South Africa Sessions: Staring Down Death Twice in One Week ft. Khaya Dlanga

Khaya Dlanga was 41 years old before he realized he was supposed to still be alive. He had set his own expiration date at that age—his grandfather died at 41, his father at 26—and built his entire adult life around the assumption he wouldn't make it past that mark. He didn't marry because he expected to die young. He didn't plan for children. He wrote books in part to leave something behind. Then 41 came and went, and Dlanga found himself in a disorienting position: alive, with no blueprint for what came next.

The Motorcycle Accident That Confirmed the Pattern

Dlanga described a motorcycle crash that happened two years ago, a day after his birthday. He was riding on a road near an informal settlement when a car pulled onto his lane and stopped. He swerved, locked the rear brake, and went into a somersault—"summersault one, summersault two"—before landing on his head and back in oncoming traffic. He passed out. When he came to, he was lying on hot tar, his bike embedded in the driver's side of the car. The driver got out and asked what he was thinking. Dlanga's first instinct was to check his body: feet moved, hands moved, back twisted without pain. He got up. Two days later, he was in the back of an Uber when another car rear-ended him, aggravating a nerve from the crash. The cumulative effect was a pinched nerve and a lingering numbness.