My love-hate date with the mother of all muffins

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My love-hate date with the mother of all muffins

I think I’ll stick to politics in future. It might make me sick, but it won’t kill me.

I can’t bring myself to write about politics this week. I tried. I really did. But the entire country is on its feet shouting at Cyril Ramaphosa and Shamila Batohi to do something big and brave and the constant echo from the void has left me disoriented and debilitated. Let me rather tell you about my muffin. It was given to me by a friend. A woman friend. I have nothing against men giving each other muffins, but it’s not for me. I had woken up in her boyfriend’s house after a spectacular bout of carousing ill-befitting my age and...



 


 

 

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