The Corner Flag: A stranger's words touched my embattled soul
My battle with alcohol reminds me of the turmoil that often surrounds the Soweto Marathon.
The stretch between Benoni High School and Hoërskool Hans Moore in Dalrymple Street can feel lonely.
A dog may bark in the distance. A bird may sing from a nearby tree. Yet neither quite shakes the sense of isolation that hangs over that piece of road.
On May 30, I found myself walking this stretch carrying a burden. I had just watched our national age-group women’s baseball teams continue their preparations for the Baseball For All tournament in the United States. Usually, sports lift my spirits. On that day, my mind was elsewhere.
As I approached Hans Moore, a young man walking towards me stopped and said, “Brother, Jesus loves you.”
Caught off guard, I mumbled a response: “The Son of Man loves you too.”
The exchange lasted only seconds, but his words lifted a weight from my shoulders.
I do not know what he saw in me, if anything at all. But that simple act of kindness reminded me that, despite all the struggles around us, we are surrounded by good people.
It also forced me to reflect on my own journey.
I am an alcoholic.
My battle with alcohol reminds me of the turmoil that often surrounds the Soweto Marathon. One year, everything runs smoothly. Next, politics and infighting threaten to tear the event apart. Addiction feels much the same. There are periods of stability, followed by chaos when you least expect it.
I had my first drink in December 2007. It was harmless enough at the time. Even through university, I managed to keep things under control.
That changed when I started working in 2013.
Also Read: The Corner Flag: Memory, neglect and the games politicians play
For the first time, I had what I considered decent money, and I embraced the drinking culture that often accompanies life in the newsroom. What started as social drinking slowly became something else.
Things worsened after the company I worked for was liquidated in 2019. Then came the Covid-19 lockdown.
The first major disaster came in October 2021 when I rolled my car.
Almost three years later, my relationship with alcohol contributed to the collapse of my young family.
For a long time, I blamed everyone except myself.
Then reality arrived, little by little, until I finally admitted I had a problem.
I stopped drinking in April 2024 but relapsed after 14 months sober.
Recovery is not a straight line. It is a lonely road.
Over the years, I have reported on athletes whose careers were destroyed by addiction. From the outside, it seemed simple: just stop. Living through it taught me otherwise.
One thing has helped keep me grounded.
Running.
I played football most of my life before drifting away from the game. I took up running in 2014 to stay fit, and by 2024, it had become a consistent part of my life.
My goal is to one day run the Comrades Marathon. To get there, however, I will need the same thing recovery demands every day – discipline.
The discipline to keep showing up. The discipline to keep moving forward.
What that young man did for me on that Saturday afternoon in Northmead may have seemed insignificant to him.
To me, it meant everything.
He reminded me that hope can arrive in the simplest form – a few kind words from a stranger.
And in a world often dominated by conflict, hardship and division, that reminder was a gift.
* June is globally recognised as Men’s Mental Health Awareness Month. It is a vital period dedicated to breaking the stigma around emotional vulnerability, encouraging early detection of mental health issues and dismantling the “tough it out” mentality. The SA Depression and Anxiety Group has various support groups and other resources for those seeking help. Go to sadag.org for more information.
