Ndofaya:Pick the Stone That Speaks to You

Truthfully? I think this hike knocked the snark right out of me.

I sat down to write about the Ndofaya Hiking Trail — fully intending to dish out my usual snark (because yes, it’s a public service... and also, emotional vulnerability makes me itchy).

But honestly? It just didn’t land this time.

Turns out, this experience hit so deep, even my inner cynic had to take a seat.

So give me a sec to get a little real. (I promise not to make it awkward — although, knowing me, we’re probably halfway there already.)

Ndofaya had been on my list for a while, so I was very excited when it popped up on one of my group hikes.

We were directed to park near Chillas Restaurant in Soweto, where we met our hosts: the charismatic Masike and his trusty sidekicks, Bafana and Lebo.

From there, we set off through the still-sleepy streets of Meadowlands, making our way toward Fleurhof Dam.

Masike warned that when we reached the dam, we might witness traditions — rituals, spiritual practices — things that could make outsiders a little uneasy.

What we found were just a few men, deep in quiet, personal prayer in the water. Nothing shocking — just deeply human.

I could not even take photos. Some moments are not meant to be captured, just honoured.

A quiet awe was settling over us.

Somewhere along the trail, Masike told us to pick up a stone that "spoke to us." For later, he said.

We wandered through golden sands and shallow, glimmering pools — chemical runoff, probably, but it looked like liquid gold.

We eventually gathered around a pile of stones. Masike delivered a poignant message — then asked us to stand quietly for a few minutes, thinking about what we wanted for ourselves.

And one by one, we placed our stones on the pile — a wish, a prayer, whispered only to ourselves. It was a moment so raw, so charged with meaning, I had to fight hard to keep the tears back.

Another surprise - our guides produced snacks. Small things. Big heart.

And just when we thought the surprises were done, we stumbled across the golden dunes — mine dumps, really, but in that light? They curved and stretched endlessly like something out of a dream. Surreal, majestic, and utterly unexpected.

On the walk back to Chillas, not a single person passed without greeting us. Strangers stopped to say hello, to thank us for being there, to ask how we’d enjoyed Soweto.

It didn’t feel like a visit, it felt like a homecoming.

Masike led us to a little house — and bought us each an ice lolly. No fuss. Just genuine, quiet kindness that hit harder than any big gesture ever could.

Further on, we bumped into the young soccer players we had seen earlier, practicing on what could only very generously be called a “field."

Looking over at the bare patch of earth, Masike had been visibly upset.“ They shouldn’t have to play like this,” he had said.

He and the other guides had spoken passionately about their dreams: building proper facilities, giving kids something bigger to aspire to — something that could pull them away from the streets. But, as always, the dream runs up against the same wall: money.

We walked the same way as the kids for a while, Their spirit was infectious.

Bafana

We wrapped it all up at Chillas with some 'kota' — basically a glorious, messy Sloppy Joe with a twist. And — just like the hike, the snacks, and the ice lollies — it was included in the price.

We were ready to pay extra. But no — it was part of the package.

At that point, I told Masike he seriously needed a business manager, because they were practically giving the experience away.

Ice Lollies

He just shrugged and said, "We just want people to come and feel the place."

Meanwhile, I was mentally drafting his invoice on his behalf.

It was so generous it almost hurt.

So you see, sometimes you go on a hike and you’ll see some scenic moments, climb some mountains and enjoy nature. But on this hike, you end up walking straight into a reminder of who we are. Not the headlines. Not the drama. The heart of this country. The spirit that refuses to quit. The absolute, undeniable beauty of our people, our land, and our stories.

Masike

Ndofaya wasn’t just a trail. It was a full-body and soul experience. It made me remember why I believe in us so fiercely.

So yes, this one’s about gratitude. For a place, the people who live there and the chance to see it, feel it, be a tiny part of it for a few golden hours.

And if that’s not worth trying to remain snark-free for a minute, I don’t know what is.

RATING

AREA: Soweto

COST

R200 (includes hike, snacks, ice lolly, and lunch and soft drinks — a steal)

As a group, we did the only thing that was right, and each put in a little extra — a small way to say thank you for something that felt priceless.

DIFFICULTY: Not difficult, but not flat either.

LENGTH: 6.5 km

HIGHLIGHTS

It was so much more than a hike. It was a privilege.

ABLUTIONS

At Chillas

AMENITIES:

Chillas Restaurant is your start and end point.

NOTE TO SELF

Never forget: we are made of magic.

Also: someone find Bill Gates — we’ve got dreams worth backing.

ON A FINAL NOTE

This — right here — is why I write.

If there was ever a story worth telling, it’s this one.

These men are offering unforgettable experiences for next to nothing — not to get rich, but to bring people into the township, to shift perceptions, and maybe, just maybe, open doors for the next generation.

Don’t let fear or hesitation hold you back. I have never felt more welcomed, more safe, or more moved by the quiet, steady warmth of a community that didn’t owe me anything and still gave me everything.

SOLO OR NOSOLO

NOSOLO.