yes piped.video/S9bG-2o0CZs?si=zOZQ…

🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

Truth

In April of 1652, when Jan van Riebeeck’s ships nosed into Table Bay, the men aboard were thinking of water, vegetables, and a fort that would not blow over. They were not, so far as anyone recorded, thinking of a culinary inheritance. Still, they brought a funny fat iron pots. Heavy, heat-greedy round belly iron pots. In the Netherlands such pots had already seen lean years. During the long war with Spain, the people of Leiden had thrown whatever they still possessed into one great communal stew and called it hutspot, which is a polite word for making do. Everyone added what they had. Nobody pretended it was elegant. That habit crossed the sea and found a new fire at the foot of a strange mountain. It sat over hearths and later over open ground, and it learned the climate the way a person learns a new house, by staying in it. Brushwood would do. A handful of coals would do. When the veld was thin, dried dung would do as well. Clay cracked on a jolting cart, so, only the weird Iron pot would make do. Two hundred years on, the same sort of pot hung beneath ox wagons turning their backs on the Colony. The Great Trek was a hard, dusty business. Families packed what would last and what would not split when a wheel dropped into a rut. The potjie qualified on both counts. At dusk the oxen were outspanned and a fire was scratched together from whatever the day had left lying about. Into the iron pot went the country itself. Springbok. Warthog. Guinea fowl. An old ox, if that was all the afternoon had offered. Bones stayed in, because bones thicken a pot. Vegetables followed if the land was kind. If it was not, there was meat, and time, and the particular quiet that settles when people are too tired to talk and not yet ready to sleep. They learned not to stir. This was not fussiness. It was sense. Meat and onion went to the bottom, where the heat lived. Hard roots next, the sort that take an age to give in. Softer things rode on top, where the steam could find them without turning them to mash. A lid went on and stayed on. Dutch and Malay spice found their way in, and so did the herbs a person could pinch from the roadside. A little wine or beer, if luck had been generous. Each layer kept its own character, sitting beside its neighbours for hours instead of being beaten into one brown stew. That is why a potjie is not quite a stew. A stew is mixed until it has one opinion. A potjie is allowed several. The pot did not remain the property of one language. African households traded for the iron because it outlasted clay and asked so little wood of a dry country. Maize porridge cooked in it. Game cooked in it. The same black belly stood over different fires, and nobody who has ever waited for a lid to come off needs a lecture about who invented hunger. By then the potjie was less a possession than a piece of common sense that happened to travel well. For a while it nearly disappeared, because Stoves arrived. The old pot was relegated to a barn, where useful things go to be forgotten by people who believe they have improved. Then, in the late 1970s, meat grew expensive and memory grew interesting. Magazines printed recipes. Neighbours remembered that a long cook could make a poorer cut taste as if it had always meant to be invited. The pot came back into the yard, not as a tool of survival this time, but as a reason to stay outside after the day’s work had finished. That is the part that lasted...........Kuier. You put the pot on early because haste is the enemy of it. Friends arrive with extra chairs that do not match. Someone cracks another beer. The fire talks in the way fires do, which is to say it snaps and settles and asks nothing clever of anyone. The lid stays shut. Most of the arguments stay shut with it, at least until the plates come out. Hours pass. Nobody is in a hurry, because the food has a long memory for impatience. When the lid is lifted at last, the whole place smells of smoke and onion and the particular kindness of having been left alone to get on with it. The iron still does what it did in 1652. It holds heat. Around it, people do what they have always done when a pot is slow and the evening is long. They sit. They talk. They wait, and find that waiting is not the least part of the meal.

It begins...

lol Lamola the fighter for poor people in the world,I hope he also tells the....the apartheid gvt never had any millionaire MP's ,the ANC all are billionaires,stealing the country into starvation

The South African Government's empowering programs aren't boding well for the country. A further 114 insolvencies have been recorded in August, taking the total to 1010 this year.

What happens on Chinese streets by Chinese police should not be censored by the rest of the world including social media. Chinese 🇨🇳 government and #XiJinPing really don't care about animals or people. Hope for #China is really almost naive. Chinese police are on the side of animal abusers, not on the side of Chinese against animal cruelty who suffer probably similar to dog on the street when they protest. We have the right to speak for Chinese against animal abuse, it's so easy for us. @realDonaldTrump Please gift #XiJinPing your historic #PACTAct so that he can copy and protect Chinese animals from sick #MadeInChina animal crush videos. cnn.com/2025/05/30/asi…

Bredasdorp-moord: Oproep vir strenger optrede maroelamedia.co.za/nuus/bred… via @maroelamedia

lol fok SA???????

We have such a fantastic country with such fantastic people,good heavens we must get rid off this gvt 🥇 BACK WITH GOLD. Tatjana Smith marked her return to competition with gold in the 50m breaststroke at the SA Short Course Championships. A winning start as she makes her comeback to the pool. #TeamSA #ForMyCountry

Its fascinating and mind blowing to see the hateful comments about this ,unbelievable how jealous other blacks are towards the zulu nation😆😆😆😆😆we all know why,@WanjiruNjoya @Will_Tanner_1 lol its crazy

No the king cares for the zulus.....thats what kings do ......end van prent,klaar gepraat

i just love this statement

A grown man fighting to stay in foreign land .

Every citizen that loves SA ,have to lift their bums and get to work,if Jacinta must help everyone,she will help no one,everyone must get to work