By Kojo Richman

It was supposed to be just a business trip. Fly in, cover the JCI Conference, create content, fly out. But Durban had other plans for me. What was meant to be routine work turned into something far more meaningful — filled with spontaneous moments, unlikely connections, and a deeper sense of presence.

Morning Rituals and Instant Prayers

Every morning began with a swim. It was my way of grounding myself before the day’s storm of panels, interviews, and edits. One morning, mid-swim, I caught myself thinking, “I wish I could play soccer on the beach.”

Not five minutes later, I spotted a group of guys setting up a game. I laughed, “God, you move fast.”

I asked the coach if I could join. He said yes. I greeted the players. No one responded. At first, I thought they were being cold until I realized they were deaf and mute.

We played anyway. No shouting, just movement. It was one of the most beautiful, human things I’ve ever experienced. A reminder that presence is louder than language.

The Chaos of Creation

Midway through editing, our laptop broke. Cracked screen. Wouldn’t charge. Panic.

We bootstrapped the rest. Sellotape. Borrowed chargers. File transfers through any means possible. We hustled and we delivered.

That’s the rhythm of creators. Adapt. Improvise. Tell the story anyway.

Evenings on the Golden Mile

Each evening, I walked the Durban promenade from South Beach to Suncoast. The air smelled of sea salt, curry, and roasted mealies. Couples sat on benches eating ice cream. Kids raced up and down the walkways. Occasionally, a Zulu rickshaw puller trotted by in full regalia.

Durban holds a kind of lived-in beauty. A quiet chaos softened by an ocean breeze.

Malume Peter and the Wisdom of Strangers

One night, I met a car guard named Malume Peter Gumede. After pointing me to the best nyama mhlongo (steamed sheep brain) I’ve ever had…spicy, tender, unforgettable — he walked me through some of the city’s rougher edges.

“You’re safe. You’re with me,” he said. “My son is your age.”

I replied, “Malume, I’m in Africa. I have no reason to be scared of my own people.”

He smiled and left me with quiet wisdom I’m still unpacking.

Stillness on the Water

On my final night, I took a sunset boat cruise from Wilson’s Wharf. No loud music. No crowd. Just me and the golden blur of the skyline melting into the water.

Sometimes silence speaks the loudest.

Final Reflections

I stayed in a small three-star hotel above the sea. Every night, the waves whispered stories. Every morning, they reminded me that even in the grind, there’s grace.

Durban gave me footage, yes. But more than that, it gave me feeling. And sometimes, that’s the real content.

About the author

Kojo Richman is a Johannesburg-based visual storyteller, cultural strategist, and founder of Sankofa Collective. As a creator building his 1%, he documents Africa’s soul through business, lifestyle, travel, and events using words, film, and fashion to spotlight untold stories, authentic connections, and the beauty in the everyday.