Posts

When Transit becomes a border

 We were not trying to run away from home or, as people might say, japa . We simply wanted a family holiday in Cyprus, but we made one huge mistake. We planned to enter using our American visas, as it had been accepted before. What we didn't know was that the rule had changed. We now needed Cypriot visas. What was meant to be a short stopover quietly turned into exclusion. We slept on airport benches for three days and survived on chicken nuggets because airport hotels would have left us broke. In a place where we couldn't speak the language, Google Translate became our most-used app. We were stranded by a system that did not recognise us as people, only as documents. Eventually, we got the visas and made it through, but the experience taught me that immigration is not only about permanent relocation. It is also about moments of temporary displacement and how easily dignity can be suspended by policies and paperwork. It was another reminder that movement is not just about where...

Every Bead Holds a Story

  There are some children who grow up knowing exactly where home is. I wasn't one of them. My name is Nomhlekazi Valentine Dube , and for much of my childhood, home was something that kept changing. I moved between families, carrying my belongings from one place to another, never knowing what it felt like to grow up with both of my parents under the same roof. Like many children, I longed for the simple things—a mother's embrace, a father's guidance, the certainty that someone would always be there. That certainty never came. There were days when loneliness felt louder than hope. School became one of the few places where life felt steady, but even there I struggled. I was grateful for the opportunity to learn, yet I didn't achieve the results I had dreamed of. For a while, it felt as though the future I imagined was slipping further away. Then I made a decision that would quietly change my life. If I couldn't change where I had come from, I could decide what I would...