LETTER FROM Serowe

My two brothers and I went to boarding school in Pietersburg (now Polokwane), a good 350km and a border crossing away. We only went home once every three months, along with a gaggle of cousins.

Being away for so long, things were bound to change, and it was easy to feel adrift when I returned. To counteract this, I made mental lists of things that had stayed the same: the shop fronts we passed, the (tuck shops)… These things rooted me to a sense of home.