BONA, derived from the Zulu greeting to a multitude of people, 'Sanibona' - directly translated as 'we see you' - forms the premise of this publication, by Tebo Mpanza
“It’s not a round,” Joel declared as he, Joey, and I took our seats at The Walmer Castle in Notting Hill on a Monday night a few weeks back. I barely finished asking, “Boys, what are you having?” before he shut it down. And of course, the three of us lost it.
We hadn’t found the time to catch up properly since I moved to London back in July last year, so we had a lot to reflect on. And somehow, “It’s not a round” was the perfect starting point. It took us back to our different starting points—two boys from Nottingham, one from Umlazi, all sitting here years later, now all living in London. It was sobering, but not embarrassing. Honest, but not heavy. No egos. No pretence. Just reality. Meanwhile, Joey had a bottle in his pocket and kept topping up his glass. You can’t make this stuff up.
“It’s not a round” is crazy because it speaks to so much. It speaks to being in your 30s, sitting in a bougie pub where a pint costs a small mortgage, and realising that no, tonight is not a round. “I’ll get mine, you boys get yours,” Joel said. It speaks to the fact that our Monzo bank accounts can’t just be casually open, freely, on a random Monday night in February. I mean, how many times have you felt this but went ahead with the round anyway—only to pay the real price for the rest of the month?
“It’s not a round” is exposing. It reminds you where you thought you’d be by now, the vision you had in your 20s. It’s a mirror held up to the dream you chased, making you quietly ask yourself, “Was it worth it?” It exposes vulnerabilities, the comparisons you make, the areas where you fall short. When people ask, “What are you up to these days?” it’s difficult to say, “I’m not sure.” Especially if you’re a believer. “I’m unsure” sounds like you’ve lost perspective. Like you failed. Like you’re not yourself anymore. Like you have regrets, doubts, fears.
“It’s not a round” can be a marker for friendships that shifted—not because of distance, but because one party could no longer keep up. You started drinking less, eating better, pursuing your faith more—then suddenly, hanging out felt awkward. The jokes didn’t hit the same. The dynamic changed. And maybe that’s fine. Maybe that’s growth.
But “it’s not a round” can also be a wake-up call. A reminder that you got left behind, and this can be hard. They got married. Moved away. Bought a house. Travelled. Applied for the job and got it. Started the business. And you’re still living at home, still in the same old patterns, still circling around the same conversations. And there’s only so much circling one can do.
Your day-to-day, your ordinary, can feel embarrassing sometimes, so you back off. Maybe they did too. Maybe that’s why they struggle to celebrate you now. Why you don’t hear from them anymore. I know this can be difficult to comprehend, hard to accept, but use it. Use it to sharpen up. To dig deeper. To read more. To cancel Netflix for a couple of months. To work late nights sometimes. To make different choices.
The three of us go way back. Our friendship has had seasons—times when the group chat was on fire, when we hung out all the time. Times when life pulled us in different directions. But no matter what, we always came back to moments like this. The kind where you laugh until you cry, and because we’re in our 30s now and don’t have to prove anything, we may have even shed a real tear or two reflecting on the journey, the wins, the losses. We talked about the illusion of creative pursuits sometimes—how we can spend years chasing our passions, refusing to be boxed in. But at some point, reality comes for us. The system rewards stability. While we were figuring things out, some of our peers were securing foundations—jobs, pensions, homes. And suddenly, you’re in your mid-30s wondering if you played it right. If you’re 10 years behind. If you should have done things differently.
Would we change it, though? I don’t know. Speaking for myself—maybe one or two things. But there wasn’t a sense of regret. Not fully. Still, we wish someone had pulled us aside in our 20s and said, “Do your thing, but also… buy some stocks and shares.”
Truth is, there’s responsibility in “it’s not a round.” A delayed gratification. A bigger picture. Something to look forward to. And yes, some days now, it feels frustrating to wait. But it’ll be a round next time.
So much wisdom… it’s not a round!
It’s not a round !