Insight-driven growth for business and lifestyle

In business, success isn’t just about ideas, capital, or strategy. It’s about people. And more specifically, about avoiding the wrong people.

I’ve seen firsthand how certain individuals can poison a workplace, corrode morale, and eventually bring the operation to its knees. It’s not theory — it’s experience. I once worked in a company where a director was secretly doing private deals on the side, effectively stealing from the business. Nobody knew until it was too late. Another time, a pathological bully made life miserable for everyone. At the time, bullying wasn’t something anyone could easily call out, let alone prove. The person got away with it — scot-free.

Today, things might be different, or so we like to believe. But from the workplace stories I still hear, bullies are alive and well. Some come disguised as managers — yelling, micromanaging, crushing team spirit. Others work behind the scenes, undermining you subtly. Let’s talk about those too.

We all know the type: the internal politician. These are not leaders. They’re manipulators. They curry favour with your team behind your back, bypass your authority, and subtly position themselves as more important than they are. I call this behaviour red-anting — slowly corroding the business from the inside, one undermining move at a time.

And it’s not just colleagues or employees you need to watch. Some customers can be just as toxic. The ones who demand everything for free, spread malicious gossip, or use their size to pressure you unfairly. One large, disgruntled client can do more damage to your brand than ten happy ones can undo.

A Working List: People to Steer Clear of in Your Business

Building on these experiences — and others I’ve seen across industries — here’s a list of people who are best kept out of your business, no matter how talented or charming they may appear at first.

1. Liars

People who twist the truth, hide the facts, or misrepresent reality will destroy trust — and trust is everything.

2. Cheats and Thieves

From taking company resources to claiming credit for others’ work, these individuals create an unstable foundation.

3. Bullies and Psychopaths

They thrive on control, manipulation, and fear. Their impact on team morale and mental health is profound and long-lasting.

4. Sycophants

Always agreeable, never honest. These individuals tell you what you want to hear, not what you need to hear. They’re bad for feedback loops and decision-making.

5. Weak Operators

This isn’t about introversion or humility — it’s about people who constantly avoid responsibility, dodge decisions, and hide when things go wrong.

6. Gossipers and Underminers

They spread rumors, fuel division, and tear down others to elevate themselves. A business full of whispers is a business going nowhere.

7. Politicians (in the worst sense)

Power-hungry, status-obsessed manipulators who work the room instead of the job. They often sabotage colleagues to secure their position.

8. Chronic Complainers

Problems, not solutions. Drama, not delivery. These individuals drain energy and divert focus.

9. Entitled Clients or Staff

Those who believe they’re owed more than they’ve earned will often become your biggest headache.

10. Change Resisters

They’re threatened by innovation. They block progress. And they’re often influential enough to delay much-needed transformation.

In Closing

This might all sound harsh, but business is a jungle. If you’ve been around long enough, you’ve seen the teeth and claws.

The truth is: toxic people cost money. They cost energy. They cost your peace of mind. The best thing you can do is develop the skill to spot them early — and keep them out.

Let your business be a place where ethical, accountable, and positive people can thrive. And when you spot a red ant? Don’t hesitate. Deal with it swiftly, or prepare for corrosion.

Too many small businesses fail. That’s not pessimism—it’s just the reality. Starting and running a small business is no walk in the park. It’s often mentally exhausting, backbreaking, and emotionally draining. Burnout is real, and many people quit long before they get close to traction.

And in a down market like this? It gets worse. Much worse.

Right now, the landscape is flooded with “opportunity seekers.” You know the type—always on the hunt for the next big thing. The latest biz op. The hot new hustle. The silver bullet that will finally set them free. They want to “jump in” and run with it, but more often than not, they’re running in circles.

Part of the problem is the myth. The one that whispers (or shouts) that starting a business is easy. Scroll through social media and you’ll see it everywhere: shiny reels, pushy posts, seductive DMs. “Start your own business today!” “No experience needed!” “Just sign up and start earning!”

Spoiler alert: most of these “opportunities” are cleverly disguised sales funnels. They’re not trying to help you build a business—they want to sell you something. A coaching program. A digital course. A starter pack. A dream that you fund with your own money.

The media’s not helping either. Business opportunity articles are as common as marijuana sellers on the main road in Kalk Bay. (If you’ve ever been asked, “Would you like something green?” you know what I mean.) For weed lovers, it’s a kind of paradise. For business-op junkies, the internet is their dealer.

But here’s the hard truth: constantly chasing the next opportunity is a kind of addiction. It feels like progress, but it’s really just motion without momentum. A hamster wheel disguised as a launchpad.

Let’s be clear—I’m not anti-business opportunity. Far from it. But I am anti-hopium. The stuff that keeps people dreaming instead of doing.

Real businesspeople live in the real world. They talk to actual customers. They do the math. They research. They plan. They understand that behind every product or service is a customer who has to want it—and more importantly, pay for it.

Here’s a better approach:

Once you’ve found an opportunity—however it came to you—give it your full attention. Make a solid go of it. If it shows promise, keep going. If it flops, call it. Learn your lessons. Then, and only then, look for the next one.

Don’t chase shiny things. Build something real.

I woke up thinking—again—about risks. Not the kind you see in action movies, but the ordinary, domestic, quietly dangerous kind.

The wind had howled through the night, and as dawn broke, I found myself wondering: Has a branch broken off? Is the roof intact? Did the damp get worse?

I live in a fairly damp area, so mould is a constant battle. Black mould, green mould, white mould—it’s a regular horror show. I spent the entire weekend scrubbing the strip ceiling, trying to reclaim my house from creeping mildew.

But it’s not just mould.

As I lie in bed, my mind races:

• Are the neighbours building over the property boundary again?

• Is that massive wooden fence even legal under the Building Act?

• Did someone try to break in during the night?

• Did I leave the stove on? Is the gas off?

• What if the geyser bursts while I’m out?

The mind is relentless. In fact, last night I dreamt I had to present a solution to the water crisis in KwaZulu-Natal. I was in a conference hall full of mildly interested bureaucrats, sweating over every word—until I woke up abruptly needing the loo.

But even outside of dreams, the risks in an average home can be enough to keep anyone up at night.

Just up the road, a neighbour had to hire a skip (at R800 a day!) after tons of sand poured into their home from the mountain above. The culprit? Recent mountain fires above Kalk Bay stripped the vegetation, leaving nothing to hold the earth in place. Now, every rainstorm brings with it a new landslide.

Last year, my kitchen filled with water from a nearby mountain stream. It took weeks to dry, and when I turned to my insurer, they refused to pay. Their reason? “Maintenance issue.” I had just moved in! How was I supposed to know that? The cottage is older than most of the residents on the street.

It’s not just water and weather, either.

So what are the main risks hiding inside your home?

Here’s a list worth mentally checking off—because every item could turn into a costly disaster if ignored:

1. Water Damage

Leaky pipes, dripping roofs, faulty gutters, or even overflowing sinks can do serious structural damage—and invite mould in.

2. Fire Hazards

Think lint buildup in dryers, unattended candles, overloaded plugs, and forgotten pots on the stove. Fires start quietly and end loudly.

3. Electrical Fires

Frayed cords, exposed wiring, and overloaded circuits are a silent risk many overlook until it’s too late.

4. Gas Hazards

Leaving the gas on, improper use of appliances, or poor ventilation can lead to fires, explosions, or carbon monoxide poisoning. (Yes, a CO detector is worth the investment.)

5. Break-ins and Theft

Unsecured doors, broken locks, no alarm system—it’s all an open invitation to burglars.

6. Injuries and Falls

Loose rugs, slippery floors, unguarded stairs. Even a well-placed extension cord can take you—or a guest—down.

7. Neglected Maintenance

That old geyser, those cracks in the wall, the dusty heater vent—ignoring them doesn’t make them go away. It just makes them expensive.

8. Poisoning

Household cleaners, medications left out, toxic fumes from paint or “air fresheners”—especially risky if there are kids or pets.

9. Liability Risks

If someone slips and falls on your property—even a guest—you could find yourself in legal hot water.

10. Random Weird Hazards

Falling TVs, unstable shelves, old lead-based paint, leaking fridges. The little things can still cause big problems.

Of course, let’s not forget the best thing to maintain at home: a sense of awesomeness. But awesomeness won’t pay for the clean-up when your ceiling collapses.

A Final Thought

This post isn’t meant to scare you (well, maybe just a bit). It’s a reminder. Whether you live in a freestanding house, a cottage, or a flat, it’s worth taking a moment to do a mental (or actual) walk-through of your space.

Ask yourself:

• What’s working?

• What’s wearing out?

• What’s being ignored?

Because the smallest oversight can turn into the biggest headache—and the most basic preparation can save you time, money, and stress down the line.

Have you experienced a strange or surprising household risk recently? Share it in the comments—I’d love to know I’m not the only one dreaming about water crises and structural collapse!

I’m sitting on a bench at Dalebrook, watching the sea. It’s a bright, sunny morning. The waves are rolling in, calm now after a cold, blustery night of strong southerly winds. What will the day bring?

I’ve just packed out my art materials for a session at the Kalk Bay Community Centre. Earlier, two artists were politely negotiating the best position for their easels to get a good view of the model. It’s a familiar, almost charmingly predictable scene from our morning life drawing sessions. A little to-and-fro, but always respectful. Artists quietly claiming their spots, each trying to see clearly while not blocking anyone else.

Down at the Dalebrook tidal pool, a few women are already braving the icy winter water for their morning swim. It must be good for circulation, I tell myself. An elderly man in pale blue swimming trunks steps gingerly along the wall of the pool. He stands still in the sunlight, rubbing his lower back and stretching upwards, the waves breaking behind him. It’s a small but striking scene of vitality—of life being lived.

It’s hard to believe that not too long ago, a winter swim in Cape Town was seen as madness. For decades, the pool would be empty during the colder months. Now we understand cold water can invigorate the body and even uplift the mind. That says something about how attitudes change—and how we adapt.

Driving past Retreat the other day, I noticed a poster for a local comedian. It read: Pension Killer. That line struck me. It could mean many things, but I couldn’t help thinking of the real spirit killers out there—those creeping, grinding forces that slowly poison a person’s retirement: rising food prices, outrageous electricity bills, transport costs that bite, airfares that climb higher than your bank balance can follow. Even a simple Uber to the airport can eat up a thousand rand without blinking.

And yet, in spite of it all, people still show up. They swim. They paint. They walk. They chat politely over easels. They find a way to smile.

Maybe the trick isn’t to ignore the spirit killers—but to outwit them. To meet them with something stubbornly joyful. A bracing swim. A sketch of a live model. A morning at the sea. A chat with a friend.

So yes, cut your cloth to suit your circumstances. But don’t let the spirit killers win. Not on a sunny morning like this. Not while the waves still roll in.

I remember, many years ago, going through a retrenchment.

One of the biggest issues was: how much cash do I have available to support my household expenses?

Losing my position was frightening.
But more frightening was this: how was I going to pay for everything?

In the end, I managed. I got things working again. I found a new position.

Recently, I was speaking to someone who had just been retrenched.
I didn’t directly ask her how much cash reserve she had.

Was it one month?
Was it three?

What we find difficult — I think almost all of us — is to plan for the future.

We carry on with our jobs, knowing deep down that things might go wrong. But we don’t do much about it.

The problem is, we don’t have a proper cash kitty. We just have whatever’s available in our bank account.

And it’s amazing how often that’s the case. Most people I speak to have very little cash reserve.

I think it’s because of the economy.
Monthly expenses chew up so much of our income that there’s very little left to save.

I sympathise with everyone who doesn’t have cash reserves. It’s not easy.

You need enormous willpower to save for a rainy day.

You need a plan.

But most of us are optimistic.
We think things will carry on as they always have — so we don’t plan for the worst.

So how much should we have available?

Honestly, I don’t know. It depends on your circumstances. It also depends on your risk tolerance.

If you’re risk-averse, you might want to save six months’ worth of income.
That way, you could cover your expenses for half a year.

That’s a long time.

So what’s a more reasonable amount?

Probably anything between one and three months.

Three months is a good figure to aim for.

If you can do that, you’ll have a proper cash reserve.

In these times, it’s not a frivolous question.

It’s something to seriously consider.

With winter settling over South Africa, it’s only natural to long for a rich, comforting cup of hot chocolate. There’s something deeply satisfying about sipping cocoa late at night—warming the cockles of your heart as the wind howls outside.

But if you’ve been shopping recently, you may have noticed that hot chocolate and cocoa have become noticeably more expensive—and scarcer too. A few years ago, we had a wider range of brands on supermarket shelves. Now? It’s mostly Nestlé and a few smaller names. The Cadbury’s hot chocolate we grew up with seems to have disappeared entirely. That’s no surprise—Mondelez, which owns the Cadbury brand, has been streamlining its portfolio. Even old favourites like Royco tomato soup have vanished.

But let’s get back to cocoa.

Cocoa isn’t just for hot chocolate—it’s a crucial ingredient in baking, confectionery, and, of course, those decadent slabs of chocolate. Over the past decade, chocolate prices have soared. A large Lindt slab that once cost R100 now sells for closer to R300. Cocoa has, in many ways, become a luxury.

Why?

West African cocoa producers—particularly Ivory Coast and Ghana, which together account for about half of global supply—are holding back cocoa from the market. The aim? To push prices higher. It’s a high-stakes move, and one that reflects how desperate the supply situation has become. Years of poor weather, crop diseases like cocoa swollen shoot virus, and aging plantations have all contributed to lower yields and tight global supply.

Prices surged to record highs—nearly $10,000 per ton earlier this year—before dropping about 30%. Still, they remain high at around $6,000 per ton. The West African gamble may work in the short term, especially as structural challenges continue to weigh on supply. But it’s risky. Global demand could soften, or producers in Indonesia, Brazil, or Ecuador might ramp up output and ease the squeeze.

Even if the price push works, many cocoa farmers in West Africa won’t see the full benefit. Government controls on pricing and advance sales mechanisms mean profits don’t always trickle down. It’s a bittersweet picture: higher prices, but not necessarily better livelihoods.

So, yes—expect cocoa prices to remain elevated in the coming weeks and months, especially as winter fuels demand in the southern hemisphere. But it’s a complex, volatile market. For those of us reaching for a warm mug of hot chocolate, we may have to sip a little more slowly—and treat it as the small luxury it’s become.

I came across an article recently suggesting that businesses should maintain a 90-day cash flow buffer. In theory, that sounds like solid advice—three months’ worth of expenses set aside, just in case. But in practice? Especially in an economy like South Africa’s? That feels like a luxury most businesses can’t afford.

Let’s be honest: there is no growth in the economy. Retailers are fighting tooth and nail. Small businesses are battling every month just to stay afloat. Sure, money is still moving, and there are opportunities out there—but how many entrepreneurs can afford to have 90 days’ worth of operating cash just sitting in a bank account, earning almost nothing?

For most small businesses, it’s a hand-to-mouth cycle:

Buy stock.

Sell stock.

Use that money to buy more stock.

Cover rent, staff, and a few basic overheads.

Repeat.

So how does one even begin to build up a 90-day buffer? And more importantly, is 90 days a reasonable target—or just a pipe dream?

The Realities of a Cash Buffer

The ideal buffer will always depend on:

• The type of business you run.

• Your monthly burn rate (i.e., fixed expenses).

• Your appetite for risk as a business owner.

Some industries—like seasonal tourism or manufacturing—might benefit from a longer buffer. Others, like day-to-day retail or food service, might survive on less.

Even a 30-day buffer would be a step up for many businesses. But let’s be clear about definitions here:

What Does a “90-Day Cash Flow Buffer” Really Mean?

A 90-day cash flow buffer means your business has enough liquid cash to cover 90 days’ worth of operating expenses—without relying on incoming revenue.

These expenses typically include:

• Salaries and wages

• Rent and utilities

• Supplier payments

• Loan repayments

• Insurance

• Other overheads

It’s not based on free cash flow, per se. Free cash flow is the cash left over after all operational expenses and capital expenditures have been paid. It’s more a profitability metric. A buffer is more about liquidity—your ability to keep paying the bills even when your income dries up.

So, the buffer calculation is based on actual cash outflows, after tax, not before. That’s what matters when the bills are due.

Free cash flow, by the way, is the unencumbered cash your business generates after all operating expenses and capital investments have been paid. It’s often used for growth, dividends, or debt reduction—but it’s not what a buffer is based on.

So, What’s a Reasonable Buffer?

If 90 days seems too high, start small. A 15-day or 30-day buffer is better than nothing. Build it over time. Add a small percentage of each month’s net income to a dedicated buffer account. Review your expenses. Cut unnecessary costs. Treat that buffer like a non-negotiable.

Even having a two-week buffer can buy you time, reduce stress, and help you make better decisions when unexpected things happen.

Final Thoughts

Cash flow is the lifeblood of your business. Without it, even profitable businesses can go under. In a down market, your ability to survive often depends not on how much you’re earning, but how long you can operate when the money stops flowing.

So, take a moment this week to look at your cash flow. How long could your business run if your income stopped today?

What buffer do you need to sleep better at night?

I’ve been getting WhatsApp messages lately about some South African artist working out of Holland who supposedly hit a record price for her artwork. It sounded impressive, but these days, who knows? We’re living in an era where spam, scams, and AI-generated illusions flood our feeds. I was just watching a video on Threads the other day—one of those “unbelievable talent” reels—and a sharp-eyed viewer pointed out: “This is all AI.” And they were right.

But let’s get to the serious stuff.

What actually lies behind premium pricing?

It’s a question worth asking—whether we’re talking about an abstract painting on a piece of cardboard or a bottle of whiskey priced at $250.

Is it audacity? Marketing? Pure luck?

Maybe a bit of all three. But let’s break it down.

1. Exclusivity Is the Game

The fewer the items, the higher the price. It’s not just whiskey aged for 18 years in a Scottish cave or a limited-edition canvas from a brooding painter in Berlin—it’s about scarcity. That’s what fuels desire.

You’ve seen it: A bottle store shelf suddenly sprouting a new brand of single malt with a name you’ve never heard of, priced well above your regular pick. Why? Because it’s “limited.” Or at least that’s the pitch.

Same with art. I was browsing a few galleries yesterday. There was a tiny oil-on-cardboard piece—smaller than an A3 sheet—going for R14,000. And a figure drawing in ink, done on a page ripped from an old book, priced at R4,000. That one wasn’t even A5. Other pieces selling for over R100,000 each.

2. Storytelling and Status

Whether it’s a whiskey distiller with 200 years of family tradition or a painter with a tortured backstory, the narrative sells. People don’t just want a product—they want to own a piece of a myth. That’s what they’re paying for.

Luxury is about status. It’s about walking into a room and letting the label—or the price tag—speak for you. That’s why German cars still command eye-watering prices, and why Japanese brands created upscale counterparts like Lexus and Infiniti.

3. The Veblen Effect

Here’s the irony: Sometimes the higher the price, the more people want it. Economists call these Veblen goods. The product doesn’t just maintain demand when the price rises—it becomes more desirable.

Think of whiskey again. I used to buy a decent one at a fair price until it jumped 40%. Naturally, I went looking for alternatives—and guess what? I found a better-tasting one for only R100 more. But the first one? Still flying off the shelves. Why? Because that price increase made it seem more special.

4. Reality Check: Dusty Canvases and Unsold Dreams

Back to art. The irony of some premium pricing is that it exists mostly on paper—or in press releases. You go back to the same gallery months later and the same canvas priced at R80,000 is still there, gathering dust. So who’s buying? Are they really selling anything at those prices?

Sometimes, premium pricing isn’t about moving product—it’s about posturing. Setting a high price can anchor the artist’s perceived value, even if nothing sells. It’s a brand-building game.

And Now the Question That Matters:

What’s your premium offering?

You don’t need a whisky barrel in your basement or a fine arts degree to think about premium pricing in your own life. Is there something you do—or could do—that’s exclusive, high-quality, or status-driven enough to command a higher price?

Remember: There are no hard rules. Just look at the market. If someone can sell a sketch on a book page for four grand, there’s room for everyone to dream a little bigger.

I’m always amazed at the origin and tradition of takeaway foods. Consider the humble hamburger—just meat between a bun, yet an international staple. In South Africa, we have the boerewors roll, which has become a go-to meal on the move. Samosas, too—triangular parcels of spiced meat, usually small but punchy in flavor. And then there’s the toasted sandwich, now inflated in price and rebranded as a “toastie.” Hot dogs are so rare these days that if you’re craving one, it’s probably better to make it at home.

Pizza has carved its place in the local scene, with smaller, eat-on-the-go sizes widely available. Johannesburg used to be famous for its shawarmas—thankfully, you can still find some very decent versions that add a Mediterranean flair to our fast-food landscape.

But today, let’s talk pies—specifically, takeaway pies in South Africa in 2025.

Yesterday, I bought a Big Jack mutton curry pie. I hadn’t had one in literal decades, and while it was tasty, the filling was sparse compared to something like a Pieman’s pie or the generously packed steak curry pie from Checkers. While supermarket pies have their place, I’m focusing here on takeaway pies—the kind that offer a small business or food stall operator an entrepreneurial foothold in a tough economy.

Interestingly, I don’t see many pies at Cape Town’s Saturday morning markets or food stalls. Perhaps the price is too high, or maybe the category never really took off again post-COVID. Still, for someone with flair and a good recipe, it’s an area with potential.

The Market Landscape in 2025

The market for takeaway pies in South Africa is recovering, but it’s not without challenges. In 2020, the pies and savoury appetisers sector was worth roughly ZAR 13.64 billion and had been growing at over 5% CAGR pre-pandemic.

COVID-19, however, hit the sector hard—especially the ban on hot pie sales during lockdowns. A 15–20% sales dip followed, and volumes have not fully recovered as of 2025. High inflation, rising energy costs, and load shedding continue to squeeze margins. Smaller producers, especially those focused solely on hot pies, have struggled or closed down altogether. Larger manufacturers with diversified offerings have managed to survive the storm more robustly.

So while the pie market is still standing, it’s a cautious, constrained sort of standing—one eye always on the power grid, the other on input costs.

Who’s Still Serving the Good Stuff?

Despite economic turbulence, South Africa still has some fantastic pies being made—both by large franchises and independent gems.

Well-known Brands & Franchises:

• Pieman’s – A long-standing favorite for reliable quality and wide availability.
• King Pie – A familiar name offering a wide variety of fillings.
• Big Joe’s Pies – Handmade pies with a growing reputation for using quality ingredients.
• Woolworths – Supermarket pies, yes, but their Pepper Steak and Chicken varieties are often praised for flavor and consistency.

Popular Farm Stalls and Independent Bakeries:

• Houw Hoek Farm Stall (Western Cape) – Especially well known for their Bobotie pies.
• Peregrine Farm Stall (Western Cape) – Excellent steak curry and venison pies.
• Nanaga Farm Stall (Eastern Cape) – Lamb & mint, chicken, and other traditional favorites.
• Ou Meul Bakkery (various locations) – Lamb pies often singled out.
• Shamrock Pie (Eastern Cape) – Freshly baked and hearty.
• Maders Butcher (Pretoria) – Good meat pies with strong local support.
• The Pie Crew – A newer brand modernising the “garage pie” with big, handmade options.
• Alphen Spar (Cape Town) – Butter chicken pies have earned a loyal following.
• Beavers (Port Alfred) – A nostalgic go-to for classic pepper steak.
• Jason Bakery (Cape Town) – Artisanal pastry meets comfort food.
• Truth Café (Cape Town) – Known more for coffee but offers occasional gourmet pies.
• Clarke’s Bar & Dining Room (Cape Town) – Flaky, filling pies as part of a broader comfort menu.
• Loaves on Long (Cape Town) – Primarily a bread spot, but the pies are worth trying when available.

Johannesburg & Surrounds:

• Nice on 4th (Parkhurst) – Known for hearty breakfast and lunch pies in a sit-down setting.
• Savvy Pies (various outlets) – A Joburg-born brand offering both traditional and gourmet flavours.
• Bryanston Organic Market – Occasional pie vendors with excellent vegetarian and gluten-free pastry options.
• The Argentinean Bakery (Linden) – Their empanadas aren’t technically pies, but they satisfy a similar craving with top-notch pastry and meat.
• Croydon Bakery (Edenvale) – Known for traditional meat pies at great value.
• The Whippet (Linden) – Gourmet, smaller batch offerings—chicken, beef and occasional bobotie pies.
• Voodoo Lily Café (Birdhaven) – Upscale take on the classic chicken and mushroom.
• Bossies Pies (Cresta) – lets you watch the magic happen, pastry and all.

Even Hartbeespoort Dam and its surrounds offer pie gems like Jasmyn Plaasprodukte, a farm stall worth a visit for fresh produce and hearty eats.

And then there’s Maggie’s Home of the Chicken Pie near Lanseria, on the way to Hartbeespoort Dam. If you’ve ever driven out that way, this may be the farm stall you remember—crammed with filling, flaky and hot, and wrapped in the kind of memory that smells like childhood and Sunday drives.

South Africa’s Top Pie Fillings (As Rated by Local Tastebuds):

• Pepper Steak
• Chicken & Mushroom
• Mutton Curry
• Bobotie
• Venison
• Lamb & Mint
• Steak & Kidney

In conclusion, the takeaway pie in South Africa may not be booming in 2025, but it’s resilient. There’s still space in the market for innovation, especially among small-scale producers willing to push quality and flavour. And let’s face it—there’s something deeply satisfying about a hot pie in a brown paper bag, eaten with one hand while walking through a market or waiting for your car at a car wash.

Who knows? The next big food trend might not be something new, but something baked golden brown and wrapped in buttery nostalgia.

I’ve recently been reading a biography of Jack London—the rugged American adventurer and author best known for The Call of the Wild. What struck me was how deeply engaged he was with the ideas of socialism. His era—around the 1890s—was a time of intense industrial expansion, fierce class divides, and labor unrest. London wanted to blend his creative writing with his socialist ideals, hoping fiction could push forward real change. He admired Karl Marx, and while I don’t agree with all of Marx’s conclusions, I’ll admit the man had a sharp understanding of how economies function, especially around the concept of the ownership of the means of production.

But history often proves this: even when ideas begin with idealism, they can falter in the real world. Corruption, power consolidation, and inefficiency creep in. Leaders grow stagnant. Economies collapse. And the very system meant to uplift the people becomes a burden to them.

So, why is socialism still so popular?

Let’s take a step back.

The Appeal of Socialism

At its core, socialism promises fairness: equality, dignity, and care for all. Especially in the wake of unchecked capitalist greed or gross inequality, socialism seems like a compassionate alternative. After World War II, many developed countries introduced aspects of socialism—universal healthcare, public education, pensions—that genuinely helped millions.

Today, many young people, particularly millennials and Gen Z, are drawn to “democratic socialism” or social democracy. To them, it’s not about the state owning every factory and farm, but about the state stepping in to make sure no one falls through the cracks. Free education, healthcare, a basic income—these aren’t seen as luxuries but as rights. Scandinavian countries often get held up as examples of how it can work.

In South Africa, we technically run a capitalist economy—with a few social policies, like grants and state-run services. But we are far from a social democracy in the Scandinavian sense.

Where It All Falls Apart

Let’s be blunt: in South Africa, the capitalist system is failing to provide the basics. Electricity, water, hospitals, schools—chaos. But that’s not because the ideas behind these services are wrong. It’s the people running them who are looting and mismanaging them. Corruption—not socialism—is the disease here.

This failure of the state leads many South Africans to long for a fairer, more just economic system. Hence the romantic appeal of socialism. But again, the problem isn’t just the system—it’s the human nature inside the system.

Ambition vs. Distribution

For the realist, for the ambitious person who wants to build, create, and accumulate—socialism can feel like a cage. If you want the freedom to rise on your own terms, capitalism (especially in its freer forms) gives you that space. You can start with nothing and end with something. You can grow.

But for those who are tired of the greed and inequality that can accompany capitalism—those who value the collective over the individual—socialism offers a powerful vision.

The South African Dilemma

Here’s where we sit: too much corruption in the state, too much inequality in the private sector. We have a capitalism that doesn’t deliver and a state that squanders what little it has. So what’s the answer?

For me, it comes down to this: I’ve lived both sides.

When I started out in journalism, I was paid a pittance. And the longer I stayed, the more I realised I was digging myself deeper into a hole where one could not rise from poverty. My father—who had been a journalist all his life—once told me, “If you want to be a journalist, you need to have private income or inherited wealth.” At the time, I didn’t want to believe him. But over time, I realised he was right.

Eventually, through further education and opportunity, I was able to pivot. I moved into industries like financial services, food manufacturing, and industrial engineering—enterprises that actually rewarded skill and initiative. These jobs provided me with the income to rise above the survival line.

I never gave up my creative side—writing and art have always been a part of my life—but they became a sideline. A treasured one, but not a livelihood. Capitalism, in its better form, gave me that space to grow and redirect.

So What’s the Way Forward?

We don’t need more dogma. We need systems that allow people to rise. That means real free enterprise—where people can start small, grow, and not be crushed by red tape, monopolies, or political patronage. It means social safety nets that prevent disaster, without creating dependency or stifling initiative.

Whether you call it a mixed economy, ethical capitalism, or social entrepreneurship, it comes down to this: people must have dignity, access, and agency.

And no system, whether capitalist or socialist, can give that automatically. It must be earned, built, and protected—by all of us.