Still, she invited me to view a space she was considering — a blank canvas in the heart of Constitution Hill. It was big. Bold. A dream too massive to contain. Mpho was excited, jittery, and slightly overwhelmed. The vision was clear, but the leap was huge.

Inside, a bouquet of wildflowers — not arranged for perfection but for honesty. And then, the clothes: delicate, meaningful, full of thought. She told me, “I make some of the slowest fashion around.” And I believed her.

So I am just going to go for it. I am just going to write and then hit publish because I must let the writer in me out before she leaves, packs away her gifts and dreams and goes to sit up on that shelf next to the turntables I received for my 32nd birthday.