Editorial illustration

Because I had no relationship with my vagina, I had no relationship with what was done to and with it. I gave my virginity as a gift to a man that found a song in me. If life was possible without breathing I would have given him my breath as a dowry, so in its place I offered my hymen instead.

Editorial illustration for Mahala, South Africa

t’s easy to see why the idea of this mystical medicine has become so popular amongst cultural voyeurs, psychonauts and new-age health freaks. The religion of our time – buying shit – is unable to give us what our predecessors once gained from organised religion. Capitalism and consumerism have drained the spiritual integrity from our lives

Illustration for Mahala, South Africa

I could not for the life of me help but think that white people are truly fanatical, bollocks, psychopaths, crazy. I kept wondering, what on God’s green earth had happened to these people to make them so insatiable, brutal, malevolent, gruesome and just downright hateful.


So without thinking where the closest municipal dump is, I adopt my ex-neighbour’s logic and reckon I’ll just do the poor a favour and give them a mouldy old couch. I heave the stinking beast into the back of the bakkie as a bouquet of lightning fills the sky. The thunder rumbles.

Editorial illustration for Mahala, South Africa

After the drugs were done and we had gone home, for the first time I had the cravings. It had never happened to me before. I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t stay still. I wanted to shout, swear and scream. I wanted to do something. I paced the room.


Editorial Illustrations, Mahala


Mahala, South Africa