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A Brief Commentary On Street Food

I stood still, and refused to move, as my travel companions insisted on eating at the nearest MacDonald’s. At the time, I wasn’t able to articulate, or provide a minimally substantive argument as to why we should settle for the street dumplings, let alone that couple’s generous offer of local beer.

Their argument was valid.

We know MacDonald’s. We know what it tastes like. We know how it’s made.

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throughts in transit

Deconstructing Danger In Johannesburg’s CBD

in Politics by

Johannesburg – Central Business District (JHB-CBD) has been cursed with a bad reputation since the dawn of South Africa’s democracy, in 1994. Then, the  Gold capital  and a hub of African migration as well as rich Afro-centric imagination; Today, one of the  world’s most dangerous cities  to live and work in Africa. And of course, one wonders, what kind of human beings live there?

Reclaiming An Unequal Space

During the years of Apartheid, Johannesburg catered for the ambitions and dreams of those who came from all over the world for business. Its bustling streets smelt like perfumes, with sophisticated hotels and restaurants that awakened one’s hunger for sexual transactions in Fox and Marshall Street.

Today, you get a sense of an abandoned prosperity – as the city is not flourishing like it used to. We forget that these past flourishing moments came at the exclusion of Africans. Today, when Africans have taken ownership of the city — it is called  ‘dangerous’  and ‘ dirty’ . The exclusion of Africans from the urban composition of the city in the past has lead to present perceptions and generalizations of ‘danger’ in the city;

it appears that the presence of Africans in the city was never expected.

Does living in a space that was engineered for the ascension of Apartheid imply that one must conform to the ways of this space? There has been an increasing negative narrative – lambasting the reputation of the JHB-CBD – because it is not what it used to be. 

Poverty is visible in every corner of the city: you find  Amandla Muti Shop  trading a street from  Anglo American , or people begging their lives into mere existence, yet ignored.

It is irrefutable that in JHB-CBD, as an unequal space, there exists insecurities. We, as humans, reduce the value of a space as soon as it causes us discomfort. We easily disregard that other human beings are capable of regeneration. The previously excluded now have the opportunity to redefine their space and institute their ways of living in a manner that is inclusive and re-conciliatory.  

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Re-Imagining The Beach In Maputo, A Photo Essay

in Photography by

You may have stumbled upon the stereotype of Africans not being able to swim. That is, of course, a brisk generalization. Though almost unfortunately true.

Let us, for a moment, deconstruct the ‘beach’. Generally, one thinks of it as a center for recreation purposes. Tourists come with their exaggerated luggage and water gimmicks that leave us sceptical. They play with the waves, take a dive and resurface with glory and might from a well-spent day at the latest sea spot.

 The us/them binary is distinct .

While they play with the waves, we fish.

While they draw in the sand, we cook.

The way in which we position ourselves in this beach-like space is entirely different, and thus entirely emblematic to the dynamics of the Maputo-born citizen.

To understand what we do when we go to the beach, we must dedicate some time to reflect on its own purpose. The integration of the sea into the city, or, perhaps, of the city into the sea, speaks volumes into our constant run-ins with nature in the urban space.

Shall we, then, go to the beach?

There is no shame in our lassez-faire state of affairs. We wake early, and fall asleep in the same breath, between the zig-zag of work and the radiating puffs from the sun.

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