IdentityTrip

#SoBasicallyZA, the tl;dr is: a court said "guilty" and "5 years" and then immediately said "jk lol, come back in half a decade for the appeal."

Here's the thing for my fellow youth who think parliament is just a screaming match for old people with red berets:

Seems to me this case isn't really about a gun fired in 2018. If it was just about that, it would've been settled in a traffic court. This is about the cold war between the state and the eff's brand of disruption. It's about proving that the establishment can touch the "untouchable" commander in chief.

It's giving kafkaesque performance art.

Malema needs the state to reject him to validate his existence. The state needs malema to break rules to validate its authority. They are trapped in a toxic symbiotic relationship and we are the audience forced to buy popcorn.

A scary part is that, the threats to the prosecutor. We can joke about "free juju" memes all day, but when the people who enforce the law start getting doxxed and threatened for doing their job (even if you think the job was politically motivated), we inch closer to a place where only the loudest, scariest voice in the room matters. And as a certified quiet kid on this app, that's not the vibe.

Been sitting on this for a few days. Bobbi Althoff's current posts – the self-hatred confession, the Zoloft plans, the walking accountability – they're getting a lot of "so brave" comments. And part of me agrees. Depression is brutal.

But another part of me wonders: when did healing become a live stream?

She's a smart woman. She knows the divorce drama, the dating memes, the "ran through" comments – all of it drives engagement. And she's leaning in. Not faking, but leaning.

I'm not here to bully her. I'm here to ask: are we helping by applauding every crying video? Or are we just spectators to a very public breakdown dressed up as a comeback?

So, I just found out that Gqeberha has its very own AI playground. body { font-family: 'Outfit', sans-serif; background-color: #0f172a; color: #f1f5f9; } .headline-font { font-family: 'Space Grotesk', sans-serif; } .glass-card { background: rgba(30, 41, 59, 0.7); backdrop-filter: blur(12px); border: 1px solid rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.1); border-radius: 24px; } .accent-gradient { background: linear-gradient(135deg, #6366f1 0%, #a855f7 50%, #ec4899 100%); } .text-gradient { background: linear-gradient(135deg, #818cf8, #f472b6); -webkit-background-clip: text; -webkit-text-fill-color: transparent; } .tag-pill { background: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.05); transition: all 0.2s ease; } .tag-pill:hover { background: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.15); transform: translateY(-2px); }

📍 Summerstrand, Gqeberha

#SoBasiccallyZA, I just found out that Gqeberha has its very own AI playground.

The Nelson Mandela University Dome

Ocean Sciences Campus

Tucked away in Summerstrand, right on the Ocean Sciences Campus, something pretty cool is happening. You know that massive, futuristic Dome near the beach? The one that usually shows us the stars?

Well, Nelson Mandela University has teamed up with a local tech company called Odin Education to turn part of it into something called the Future Talent Centre. They launched it with an event literally titled "AI is Coming," which sounds a bit dramatic, but honestly? It’s actually really welcoming.

"It’s less about coding in the dark and more about demystifying the tech that’s already starting to shape our world."

The whole point here is to stop treating Artificial Intelligence like this scary, distant concept reserved for tech billionaires and actually let the community touch it. They want to make it a tool for all of us.

Odin Pl.ai Zone

Interactive tech where curiosity is the only entry requirement. Play, learn, and break the fourth wall of AI.

Omang Project

A super-powered study buddy giving pupils in under-resourced schools a digital leg up.

Imagine walking into the Dome and finding a space packed with tech you can actually play with. It's about opening up access and making it a community hub. Whether you're a student or just someone driving down Gomery Avenue, it’s worth keeping an eye out for the signs.

Gqeberha is quietly positioning itself to be a real player in the future of learning, and honestly? That’s something worth getting excited about.

Have you been to the Dome recently? Might be time for a visit.

#SoBasicallyZA, the NBA has never been afraid to experiment, and this year’s All-Star Game proved just how bold the league can be. Gone are the days of East vs. West or even the captain’s draft. In their place, we now have a mini-tournament featuring three squads: USA Stars, USA Stripes, and Team World. At first glance, it feels unusual—almost like the league is rewriting the script of a tradition we thought was set in stone. But after watching it unfold, I’m convinced this format is a step forward.

What makes it work is the way it celebrates the NBA’s global identity. Team World isn’t just a gimmick; it’s a showcase of the international talent that has reshaped the league. Seeing players like Luka Dončić, Giannis Antetokounmpo, and Nikola Jokić go head-to-head against America’s best is more than entertainment—it’s a reminder that basketball is truly universal.

The shorter, round-robin games also inject a sense of urgency that the old format lacked. With only twelve minutes per matchup, players can’t coast. Every possession matters, and that competitive edge was visible from the opening tip. Fans got more variety too—different combinations of stars clashing in quick bursts rather than one drawn-out exhibition. It kept the energy high and the audience engaged.

Perhaps the most exciting part is how it opens the door for rising stars. Anthony Edwards’ MVP performance wasn’t just a highlight; it was proof that this format gives younger players room to shine without being overshadowed by veterans. The All-Star Game has always been about spectacle, but now it feels like a proving ground as well.

Change is never easy, especially when it touches something as iconic as the All-Star Game. But this USA vs. World format has breathed new life into an event that was in danger of becoming stale. It’s faster, fresher, and more inclusive—and if the goal was to make fans care again, the NBA has succeeded.

For years, the influencer economy operated like a high-stakes Wild West. Brands threw millions at creators, content with the digital equivalent of a polite nod: likes, impressions, and the vague promise of "brand awareness". But as we move deeper into 2026, the honeymoon period for "vibes-only" campaigns is officially over. We have entered the Era of ROI—a turning point where the creator economy is finally being held to the same rigorous performance standards as search advertising and retail media.

From Reach to Revenue

The industry is witnessing a profound shift in how influence is valued. Raw "reach" is no longer synonymous with impact. Instead, we are seeing a massive reallocation of budgets toward nano- and micro-influencers. Why? Because the data is undeniable: smaller, niche-focused creators with high engagement deliver a lower Cost Per Acquisition (CPA) than their celebrity counterparts. A community of 50,000 obsessed followers who buy what a creator recommends is infinitely more valuable than five million who simply scroll past.

This shift is underpinned by a new "Hybrid Compensation" model. The days of the flat-fee "one-off" post are dying. In its place, industry contracts now typically involve:

A Base Creative Fee: Acknowledging the creator's production work.

Performance Bonuses: Tiered payments based on clicks, sign-ups, or actual conversions.

Affiliate Models: Long-term revenue sharing that aligns the creator’s incentives with the brand’s bottom line.

The New Power Players: Sports and Peer Proof

Perhaps nowhere is this shift more evident than in the sports creator boom. The relationship between fans and athletes has evolved from "Appointment-to-View" television to "Fluid Participation". Fans no longer want the "polished" athlete giving a 110-percent interview; they want the "messy" reality of a TikTok room tour or a raw recovery session. These "student-athlete-entrepreneurs" are building micro-communities that traditional ads cannot match, turning personal authenticity into an execution engine for growth.

Complementing this is the "Power of Peer Proof" through User-Generated Content (UGC). In a filter-heavy world, the most valuable currency a brand can hold is a customer’s honest opinion. Recent studies show that 84% of people trust brands more when they incorporate UGC into their campaigns.

UGC succeeds because it doesn't look like an ad; it looks like a recommendation from a friend. In markets like South Africa, this is even more critical, where digital commerce is deeply ingrained in "Ubuntu" and word-of-mouth society. Peer-led content acts as a digital "trusted neighbor," helping to overcome consumer skepticism and the fear of online scams.

The Infrastructure of the Future

To maximize this new era of influence, brands are moving away from chasing fleeting attention and instead investing in "sustainable infrastructure" built on four specific levers:

Long-term Partnerships: Moving from "campaigns to marriages" to build frequency and familiarity.

Whitelisting: Using creator handles to run paid ads, bridging the gap between authenticity and scale.

AI Predictive Analytics: Using data-driven modeling to forecast engagement and ROI before a single dollar is spent.

Social Commerce: Integrating checkout features directly into platforms like TikTok and Instagram, turning every post into a potential storefront.

The Vibe Check

Why This One Actually Felt Like Progress (and Not Just a Funeral)

I’ll be honest—I sat down on my couch to watch Ramaphosa tonight ready to eye-roll. We’ve all heard "turning the corner" so many times it feels like we’re just driving in circles. But about twenty minutes in, I caught myself actually… listening. Not because I agreed with everything, but because the vibe was genuinely different. It felt sharper and more confident, and I don't think that’s a coincidence after we hosted the G20. That event wasn't just diplomatic theatre; it forced South Africa to look functional, credible, and investment-ready on a global stage, and that confidence spilled over into tonight’s speech.

There is a clear link here that people aren't talking about enough: BRICS wants a stable South Africa. We are the bloc’s gateway to Africa and its most developed financial voice. Tonight felt like the President telling our global partners that we are holding the line so the investment keeps flowing. It’s smart, diplomatic piggybacking. But what actually caught my attention wasn't the talk of the Rand or the JSE; it was the faces in the backbenches.

When the camera panned across the chamber, I saw people who looked… young. Actual thirty-somethings who weren't part of the old factional wars. It made me realize that we’ve spent so long critiquing Parliament as a retirement village that we forgot to ask who would eventually replace them.

The G20 photo-ops were slick, and the BRICS alignment is necessary, but the "turning the corner" thesis only works if the people in the vehicle aren't constantly looking in the rearview mirror. I’m still not 100% convinced we’ve made it around that corner yet, but for the first time in years, we’re at least pointing at it coherently. It doesn’t feel like a victory lap, but it definitely doesn't feel like a funeral anymore. Now, we just need to see if the budget speech in two weeks matches the energy.

#SoBasicallyZA, is South Africa Ready to Lead?

To address the question: South Africa is currently performing a high-wire act. We are "ready" to lead the Global South because we have to be—our international influence is the only thing providing the "diplomatic capital" needed to keep investors interested while we fix our local government crises.

Tensions at Nelson Mandela University as Police Join Private Security at Blockaded Campus Entrance

The Echoes of a ‘Fall’ that Never Quite Landed

It’s 2026, and the air in Gqeberha still tastes like smoke and unresolved promises.

If you close your eyes at the North Campus gates, you can almost hear the ghosts of 2015. Back then, we were told the fees would fall. We were told the gates would swing wide. But today, the only thing falling is the rain on students who spent the night outside because their NSFAS accommodation hasn't cleared yet.

There’s a heavy irony in seeing SAPS “step in” at a university named after a man who spent 27 years fighting for the right to stand where those students are standing. It’s not just about the money anymore; it’s about the math of survival. 34,000 students are surviving, to be exact.

5,340 beds.

Countless dreams are currently "pending" on a digital portal.

#SoBasicallZA, we called it "Fees Must Fall," but maybe we should now call it "The System Must Wake Up." The barricades aren't just made of tires and debris this time, but also of red tape and "readiness assessments" that feel anything but ready.

The Unbearable Weight of the Halftime Pivot

The Super Bowl halftime show is one of the most watched performances in the world, and this year the NFL made a bold choice: Bad Bunny. Fresh off a Grammy win, he represents global reach, streaming dominance, and the league’s push to diversify its audience. On paper, it was a strategic move. In practice, the reaction has been mixed.

This friction is about more than just musical taste. It is a collision between the NFL as a data-driven multinational corporation and football as a distinctly American cultural anchor.

For the league’s executives sitting in Park Avenue boardrooms, the choice was likely obvious. The domestic market for the NFL is reaching saturation. Growth lies not in converting the fifty-year-old Midwest season ticket holder, but in capturing the fragmented attention of Gen Z and expanding into international markets, particularly Latin America. Bad Bunny is not merely a pop star in this context; he is an economic engine. He is the undisputed king of streaming, an artist who bypasses traditional English-language media gatekeepers to connect directly with a massive, bilingual, globally-minded fanbase. To ignore his dominance is to ignore the statistical reality of modern music consumption.

Furthermore, hiring Bad Bunny signals a commitment to the NFL’s stated goals of inclusion. In a league where Latino participation on the field and in coaching ranks remains low, spotlighting a Puerto Rican superstar on the biggest stage is a powerful, high-visibility corrective.

Yet, the Super Bowl is perhaps the last remaining vestige of the American "monoculture", a singular event where nearly a third of the nation watches the same thing simultaneously. For decades, the halftime show served as a comforting reinforcement of mainstream American musical hegemony, rotating through classic rock legends, country stars, and safe, English-speaking pop titans.

#SoBasicallyZA, the "mixed reaction" to Bad Bunny stems from a segment of the core viewership feeling alienated by the swift currents of cultural change. For an audience accustomed to understanding every lyric sung at midfield, a primarily Spanish-language performance in a genre like Reggaeton that thrives on rhythms distinct from American rock or soul can feel like an exclusion. It raises a difficult question that the league has been dancing around for years: Who is the Super Bowl actually for?

There is also an inherently complicated irony in the "foreignness" some fans attribute to Bad Bunny. As a Puerto Rican, Benito Antonio Martínez Ocasio is a U.S. citizen. His presence onstage should, theoretically, be viewed as a celebration of American diversity. Instead, the backlash highlights the uncomfortable reality of how the mainland often views the territory—as simultaneously "of us" but not "one of us."

The NFL is betting that the future of the sport requires bridging this gap, favoring a dynamic, globalized identity over a static, localized tradition. They are banking on the idea that the spectacle of Bad Bunny’s artistry will transcend the language barrier, turning skeptics into believers during those crucial twelve minutes.

Chaos in Rabat: Controversy, Conspiracies, and the AFCON 2026 Final Meltdown

#SoBasicallyZA, the recent Africa Cup of Nations (AFCON) final between Morocco and Senegal will be remembered for years to come—but perhaps for all the wrong reasons. While the continent expected a display of elite football, what transpired was a volatile mix of diplomatic tension, bizarre "towel wars," and a historic mid-match walk-off that brought CAF politics into the global spotlight.

Pre-Match Tensions: A Hostile Welcome

The friction began long before the opening whistle. The Senegalese Football Federation lodged formal complaints regarding their treatment upon arriving in Rabat. They cited a "lack of adequate security," substandard hotel accommodations, and restricted access to training grounds. Furthermore, a dispute over ticket allocations left thousands of Senegalese fans stranded, creating a siege mentality within the Teranga Lions' camp before the match even kicked off.

Unsportsmanlike Tactics: "The Towel War" and Lasers

Once the match began, the tension shifted to the pitch, manifesting in bizarre psychological warfare.

Towel Theft Scandals: In a series of viral clips, Moroccan players, including Ismael Saibari and captain Achraf Hakimi, were seen repeatedly attempting to steal or discard Senegal goalkeeper Édouard Mendy’s towel—a common target in African football superstitions.

Ball Boy Aggression: The involvement of local ball boys escalated the chaos. Footage captured ball boys dragging Senegal’s reserve goalkeeper, Yehvann Diouf, along the ground during a scuffle over the contested towel.

Laser Interference: The stands were a sea of green light, but not for celebration. Moroccan supporters frequently targeted Senegalese players with high-powered laser pointers, aimed directly at Mendy’s face during crucial set-pieces.

The Breaking Point: The 17-Minute Walk-Off

The situation reached a boiling point when a late penalty was awarded to Morocco. Infuriated by the decision and the mounting hostility, Senegal’s head coach, Pape Thiaw, took the unprecedented step of ordering his team to leave the pitch.

Led by Sadio Mané, the squad retreated to the dressing rooms, resulting in a 17-minute disruption that left officials and fans in a state of confusion. Meanwhile, the stands descended into chaos as Senegalese supporters clashed with security, and journalists from both nations reportedly engaged in physical altercations in the press box.

Official Reactions & Consequences

The fallout from the final has sent shockwaves through the footballing world, with leaders calling for immediate reform.

Entity StanceKey QuoteCAF Investigating, " Reviewing footage for disciplinary action against unacceptable behavior. "FIFA (Gianni Infantino) Condemnation: "These scenes are ugly... violence has no place in football. "Walid Regragui (Morocco)Critical." The walk-off was shameful and did not honor Africa. "Pape Thiaw (Senegal)Apologetic. "It was a heat-of-the-moment error. I apologize for the delay."

The Verdict

I’ve outlined ten clear and easy-to-understand trends for 2026 that will shape the next marketing landscape. These include AI-driven personalisation and commerce led by creators. Each trend comes with a specific opportunity you can explore this quarter, a real-world example and a simple checklist to help you put the insights into action. If you are involved in content, growth or brand strategy, this article is packed with ideas you can implement immediately and language you can use in your next presentation.

In addition to the trends, this article shows how I approach things: by analysing patterns, framing ideas creatively and writing concisely to turn curiosity into actionable plans. My work bridges storytelling and systems, translating complex changes into concrete steps that can be scaled. If you are looking to hire for content, strategy or marketing operations, this is a glimpse into the voice, structure and strategic approach I bring to teams.

Take a look, share your thoughts and feel free to experiment with the trends. I’d love to hear which one caught your eye and I can share a quick experiment plan you can try in a week.

Never have I ever pressed play on an album and suddenly felt like I've slipped into a velvet memory that I've never experienced before. Yep, that’s wHIMSY. Destin Conrad didn’t just make music—he summoned a mood, lit a candle, and whispered secrets into a saxophone.

It’s giving:

“I miss you but I’m too cool to say it”

“This wine tastes like regret and rosewater”

“I’m journaling in cursive again”

The jazz elements? Unexpected. Delicious. Like someone snuck a trumpet solo into your voice note and now you’re crying in lowercase. Vanisha Gould’s vocals feel like vintage perfume soft, haunting, and a little dangerous. And Destin? He’s crooning like he’s been ghosted by a ghost.

There’s something nostalgic here, but not in the TikTok-core way. It’s the kind of nostalgia that smells like your grandmother’s vinyl collection and sounds like late-night radio in a city you’ve never lived in. It’s whimsy, yes but it’s also longing, intimacy, and a little bit of chaos wrapped in silk.

If you’re a sucker for sonic storytelling, emotional jazz loops, and lyrics that feel like they were scribbled in the margins of a love letter, this album is your new obsession.