Rage rooms, Hope Markets, a Pretoria auntie who refuses to quit on her community.
In Pretoria’s Moot, Lydia Pieterse has built a business where breaking things is not only allowed but encouraged – and where every shattered plate or smashed TV carries the possibility of healing.
At 39, she has turned her long‑held vision into The Wack Shack, a rage room that doubles as a sanctuary for children, survivors and anyone weighed down by life’s pressures.
What began as a bold leap after her daughter matriculated has grown into a mission: to wack the good back into people, to mix destruction with compassion, and to prove that sometimes the path to restoration runs through chaos.
The Wack Shack’s backstory
Her career path had been varied – marketing, life coaching, corporate work – but none of those roles felt like her true calling. “I am 100% living my calling,” she says.
“Sixteen years ago, I had a vision about owning a rage room. During my life coaching course, I imagined putting people in rooms where they could throw plates, punch walls or smash whatever they needed to.”
That vision crystallised after tragedy struck. The suicide of a Wonderboom Hoërskool pupil shook the community and sparked Pieterse’s determination to act.
She bought Wendy houses, filled them with broken items – washing machines, laptops, fans, bottles – and opened them up for clients to destroy.
Thus, The Wack Shack was born. For Pieterse, the rage room is more than a novelty. It is a sanctuary.
“Children struggle to talk to their parents, and at school there’s so much pressure to excel. I realised they needed a place to let go without judgment. That’s why I decided: screw that, I’ll be the lekker auntie, the friend they can turn to.”
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The rage room’s diverse clientele
Her clientele reflects the diversity of pain and joy in the community. Groups arrive for fun, women come to reclaim power after surviving gang rape and children seek relief from bullying.
“I have a passion to help children,” she says. “Even as a child, I used to give away my clothes to those less fortunate. I’d get into trouble for it, but I couldn’t stop.”
Opening her business has been a blessing. Pieterse meets people from all walks of life, each carrying their own burdens. In June, she saw a local animal shelter pleading for food donations.
She cried for two days, then launched the Hope Market fundraiser, which has since become a monthly event.
Each month, she hosts charities at her property, raising funds or collecting donations for organisations like Wollies, Moeggesukkel and Volunteer Emergency Services.
The entrepreneurial journey has not been easy. At times, Pieterse has considered returning to a nine-to-five job. Yet, each time, she resists. “I am not ready to give up yet,” she insists.
Charity runs in the family
Her drive is rooted in family tradition. Caring for the less fortunate runs in her blood.
She recalls her daughter’s 13th birthday: instead of a party, the girl asked to feed 75 homeless people.
Together, they cooked curry and rice, packed containers with motivational messages and baked a massive colourful cake to share.
‘Each act of smashing carries meaning’
Arriving at The Wack Shack is an experience in itself. Clients are equipped with safety glasses, jackets, helmets, and baseball bats before entering the wooden rooms filled with items to smash.
The atmosphere is charged, but the purpose is healing. “Sometimes I see someone leave the rage room and just need a minute to process. Others say it’s amazing and ask to go again.
It differs from person to person,” Pieterse says. She has built a support network around the venture, with access to youth coaches and psychologists for those who need extra help.
“The idea was intended for children,” she says. “I’ve had clients who wanted to break beer bottles because they grew up with alcoholic parents. Each act of smashing carries meaning.”
Reclaiming power through smashing
One story touched her deeply. A rape survivor entered the rage room and began shouting and hitting nonstop.
Pieterse recalls: “It gave me tears and goosebumps. When she came out, she was shaking and after 15 minutes she wanted to go again. I repacked the room for her because I wanted her to heal.”
For Pieterse, every bang and crash is more than noise – it is therapy. “I can hear the healing happen. I hear the screams, the reclaiming of power,” she says.
Of course, there are lighter moments too. Clients debate the coolest items to smash. For Pieterse, televisions top the list because they explode spectacularly.
Microwaves, on the other hand, are notoriously stubborn. “Smashing a microwave is difficult; it apparently fights back,” she laughs.
Through destruction, Pieterse has built something profoundly constructive. A space where pain is released, joy is rediscovered and charity is woven into business.
The Wack Shack is not just about breaking objects – it is about breaking cycles of silence, isolation and despair.
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