“Today, I want to share a deeply personal story about friendship, love, and the realities of life that many don’t see behind the scenes.

 

 

It all started back in 1997 when I was performing the story of Mary and Joseph at Swan Christian School.

 

That was long ago, but it marked the beginning of a journey filled with lessons and unforgettable moments.

 

There was a mother named Mary—my mama Mary—who inspired me in ways I never imagined.

 

After being kicked out of a dance college, I pursued drama at the Mathemat Laboratory.

 

There, a friend and I often partied at a place called Hora Cafe, right next door to SAB World of Beer.

 

One day, a friend told me about a movie coming out featuring an actor playing a role unlike anything I’d seen.

 

That was my first glimpse beyond the world of theater into the vast realm of film.

 

The first time I met my friend was at Hora Cafe around 2003 or 2004.

 

 

We reconnected years later on the set of a production alongside legendary actors like Brian and Matame.

 

The experience was unforgettable, filled with fun, love, and the guidance of an amazing director, Donovan Marsh.

 

Later, we worked together on a film called “The Number,” directed by Kumatavar.

 

We spent nine intense weeks filming, portraying the harsh realities of prison life in Paulsmore.

 

An actual prisoner, who ran “The Number 28,” guided us through the authentic experience.

 

Our film even screened at the Toronto International Film Festival, a proud moment for all involved.

 

Despite our busy lives, we often joked about meeting famous personalities like Drake, but that never happened.

 

Instead, we met music director Yadri, who shoots many popular music videos.

 

Eventually, our paths crossed again on the fresh TV show “The River,” where we enjoyed working together in Pretoria.

 

Pretoria, my hometown, became a stage for friendship and laughter.

 

From Malifu to Dimo, and Macabaza, we shared moments that felt like family.

 

My friend Presley and I fought a lot.

 

I don’t understand people who never argue with those they love.

 

 

If you say you love someone, love them fully and be there for them through every challenge.

 

Sometimes, you have to tell your loved ones to take care of themselves.

 

For example, if someone is out drinking until 5 AM but has children waiting at home, it’s time for tough love.

 

Presley and I argued about everything—love, work, time, professionalism, children, wives, family, and money.

 

Once, I drove all the way from Johannesburg to Pretoria just to pick him up because he was causing trouble.

 

That’s how deep our friendship was—filled with ups and downs, but always real.

 

I once heard a podcast talking about the struggles of earning little money while facing domestic violence.

 

That energy of hardship often transfers to women and affects families deeply.

 

Presley and I fought about these issues because they mattered to us.

 

 

Our love for each other was real, even when we disagreed.

 

The last time I saw Presley, we were doing a voice-over together.

 

We shared moments of laughter, connection, and even kisses—a genuine expression of the deep bond we shared.

 

Our affection surprised many, but it was simply how we showed love.

 

In Africa, love is not just spoken—it is lived and felt deeply.

 

Friends should be honest and tell each other when it’s time to go home and care for their families.

 

I loved my friend like a brother.

 

We had jokes, shared tears, and supported each other through the toughest times.

 

Above all, we believed in being real—not pretending or living fake lives.

 

We portray real stories on TV, but real life in Africa is even more raw and beautiful.

 

This is life, this is love, and we must show it authentically.

 

In a world where social media often masks reality, our story reminds us to stay true.

 

Friendship isn’t just about good times; it’s about standing firm through struggles.

 

 

It’s about having the courage to fight, forgive, and love unconditionally.

 

If you truly love someone, be there at every hour of their life.

 

Don’t let pride or fear stop you from showing your heart.

 

The lessons I learned from my friendship with Presley are ones I carry every day.

 

They teach us that love is messy, complicated, but ultimately worth it.

 

So, to all my brothers and sisters in Africa and beyond—cherish your friendships.

 

Speak your truth, fight for your loved ones, and never settle for fake connections.

 

Because in the end, real love and real life are what truly matter.”

 

– Warren Masemola