Noni

I Lived with Fibroids Without Knowing: My Journey to Diagnosis, Surgery, and Healing

I celebrated, I was filled with joy and excitement, unaware that this milestone would soon lead me into a very different kind of journey, one that would have me sitting across from doctors hearing things about my body that made me feel unfamiliar with myself in ways I never expected. So, this experience? It completely caught me off guard.

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Stokvel

So, you are in your 30s with one income but want a million things, you are also a firstborn daughter (in every sense possible, not that there is another way really), IN THIS ECONOMY??? Yes, that’s me. You know how we always say that our parents did so much with very little, and we always wonder how they managed? Well, I took it a step further and actually asked them, HOW? The answer was SAVINGS! Sounds obvious and simple, right? especially for someone who comes from a family of women who were (and still are) involved in every type of stokvel you can think of. Growing up, my mom and aunts were involved in what they called “inhlangano” (a Swati term meaning “meeting”). These gatherings usually took place on the last Saturday of every month. They would meet, contribute money, which would be divided equally at the end of the year. They also lent money out during the year, which had to be paid back with interest before  December.  That was just one type of inhlangano. There was another type focused on groceries (others were for a cow, chickens or even cool drink and beer stokvels). Instead of receiving money at the end of the year, members would buy groceries in bulk and share them equally. My Dad, on the other hand, was involved in what you call a rotational stokvel at work. Each month, one member would receive the pooled money, and they would decide what to spend it on. So you see, I am not new to the culture of savings, but had actually never considered doing it for luxury items like a designer handbag I liked, an expensive pair of shoes or even my dream holiday. For me, it always came down to whether I could afford to pay for something in one go or not (crazy right?). That changed in 2020, during Covid.  Since then, I have become my parents in many ways. I am now involved in multiple stokvels, from a grocery stokvel with my friends  (which means I don’t have to worry about things like cleaning detergents, cooking oil, spices and other pantry items throughout the year), to others that help me plan better financially. This has also freed up my money as my monthly grocery shopping is now mostly limited to meat, fruits and vegetables.  Now let’s get into the real chat about what a stokvel is in our times, or the different ways in which we can stretch our salaries to afford the things and the kind of happiness that only money can buy. A stokvel is simply defined as a savings club – a popular and communal way for people to save money together for a common goal, a practise that is not unique to  South Africa but is prevalent in many low-income communities across developing countries. Stokvels can be classified into two types: (i) Rotating stokvels , whereby members contribute a set amount each month, and one member receives a cycle of the payout based on a predetermined roster. (ii) End-of-the-year (and sometimes beginning of the year stokvels too)  stokvels – whereby contributions are made throughout the year, and the payouts are distributed in early December for Christmas spending or beginning of the year to help members cover back-to-school expenses (we all know how tough things can get in Januworry). Today, stokvels are versatile and tailored to the financial goals of each group. Some stokvels that exists include (i) Burial societies – where members contribute to support each other to cover funeral expenses, the support from the stokvel can vary from  things like providing groceries, transport or money depending on what is agreed upon (ii) Savings/Investment clubs – each member contributes money in one account then at the end of the year, the money (and interest) is shared between the members, members can use the money for whatever they want, it could be a new designer bag, new phone or even a holiday or in the case of investment stokvels the funds could be reinvested or used to fund big projects that require large sums of money.   Right now, South Africa is dealing with a major fuel hike, petrol is up by R3,27/litre and diesel by R6,19/litre, this will definitely add pressure on already stretched budgets. This might be the time to  switch our daily routine a bit, consider lift clubs with friends or colleagues, sharing school runs, using public transport where you can, or even just planning your trips smarter so you’re not driving back and forth. It’s not about big sacrifices, just small, practical changes that can help you keep a little more cash in your pocket while still getting through your daily routine. I hope this post serves as a gently reminder to pause and take a closer look at your bank statement, and have honest conversations about your money. It’s really about being intentional with what you have, making small but smart adjustments along the way, and finding ways to stay financially steady. Here’s to being more mindful with our budgets and seeing all of us safely through to the end of 2026.

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34

30/03, I turned thirty-four.   That’s right bafazi. I am officially in my Mid-30s, and I am so excited. I’ve always loved new beginnings, new chapters, fresh starts, and especially birthdays. There is just something about being given another year to grow, to evolve, to begin again. Now that I think about it though, my late 20s were shaped by a quiet, lingering fear. Turning 30 didn’t feel guaranteed for me. My mom never made it to 30, and neither did her mom. That reality nested in my belly; I went on living each day but nervously waiting for my “last day”.  And because of that, there were dreams I dared not to dream, desires I didn’t fully allow myself to hold, just in case my time here was shorter than I had hoped. Looking back now, I wish I had allowed myself to live more freely, to embrace life in its fullness without that weight and the constant need to play it safe . You know,  I wish I had travelled more, seen the world beyond what was familiar, and allowed myself to experience life more fully instead of staying where things felt predictable. I often think about how I could have embraced the uncertainty of the quarantine days by becoming a digital nomad, working from new places, adapting, and discovering parts of myself I never gave a chance to emerge. Also giving my entrepreneurial side a chance by taking business risks too (beyond selling Avon and Justin at work), instead of waiting for the “perfect” moment that never really came. I have learned that fear doesn’t always show up loudly, it can be subtle, restrictive, and deeply limiting in ways you don’t even notice at the time. What I know now is this, if there’s anything we owe ourselves, it’s to not allow fear to rule us. You can be nervous, yes, that’s normal. You can be uncertain, that’s part of life too, but never, and I mean EVER allow fear to be the thing that decides how you live your life. That’s the greatest thief. It steals time, joy, possibility, and presence. The bible warns us to fear not, that’s  an everyday instruction from God. So here I am, in my mid-30s, choosing to live a little braver, dream a little bigger, and to go all the way and give life my best shot. Hold on… WHAT DO YOU MEAN I AM 34???? It sounds like a serious age.  I started 34 with a 5km run. Year 33 gave birth to a runner, yes, I AM A RUNNER.  Somewhere between catching my breath and counting my pace, I was thinking that perhaps the confusion on whether or not I am a “real” adult is because I never really had a blue print of the type of adult I have become. That is a gap I didn’t realise until I reflected. Growing up,  the 34-year-old women I was exposed to looked very different. They were running households, raising children, holding everything together in ways that felt so defined and structured. There was a clear picture of what that stage of life was supposed to look like and somehow, 34 year old me looks nothing like what I saw growing up. 34 year old me is dreaming about European summers, chasing a sub-60, and figuring out my 30s as I go. This is not a complaint by the way, I am actually okay with that. I do wish I had seen more women choose different paths growing up. Daring to start that bakery, get that degree, take the overseas trip or simply live in the everyday bliss of pleasure. And today feels like I live my everyday for each of those women who wished to be what I now wake up to be. Modimo re a go leboga for real!   33, what a year my babe.  If I could describe it in one word, it would be REBIRTH. The year I finally returned to the young girl that was not afraid to dream, care free and fearless. There was something so easy about the year, light, even the lows felt short and almost gentle. I started the year with the news that I had finally completed my masters degree after years of fighting for my life. In a month, I would learn that I would be going on my first international trip to Greece…. wait for it….. IN SUMMER….. and this gave birth to my Eurosummer dreams.  From there, it felt like every month carried something new, so many firsts. I ran my first 10km race in April. Life felt exciting again, like I was finally present, and taking each day and month as it came. Easy, soft and so joyful. Also, life would not be life if it didn’t find a way to balance things out. In between all that joy, there were losses too. I remember being at my absolute happiest, and telling my friends something I had just realised, that there are actually levels to happiness. When I was Greece, I experienced a kind of joy I had never felt before, it was like I had unlocked a new level of happiness. On the last day of my trip, the day I was meant to come home, I woke up still wrapped in that feeling. The kind of joy that lives inside you and around you, like it’s gently watching over you, ready to refill you the moment you feel it fading. I found out a couple of hours later that in fact it was not there to refill me, it was preparing to leave me.  I lost my passport mid transit, the passport was in a small bag that also had my bank cards and my cell phone that had my digital cards. I cried until my face my swollen, I felt everything at once, sadness, anger, disappointment and even a deep sense of hopelessness. I was crashing out okay!! The girl I

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trusting god again

Trusting God Again

2025 is almost up, the year has come to an end; yet, you still have items on your vision board that were not realised. For some of us, faith seems bleak, hope may be lost and the will to push forward almost dead… Oh but my love, 2026 can get better. A shift is possible for you, and I would like to show you how. So, grab a cup of coffee; you can do water, coffee just sounds more fancy, lol, and let us playback the year to make sure we’re ready for the next.

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2025 wrapped

2025 Wrapped

It’s the end of the year and I started a blog. Pheew… This sure was not on the cards, or so I thought. It seemed so random but a chat with a friend of mine reminded me that it has been a long time coming. I did not know what it would look like, but this is it. Eureka I guess!

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