#Hillbrow

I’m struggling with this post. I keep writing stuff and then deleting it because I don’t know what to say about Hillbrow that I haven’t said before. I’ve been blogging about Hillbrow since 2011 (that first post was embarrassing though), and I’ve used up all the Hillbrow clichés. I’ve even created some clichés of my own, like “Hillbrow is hard to know.” I wrote that in 2017 and then almost used it as the title of this post, until I realized it’s super pretentious.

I’ve been working out with George Khosi at the Hillbrow Boxing Club for many years. Up until the lockdown started I’d been going to Hillbrow about three times a week, every week, since 2012.

Before reading on, I suggest reading Part 1 of Abby the Tiger’s story.

Humans call me Abby. But they used to call me Tiger.

Some of you may remember me – I’ve told my story here before. I was born in Hillbrow and I used to live in a boxing gym there. Back then, when I was still a young cat, Heather (the human who owns this blog) asked me to write a guest post for her. She thought my life was very interesting, and I suppose she was right.

I train at the Hillbrow Boxing Club and I’ve been going there three mornings a week, every week, for the past five years.

I used to go to the gym with a bunch of friends, but for the last several months it’s been mostly just me. I drag myself out of bed at 6:00 a.m., plunge my tiny car into the riot of taxis on Claim Street, wind boxing wraps around my hands, and exhaust myself for an hour with my coaches, George and James.

On a tour with Dlala Nje last weekend, I visited some high-rise rooftops in Berea.

I’ve written about Jozi’s rooftops before (read here and here and here). And here’s the thing about these rooftops: They’re the greatest places in town to enjoy the city, and yet a huge proportion of the city’s population never visits them. Because the best rooftops tend to be in the parts of town where people are scared to go to.