Have you ever woken up feeling like there’s a train station in your head? I don’t know what the hell hit me yesterday. That nigga
must have hit me with bricks or something cos this is not a babalas headache. My head hurts, my back is black and blue from the
sjambok, I’ve got a black eye, WTF! Hope no one came into my room this morning and saw me like this.
But it’s not time to worry about how I look. I’ve got a problem with a cop that I need to deal with. So I slide my ass into the
kitchen and find Mom making lunch. “What the hell happened to you? Who were you fighting last night? Sipho o tla bolawa ke batho weitse!
I told you to stop drinking my child, it’s not good for you! Bona jaaka o ntse. Nna ke tlile go ja madi a gago a funeral policy ke
go bolelele.” Of course, what else do women do except tell me what do to!?
“Hee Sipho!” she says. “Jakes is in jail! He hit his wife last night, mara banna ba bangwe bone. How do you just do that? He’s
gonna get out of jail today, he’s a cop mos!” This woman makes a valid point! Time to jump ship, son!
“Yo, Greg, you still going to Jozi?”
“Packing up my shit as we speak right now, son!”
“Come pick me up in town at the hiking spot.”
Greg and I head off to Jozi in the Range! AWUUUUUU! It’s about to be a party ya’ll!
I love road trips. Especially the Jozi ones. We have a crew we hang out with in Jozi. They get up to the same shit we do, love girls
and blunts. I ain’t got money though. Re tla bona ko pele, kgale re dira dilo re sena lebotha, and Greg will get the drinks and
drugs tab anyways. He’s flashy like that.
We dip in and out of Rusty Dusty, through Xanadu Eco Estate to check on Greg’s brother Thebe. Thebe is ballin’ out of control. Speed boat and
a Ferrari parked outside! Greg gets a couple of grand from him and we dip out, past Lanseria, past Randburg, get into Sandton and
rent a suite at the Radisson Blu! We gettin wasted this weekend!
We call up the Jozi crew and get an itenerary going: house party in Centurion, Party it up in Cocoon night club later in the night, find mazothi in between our trips and go back to the spot! But first, let’s get our dealer to drop off some grams! Drugs are much better here in Jozi. Can you
It’s Sunday Morning and no one has slept a wink, and we still partying it up. There’s still 2 bottles of JW Platinum that we
haven’t opened yet… looks like Sunday will be the time to do it. We put together a plan that we should head to Midrand
Chesanyama. It’s the place to visit if you’re an out-of-towner. See all the local celebrities, hear the latest music and mack on some hot
I didn’t bring any clothes or even a toiletry bag. I think the drinking is getting out of my pores cos I smell like sweat now. The
Jozi crew is still hanging with us and we hit a convoy to Midrand, but a quick stop at the Shell garage so we can pour some gas.
At the Shell Garage in Midrand Greg says “yo Sipz…you need to get into the other car homie, we’ve got girls we need to pick up
first”. The Jozi crew’s car is right behind us so I get out of the car and walk to the other car. And all of a sudden both cars
leave while I’m trying to change cars. “Yo Greg, Yo Dumi… YO, DON’T LEAVE ME BEHIND!” I scream. I start running after the cars as
they speed off and disappear into traffic. I can’t believe these guys just did a switcharoo on me!
This is a trick I perfected and showed to Greg when we want to ditch girls that don’t wanna bang. We would tell the girls to
switch cars and then when they’re on their way to the other car we lock the doors and drive off in both cars, leaving them behind
wherever it is they are! We’ve left girls at Macufe, at parties, 60’s and at house parties all over Maftown. They hated us for
A dear friend of mine passed away last year. He committed suicide. Slashed his wrists. I used to joke and tell him that if anyone
is to kill themselves they should remember that if they slash they’re wrists “it’s down the road and not accross the street”. That
means that you shouldn’t cut going across your wrists “across the street”, but “it’s down the road” which means you cut down the
arm. This opens up your veins and you bleed quicker. Macabre statement, I know, but it was a intended as a joke.
I don’t know why I’m thinking about suicide, maybe it’s because I feel like my life is heading in the worst direction. This is one of my worst
moments in my life. I have absolutely no money, I’m in the middle of Jozi without a plan to get back home. I’ve got a situation
waiting for me at home with the neighbour. Why do I do these things sometimes? Do I not think before I make these decisions? Is
this how I’m gonna be a hobo?
Wait, let me call up some of my homies and see if they can make a plan: “Stunt, where you at? Can you hook me up with some dough
mfethu I’ll pay you back as soon as I get back to Maftown.” “Dude, I’m so broke, I didn’t even drink this weekend.”
“Zaza my homie, hook me up with some dough, I promise I’ll pay you tomorrow.” “Dude, you still owe me from last month”
Man! I am fucked! My battery is about to die! Let me see if my uncle is at home “Malome Tshepo, le kae? Are you home? I’m stuck in
Midrand.” “Sipho what are you doing here? I’m just washing my car in Centurion, I’ll come pick you up when I’m done”
Damn, Uncle Tshepo saved me. I’ve not spoken to him in more than 2 years when he came to visit my Dad. Him and my Dad we’re not on
speaking terms but he came to see my Dad when he was diagnosed with cancer. I kept his number because he was supposed to organise
a job for me this side.
Malome Tshepo comes to pick me up at the garage with his daughter. This cousin of mine is freakin’ hot! Think Jessica Nkosi’s face and
Babalwa Mneno’s body and height. H-O-T-T! You need the extra T at the end just to emphasize the hotness!
She’s got hot friends, too. They all came with some rich niggas driving X5’s and shit at last year’s Maftown sixties. Married niggas nogal. I don’t know why being pretty is a commodity in Jozi. Girls believe in trading their pretty faces for favours. If you’re a pretty girl then you just don’t date anyone. The guy has to have money to date you. You won’t date a guy who takes a taxi to work. My cousin works, has a Marketing degree and works for a listed company in Sandton CBD. She makes good money, still stays at home since her dad is not married. She drives the latest Audi A3, she’s book and street smart, has good manners and can probably afford that nice looking Peruvian weave she’s got on. But she’s so self centred and image conscious! Every day is a D&G and Louis Vuitton fashion show!
“Hey cuz! Give me a hug!”
Damn, my pits are barking and here I am hugging people! “Hey Thato, how are you my cuz. Long time no see!”
“Malome Tshepo, how are you?” “Sipho, how are you my son?! It’s been a long time”
We head to his home in Centurion. I’m walking around making sure not to open up my arms too wide, else my pits are gonna kill someone.
Thato says she’ll drop me off in Sandton CBD. I’m hoping to catch Greg at the hotel Monday morning. I need a lift back to Maftown.
Hope she can hook me up with a few clips before I head home. Else I’m fucked for the week. “Thato, don’t you have something for
me? I’m really broke hey.” “Don’t worry cuz, I got you” says Thato as she reaches for her bag. Nice crisp stack of R200 notes.
I’ve never taken a taxi from Jozi to Maftown before. She gives me R 600 and drops me off at the Radisson before heading to work.
I bust into the hotel room and the first thing I see is Greg’s nasty crack. This motherfucker is still passed out. I’m gonna order myself some breakfast.
My phone is ringing… I’ll pass on answering this one… It’s mom. I get another call from my boss and my neighbour’s daughter.
I’ll pass on these ones, too. I’m not sure I want to hear what they have to say.
Greg and I finally get back to Mahikeng, lefatshe la bo rrarona.
Tomorrow is back to work, and I’ve got a lecture from my boss waiting. I know he’s got a few words he wants to have with me.
So, how was work? I hated every minute of it. Glad it’s over now, though. I’m gonna go home and sleep. I’m hoping I won’t get a
lecture from Moms, too! As i walk through the passage that leads to my street I hear someone call my name. “Sipho sani! O nyonyoba
mosadi waka!” “Ijoo! Bra Jakes!”
And then I see something silver coming out of his back. One turn and I was off running. Simon Magakwe wouldn’t have caught me if he was on his best day! I hear one shot, two shots, three! As I turn around the corner I feel like I walked into a puddle of water! Jakes shot me in the foot!