It is 5.41pm on Saturday, December 14 2024, and I’ve just returned home from the final day of the four-day SACP special national congress in Boksburg, east of Johannesburg, when my phone rings. It is my sister, Loyiso, screaming: “Luyolo, ndiyafa! [I am dying!]”

My wife is about to serve supper, and I am recounting my day with the communists. Loyiso’s words jolt me, and soon we were on loudspeaker, trying to locate her. She mentions she is near Halfway House Primary in Midrand, on her way to Mall of Africa. We deduce she is on the N1S, and rush out...

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