Puvasha Naidoo

I did it - I still can’t believe it 🥹#teamvitality #teamvitalitywestville

@selemeng38 @pholosof @StandardBankZA me too! App and Internet banking are not working

@pholosof @StandardBankZA Have the same issue @StandardBankZA please resolve this

@StandardBankZA your app is not working, we can’t access it

5th marathon (3rd one for 2025!)

@BrentLindeque 💔 innocent furchild 😢

This is going to be hard to read. It was incredibly tough to write. And even more difficult to live through. But I don’t want you to focus on the hurt. Or the pain. Or the trauma. I want you to see the hope. And celebrate the incredible South Africans who are doing everything in their power to change the story. You see, we get to tell the stories of the helpers, the heroes and the healers. But many of these stories start from a place of deep trauma. Earlier this year, we partnered with Budget Insurance to do more. To go a little further. To personally visit organisations, charities and individuals. To tell their stories in a bigger way. And in the process, take a moment to thank them for the work they do. We reached out to our readers for nominations. And we were inundated. The series has already featured a few of these incredible stories. We have written about them. And featured them in my podcast. Yesterday, the team and I went to capture a few more. Some were about community, helping to rebuild when something is broken. Some were about kindness. And being there for one another, when we need it most. Some were deeply personal. I walked into an ECD creche to feature a mom, only to be met by her son, whose story had been featured on the Good Things Guy in 2023. It was all about how a random stranger literally saved his life during Loadshedding. Bryan is on oxygen 24 hours a day. Whenever we went into stage 6, he had to book himself into the hospital to survive. A reader, who wanted to stay anonymous, heard about his story and personally drove for an hour to deliver an inverter. To keep him alive when the lights went out. I had no idea the creche and his story were connected. I had never met him in person. I cried when I saw him. But there were also other moments that broke me. We visited a dog shelter that looks after pups who have been abused. Terribly abused. Chantelle, the owner, has such a passion for what she does. She wants people to know that pitbulls are not monsters. The people who put them through pain are. Her eyes lit up when she told me how some of these dogs had found their way to her. And how broken they were. But how now, even though they had seen the worst of humanity, they still somehow are filled with love. During our interview, Chantelle pointed to one of the pups who was playing with a big blue ball. Ethan. He was right behind us. And she explained that the ball had become a “security blanket” for the dog. It’s the thing that makes him feel safe. You could see the joy in him. He seemed happy. But just a couple of days before, he was in surgery to save his life after being raped by a person. Raped. By. A. Person. He is one of two dogs in her sanctuary that this has happened to. Chantelle then turned to me and said, “Some people believe that pitbulls are monsters, but when you see what these animals have been put through, who is the actual monster?” We also visited a baby home that Steven and Sharon have dedicated their lives to. They take in babies who have been removed from abusive situations. They currently have 9 little ones. One baby arrived at just 3 days old. They didn’t know if he would survive. He was born with Crystal Meth in his system. Another baby was left in a shack with just water. She was just a few weeks old. They have no idea for how long. Another who arrived with broken bones. Barely even 2 months old. And one who has cigarette burns all over his little body. He is just 4 months old. When I went to give him a hug, I could feel the bumps all over him. His plushy little pyjamas, bright in colour, didn’t hide the horror of what he had been through. For most of the day, I couldn’t hold back my tears. And neither could my team. We were all crying. Through every shoot. There is so much pain. And evil. And trauma in the world. But that is not the only story. That is not the end of the story. “In times of tragedy, we must look for the helpers.” Yesterday, the team and I met those heroes. But they are so much more than that. They are the lifelines. The ones who show up in the moments most people would rather turn away from. The ones who walk into the fire… not because they have to but because they can’t not. They are the everyday giants walking among us. The kind-hearted, fiercely brave South Africans who choose love in a country that has seen far too much hurt. They wipe tears that aren’t theirs. They rebuild things they didn’t break. And they carry stories heavy enough to crush most, and yet, they still stand tall. They are the reason I keep telling these stories. Yesterday broke me a little. I saw things I can’t unsee. Pain I wish I could unfeel. But I also saw something far more powerful: People who refuse to let the darkness win. People who fight for what is right. For justice. For each other. They don’t wear capes. They don’t have billboards. And most of the time, they don’t even get a thank you. But they are the reason this country hasn’t fallen apart. They are the helpers, yes. But also the healers. The fixers. The light bringers. The warriors of hope. And as long as they exist, as long as there are still people choosing compassion, choosing kindness, choosing to make just one life a little bit better… then I’ll keep going. We all will. This is how we change the story. One act. One person. One heart at a time. Thank you to every single helper, hero and healer. We see you. Okay. Love you. Bye.

@servesan Aaah thanks my friend 🫶

@Puvasha Wow this is awesome. Cheering you on 🥳

Patiently waited at my laptop this morning watching the clock countdown to 10am … 60 seconds later I was in … 5 min later I registered for the Ultimate Human Race … 2026 is going to be epic !

@FitMasi @ComradesRace Me me me ! It’s me!!!!!

Who will be running their first @ComradesRace in 2026?

IT'S GO TIME! 📢 General entries for the 2026 Comrades Marathon are openas of 10:00 AM (SAST) today, Monday, November 3, 2025! With more than 2,600 entries secured in the early window by the Green Number Club and CMA Members, the 22,000 limit is well on its way! The entry fees are as follows: · South African 2026 Entrants R1200 · Rest of African 2026 Entrants R2000 · International 2026 Entrants R4500 Runners can choose the option to pay the entry fee in one immediate instalment, or in two instalments: 50% on entering and the remaining 50% by the end of February 2026. (Note: The entry fee is waived completely for holders of 25 or more Comrades medals.) Another aid to runners who want to enter the race is the continuation of the Comrades Runners’ Relief Fund, an initiative that allows up to 1500 disadvantaged athletes to apply for a reduced entry fee of up to 50%. Terms and conditions apply, and more details are available on the official Comrades Marathon website. Secure your place in the 2026 Up Run by entering via EasyReg: 🔗 enter.comrades.com/comrades/entri… #ComradesMarathon #SkaFelaMoya #UpRun #TheUltimateHumanRace #ComradesMarathon2026 #Entries

Well hello there November ! Cup is full and I’m ready for the week ahead

@BrentLindeque And congratulations! 🥳

@BrentLindeque Don’t forget its Medal Monday!

Decided to skip “Ride Joburg” today and chose to rather sleep with my Orbea last night at Sun City. Like, literally. Almost in my hotel bed. So close. I think I’m officially a cyclist now. I digress. Jammer Wimpie. Woke up this morning and smashed a 45 kilometer ride. It’s called the “Kasi Ride” and it’s all about raising awareness for Mental Health. What a divine way to kick off a Sunday. Exercise rings closed for the day, now to work on closing my Mimosa rings. Never let a Monday ruin your Sunday. Okay. Love you. Bye. #SunCity #LoveEveryMoment #SunCityGMKasiRide #ImmaCyclistNow #GoodThingsOnaBike #Orbea #CycleLab

@BrentLindeque @dineshgovender But you still didn’t answer the question! 😉

@dineshgovender Dinesh. I can’t stop laughing. DEAD. 🤣😂

My Oura ring arrived this week. It's part of the new Vitality rewards program. They are going to be the first health insurer (in the world) to reward you for sleep. It's pretty rad. I sleep well. I am going to get all the things (the rewards). I'll be writing about it in a week (to give it a proper review), but I just showed one of my girlfriends and her first question was, "Does it vibrate?". I spat my champagne out. OUT. 🤣😂

@BrentLindeque @jj_jjopperman Brent I don’t need to express this enough what an amazing person you are and reading this broke me … it’s my greatest fear my son being bullied because he’s autistic and wow kids … some kids can be so mean as for your mum she deserves a Bells!

Between Facebook, LinkedIn and Twitter... I've received over 1,000 comments (and messages). All positive except for 2. The other guy deleted his... so that leaves just you. In a wave of positivity. In an outpouring of love, community and kindness, your comment is the only negative one. Says a lot more about you. Also men do cry. We have fucking tearducts for a reason.

Yesterday I sat in my car sobbing. And then again at a restaurant. And one more time at my desk last night (I was doing some emails before bed). This bullying story has triggered me so much. I know why. And I wanted to share my story with you. Layered with perspective. Mine. I was bullied. I have spoken about this before but maybe never to the extent of what I am about to tell you. Reliving this in my head has brought back so much trauma. It caused a 40-year-old man (who will still answer to 29) to sit in a restaurant with tears pouring down my face. I was so young. There were a few kids who really hated me. They didn’t like what was different about me. They didn’t understand it. But they didn’t like it. I was a little flamboyant. I didn’t like soccer. Or any sport really. My mannerisms weren’t manly enough. I was soft. Far too empathetic. Overly expressive. Dramatic. A faggot. I was also 6 or 7. There is a whole narrative about hate being a learnt behaviour. And a serious question as to why a kid feels so threatened by another kid who is a little different. Like where does that stem from? Also, where did they learn that word from? I used that word specifically because that is what they called me. There’s also a much more complex issue about identity. I was trying to figure out what was wrong with me. And the world was telling me what I was. And making me feel like that thing, that they could see, and I could feel, was the worst thing about me. I guess that is why many gay guys (and people in the LGBTQIA+ community) have such an awful relationship with guilt, shame and pain. We are born from it. Our velvet rage. I digress. Jammer Wimpie. The bullying was mild. A look. Flapping wrists (at me). Words. "It’s Adam and Eve, not Adam and Steve". You okes need new lines. Sticks and stones. A push here and there. Being excluded. Ostracized. And made to feel less than. So what. I was brave. On most days. On others, I faked a tummy ache and stayed in the sick bay. Or at home. But I got through it. Also, I need to add that not everyone treated me this way. I had really awesome friends. And bladdy fantastic teachers. Beautiful humans who protected me, as much as they could… until they couldn’t. It was a hot summer’s day. I was 10 or 11. I can’t exactly remember. It’s always 11, isn’t it? There I go again… I was on the soccer field. I was playing with ladybugs. Those yellow and black ones. I loved those things… they don’t seem to be around anymore. A group of kids made their way towards me. I didn’t think anything of it. Until I was pinned down to the ground. All of them. They held me down. And the girls started kissing me. With tongue. They had planned to teach the “fag” a lesson. I had never kissed anyone before. I was so confused. I was so young. I kept trying to get them off me. To stop. I was screaming at the same time. Just trying to get them to stop. They eventually did. But I guess my reaction wasn’t good enough. And that’s when a little bit of sexual assault turned into a full-blown assault. They started to kick and punch me. They beat me black and blue. Thankfully, they finally left me. Lying there on the ground. Bleeding. A broken little boy. When the teachers saw me, they phoned my mom immediately. She came to the school with the wrath of all the gods. My mom is a fucking lioness. Do not mess with her children. Any of them. You will see a different side to my kind, gentle, beautiful mom. She will end you. I am not entirely sure what happened behind the scenes but the school took the situation very seriously. Something happened with all the kids. And their parents. I was never bullied again. Not even a skeef look. It all stopped in its tracks. I think you can connect the dots as to why that video so triggered me. By that kid desperately trying to get away. To get help. To go home. But that’s not why I cried. You see, I phoned my mom yesterday to talk to her about what happened. And when I got off the phone, I realised how incredibly lucky I am to have the mom I do. She has always been in my corner. She has always had my back. She made me believe that I was braver, stronger and had more potential than I could have ever imagined. In a world that can be so tough, my mommy made me tougher. My social media feeds have been filled with other moms, and dads, and humans who are all speaking up against the bullying. And that’s what triggered me. I felt so alone on that hot day, left on the field, bleeding and broken. And I guess there have been other moments where that “aloneness” has crept in. That trauma. But what left me in tears yesterday was this realisation that I was never alone. That I have never been alone. I have my mom. And my friends. And my family. And my peers. And so do these kids who were bullied. ALL KIDS WHO ARE BULLIED. They have an army of people who care. You’ll notice I didn’t mention the school because I don’t believe this is a school-specific problem. Bullying happens everywhere. All the time. Even as grown-ups. And this is where I was going with all of this. If you’ve made it this far, then you’ve made it to the most important part. To anyone who is at the receiving end of bullying, you are not alone. You have a whole pack of lions ready to help you. And more than anything, I want you to know that you will get through this, and even though it may change you, you will be okay. And to the bullies… I hope one day you find the courage to look inward and understand the pain that made you want to hurt someone else. Because that’s what it is, isn’t it? Hurt people, hurting people. It doesn’t excuse it. Not even for a second, but maybe, just maybe, when you finally see the damage you’ve done, you’ll choose better. You’ll heal. You’ll grow. You’ll learn that kindness costs nothing but it can save everything. You see, that little boy didn’t stay broken. He grew up. Surrounded by kindness. He learnt that his softness wasn’t weakness. That his difference wasn’t danger. And that his empathy wasn’t something to be ashamed of. Those were the things that made him extraordinary. The very parts they tried to break became the parts that helped him heal others. And maybe that’s the point. Maybe the reason I cried wasn’t just because of the pain of what happened but because I can finally see the beauty that came from it. The love that surrounded me. The courage my mom taught me. The reminder that even when we might feel alone, bleeding and bruised, someone out there is roaring for us. Roaring for YOU. So if you’re that kid (or even that grown-up) who’s still trying to make sense of the hurt, please remember this: You are not broken. You are becoming. And one day, you’ll look back and realise that the thing they tried to silence was the thing that made you unstoppable. I think I just turned a trigger into a glimmer. Okay. Love you. Bye.

@Our_DA A huge shoutout to Councillor Smoh Xulu 🙌 She’s an absolute asset to @Our_DA and Ward 92 — never afraid to get her hands dirty, always communicates & even shows up at 9pm to assess issues herself! With all our recent water & power outages, she’s been phenomenal 👏💙

Some moments are so worth reliving 💕 @BrentLindeque @maddog_sa

@BrentLindeque I saw your posts that morning and I was like wow universe @BrentLindeque is right here what’s the chance of meeting him- you my friend are a special soul and I hope you never ever forget the impact you have on so many ! Lots of love 💕

It was so special meeting you @Puvasha! Well done on your run!!!! ❤️

I left home feeling very guilty for leaving my family and travelling to run the Cape Town Marathon — but even without the race, I gained so much more. I met incredible people, felt the gees & came home with my cup overflowing 🫶Bonus: meeting @BrentLindeque and @maddog_sa

Thank you, @Vitality_SA and @dineshgovender for recognising all the training and dedication — even without the @SanlamCapeTown marathon, our effort still counted! 💪💕

Sad about today’s marathon cancellation To all our incredible Vitality runners, you will still get your 3,000 Vitality points - we know you prepared hard! And Team Vitality members will receive 25% cashback on their race entry. Upload race entry proof: discovery.co.za/portal/individ…

@JuanitaKhumalo @Somi_Thinga It would be way more than 24 000 taking into account volunteers, hydration stations and of course the supporters and risk losing the chance to be a major especially as you highlighted if a runner(s) was injured or died. Some banners were dropped imagine one collapsing on a runner

@Somi_Thinga Precisely. Cape Town wind really doesn’t play. It’s such a tough call for organizers, but safety has to come first. It’s better to deal with disappointment than potential tragedy involving 24000 people. No event is worth risking lives or reputational damage.

If the Sanlam Cape Town Marathon had gone ahead and people got injured or worse, lives lost, the conversation would’ve been, “The winds were so strong,why didn’t they cancel? They knew it was dangerous to race in such weather”. It’s such a difficult position to be in.