Just last week, the column was centred around the importance of going back to our communities and mentoring the black boy child. Little did I know that this week I will be mourning the death of the kind of man I spoke about in last week's column.

This week, I lost the man who took me under his wing and made the active choice to father me. He had no familial relation with me, we met in a barber shop in downtown Johannesburg 25 years ago. He took a liking to me when hearing me speak on anti-violence and gender-based violence (GBV), and as they would say, the rest is history...