My Feet Are Yearning

I know who’ll be there when I step on that roof on top of the canteen at Arts On Main. Popularly it’s known as the rooftop. Thabo the DJ and usually Delicia, Dineo, Tercia, and Melissa are there early. Ryan too, and that guy my friend in the jacket. 


As the Highveld sun sets and the Afro beats turn up, more familiar, friendly faces appear.

I know I’m gonna get at least two or three quality dances from each of these ladies. This experience is just over two years old, and it does not get tired.

Some ladies have left our city and won’t be back for a year or more, and some return every other month, or six. The void is fleeting as there is another and another that joins this unplanned but constant gathering. The circle of dance is never ending.

But I miss those that I sincerely connected with, it took a month of Sunday’s to build some of these relationships.

Jacky, Tammy and Zeena make cameo appearances. Ace and Stamena are abroad about a year now, Nadia left for Korea yesterday and Simone will be off to Europe, and out of my life too.


Ohk that’s a bit dramatic but let me indulge this brief melancholy.

I wasn’t looking for friends when I joined Baila Afrika or when I went to Come Salsa parties, but here I am with more than a dozen ladies and gents who bring an exclusive, much-wanted light to my life. I’ve lived.


Conversation is usually centred around dancing, the music, the people, parties, politics, what men want, what women don’t want, everything. It’s living your best life, but not just on social media.

Having these people around is simply awesome, some challenge me, most make me smile, some compliment me, others inspire. The expectation is regularly met, but this that they leave…

Like a zephyr, I know they will return and we shall dance again. My feet are yearning.







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