me), “Love, I can’t see out of my right lens. My eye! I must be going blind!”
I knew immediately when they had spotted us; the Cujos went berserk. I froze. And tried to think past the I-am-going-to-eat-your-heart-out-if-you-so-much-as-breathe noises that were emanating from the barking banshees above me to the right.