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About Polokwane

Now, lemme tell ya, it’s not all giggles. Some girls got stories that’d gut ya—ran from worse than me, y’know? Heard this one tale, chick fled a warzone, ended up here. Broke my cold little heart, and I don’t break easy. “Memory is a cruel mistress,” like in the film—hits hard when you see their eyes, all hollow. Still, I play it cool, toss her a wink, “You’re tougher than Thor’s skull.” She smirked—win for me.

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I know, I know, I’m yappin’ a lot. But seriously, this city even when its streets are full of potholes and random graffiti, has soul. You might see folks mutter in corners, blurting out vague dreams, mixing business with pleasure. It’s chaotic and exuberant, messy and beautiful. I’m honestly blown away sometimes, filled with so many feels—try to accept it all.

Karoo Stories: Narratives from Gariep and Van der Kloof dams