The next sucker… Hum… I mean victim friend to share her photos with us… SanityFound! But she is no ordinary Souf Efrikan. Nope. She is from the city. Pretoria… (Shiver)… And this is about her journey… Of love…

Let me start by saying that she is a deeply disturbed Souf Efrikan. She does things that makes us just shake our head and go… “What is happening to the youth of today”. Or in a more pure Souf Efrikan way, “Wat are heppening to duh yoof off twodey?” She is a wild one… But don’t believe just old me. I have photo evidence. And more than one photo…

You think her name SanityFound has something to do with finding her “inner” self? Her deep side? Haha! Suckers. Not even close. It’s about her journey from Pretoria to Cape Town. About love found and lost. And found again and lost again and found again. And then lost again. I give to you SanityFound’s journey as a Souf Efrikan.

Her real name is Ossewania Smit. (To non-Souf Efrikans… It’s something like Oxwagonia and the most common surname you can get.) Born and bred in Snor City (Moustache City) – Pretoria. She went to a girls only school – Langkloof Hoerskool (no umlaut & too rude to translate!) She was Miss Langkloof even with the braces and thick glasses. Because she was still the best looking one at school. Yeah, the competition was really weak. She was the only one with her own teeth. And without a cauliflower ear. And the only one to actually make it to her final year at school. And then she was set free…

Okay, she left school and went to a party in Joburg.

And there it all started with some trouble with the law…

The whole gang (Jannie, Sannie and friends) went to the park in Joburg to celebrate their freedom. They went to the beach – Benoni. No sea in a 1,000 miles, but it had a swimming pool and all the stuff you find at the beach. Fat guys with long socks and beer. Women with two beers in their hands and a swimming costume 4 sizes to small. Sand that got stuck in your underwear. And, that Souf Efrikan speciality, a mugging to go with your shopping at the boerie stand (hot dog stand). Oh, they had so much fun…

But Ossewania had too much fun. Taking drinks from Jannie who always had the hots for her. She didn’t realize that they ran out of beer hours ago, but Jannie kept on filling up her glass… Jannie was known t be 100 per cent proof.

The problems started when she decided to chat up the tall handsome dude she was leaning against. It was early morning so she couldn’t see that well. She thought he was a bit of a stiff, but she always liked tall guys.

So she started catching a vry (smooch) with this guy. She thinks he said his name started with an S. But she couldn’t be sure. It could have been the wind. His lips were a bit hard. But she put that down to inexperience. Or that it was her first time without her braces. She lost that opening the last bottle of beer with her teeth. But at least he had strong solid arms. Like tree trunks. (Oh, she also lost her glasses somewhere during the party. And the bottom of the Coke bottles didn’t work as well as before.)

And then she heard it… “Freeze you woman!” She froze. Threw her arms up in the air. And her date just stood there behind her. He didn’t do a thing to protect her. He stood there like a piece of wood. Almost like he was rooted to the spot.

But she made a dash for it. She headbutted the guy she thought was the cop. Ouch. That hurt…

But she made it. She was free. She ran and ran her little legs off. Even changed her name. To Eeufesia Smythe (Centuriafestivalia and fancy surname – these are real names by the way!) It sounded so much fancier.

She got lost somewhere between Joburg and Cape Town. In the Karoo. A dry desert area. They say the f*ck-all grows 6 feet high there. And that it is so quiet and dead that f*ck-all happens there every hour and that it goes on for days. It was just our little Eeufesia and her friend Saartjie Visser. Stumbling along in this dry country. And then she saw him… She fell for him… really hard… She knew it the moment she fell over him… Her one true love…

And I mean literally fall over him. He was that short. But like a little rock.

Her little Rhino she called him. Rhino Post. (Where rhinos rub their butts. Serious. They must be men.)

She loved her little Rhino. He was short. He was smelly. He wasn’t much of a kisser either. But he was her little Rhino. Her rock.

But she lost him somewhere during the night. She had to go pay “beer rent”. And couldn’t find him in the darkness. She wondered around shouting his name. “Rhino! Rhino! Where art thy Rhino!” But he didn’t answer. He was the quiet type. She sulked in the arms of Saartjie. Cried her little heart out. Because she missed him so.

Oh where could he be? Her man. Her little Rhino Post. She could still smell him on her clothes. Her fingers. Her hair. Her lips. Ewe! Aargh! It smelled really bad. But still. Her heart belonged to him and only him.

And then she saw him. Her little man. Her rock. Her smelly rock. Her Rhino Post butt rock.

I wish I could tell you that it had a happy ending. It didn’t. Eeufesia went for a walk one day and came back only to catch him cheating on her. With a Rhino. And she found her glasses.

But there you go. That’s our SanityFound. Down in Cape Town now (or close enough). Still sulking about her Benoni lover and about her little Rhino. She’s getting better now. But we think it is time for her to leave. The rocks in South Africa isn’t good for her. But at least she can tell her children one day about her journey of love. Her life of love found and lost. And her life story as a Souf Efrikan.

It’s a shame it didn’t work out though. Rhino Post and Eeufesia would have had beautiful kids. Okay, scrap the beautiful part. A rock is a rock.


(For those non-Souf Efrikans – We call really stupid Souf Efrikan men “rocks”. They are that dense, thick and hard headed.)