Lesotho’s frozen Maluti Mountains is home to Club Maluti – a rustic, analogue sanctuary where generations of Witsies have found lifelong bonds and adventure on its slopes.
Founded in 1968, Club Maluti remains the cradle of African snow sports.
A nearly 60-year partnership with Wits Snow Ski Club turns the remote mountain cabin into an iconic student rite of passage.
The hand-built, member-run lodge offers an analogue escape where phone screens give way to fireside traditions.
Up at 3,200 metres in the Maluti Mountains, where sub-zero air bites your cheeks and river gorges freeze into solid glass, sits a rustic timber lodge. Its living heartbeat the generations of snow-seekers that visit during the colder months. Tucked away in Lesotho, ten minutes down the pass from Afriski, Club Maluti (Club M) is a place where city stress dies on the switchbacks and generations of Witsies have found a second home.
Stepping through the timber door of Club Maluti after the 5-hour drive up from Johannesburg, the first thing that hits is not the cold; it is the immediate warmth of woodsmoke, room-wide laughter, and decades of lived history. Shedding my heavy winter coat as the sound of music hums through the room, I realise I haven’t just entered a cabin; I’ve stepped into a living time capsule and close-knit community.
How a crazy idea built a legacy
Sitting near the fireplace listening to older members share stories over cold beers, the roots of the place come into sharp focus. The story began in the mid-1960s with Syd Chaplin, who ran pony treks in the region before establishing Oxbow Lodge near the Malibamat’so River. Looking to draw winter crowds to the frozen highlands, Chaplin connected with Phillip Lloyde, a ski enthusiast, alongside Joburg-based friends Brian de la Harpe and Stan Flemming.
The four friends saw the snowy Maluti peaks as an ideal and natural playground for winter sports. Driven by a shared love for skiing and working through official channels, they secured permission from King Moshoeshoe II of Lesotho. They signed a 100-year lease on the land, under the strict condition that no one could profit from the club, before officially forming Club Maluti. What followed in 1967 was endless weekend work parties where members hauled timber up unpaved tracks; they completed the original A-frame in April 1968.
When their initial slope proved too sunny, local mine manager Keith Whitelock pointed them ten kilometres east to the Mahlasela Bowl, a cold, shaded natural amphitheatre. It proved to be the finest natural slope in Lesotho, establishing the cradle of African snow sports. Throughout the 1970s and 80s, South African families crossed the border to escape city life, skiing, ice-skating on frozen gorges, and dancing on lodge tables late into the night.
Original A-frame building during winter. Photo by: Daniella Ripamonti
When campus met the mountain
Walking through the cabin, I quickly notice how deeply Wits University is woven into the floorboards. In 1984, Wits student Ivan van Eck saw a newspaper photo of someone ice-skating in Lesotho. Entranced, van Eck drove up to investigate, fell in love with the place, and founded the Wits Snow Ski Club (WSSC) to bring campus along.
Van Eck eventually took over ski rentals and set up makeshift rope tows at the club in 1991. However, his push to create commercial ski packages directly violated the King’s non-profit mandate, famously leading to his deportation by Lesotho border officials in 1992 for operating a business without a hotel licence.
Meanwhile, through the late 1980s and 90s, Club M member Ernesto Casserino conducted feasibility and environmental studies with the Lesotho government. His work laid the groundwork for fellow members Graham Joyce, Oliver Schwankhart, and Peter Pyper to partner with Wessel Bosman and open Afriski resort in 2000.
Through changing resort developments and shifting border regulations over the decades, the bond between WSSC and Club M remained untouched, creating a bridge between varsity life and the peaks of Lesotho. Former Club M Chairman Mehow Granicki explained that this pipeline is what makes the club unique: “If you get involved with Wits Ski Club, you’re always welcome to continue [as a full member] at Club Maluti after you finish your studies. Your varsity mates become your winter mates.”
Archive newspaper article from 1984 that made Evan van Eck go to Lesotho and later establish the Wits Snow Ski Club.
The shift to boardsand living walls
Standing in front of photo archives from the 80s and 90s, I watched the club’s visual story unfold on its lounge walls. The black-and-white photos of the 70s, the bright clothes of the 80s, and the rise of snowboarding on the continent in the 90s.
“The students are a great litmus test,” Granicki noted. “They come like every generation with their music, quirks, and ideologies. The club absorbs, welcomes, and adapts. We had electro, now it’s drum & bass. We charged camera batteries, now cell phones, but it’s still the same sound system, and it’s still the same generator.”
When snowboarding exploded internationally in the late 80s, students brought back overseas VHS tapes, cut a window into an A-frame wall, mounted a monitor, and looped snowboard videos. Student energy brought freeride trick culture, vibrant gear, and fresh music to the slopes.
Today, almost every member snowboards. The communal shed is packed with shared boards and boots, keeping snow sports accessible for students. Down at Afriski, supportive members help newcomers set up their gear and carve their first turns.
The rituals that build a family
Experiencing the lodge firsthand reveals how much care keeps it running. Completely member-run, the property features the main A-frame lounge, the timber B-frame bunkhouse, and the Park Home sleeping quarters kept warm by anthracite stoves.
Every couch and timber beam represents collective effort. As Granicki reflected: “Each building had an era, a crew, a mission.” From wrap-around seating to the wood-fired hot tub steaming under sub-zero skies, everything was hand-built during voluntary off-season work parties. At the heart of daily life are Basotho hosts Maskok and Ntja Sepatla. Living on site, Maskok lights the fires before dawn while Ntja maintains the generator and water systems.
Access remains strictly word-of-mouth through member referrals. Every trip kicks off with Friday night introductions around the fire, where guests share their names, trip count, and a claim to fame before receiving a mandatory weekend nickname.
“That drive and weekend in the mountains bonds you in such a healthy way,” Granicki explained. “By maintaining rituals, we maintain culture across generations.”
Jason Roberts DJing in A-Frame. Photo by: Daniella Ripamonti
The soul of Club M
For Vishaylin Mahadeo, who joined WSSC in 2011, the lodge became his anchor: “It’s home to me; it’s my family, my safe space. When going through a difficult time, my first thought is, ‘let’s go to the mountain.’ I have snowboarded everywhere in the world, and this mountain is still so special to me. My university experience was created through Ski Club; I even extended my degree just because I loved it so much!”
Granicki, who first visited as a matric student, feels that same pull: “Club M is home to misfits, geniuses, daredevils, and lost souls [who are] funny, beautiful, and live for the moment… My favourite personal memory is meeting my wife up there. Our adventure began from loving winter and the outdoors.”
In a world driven by screens, Club M remains fiercely analogue.
“It represents freedom, exploration, and self-discovery. You’re in the middle of two mountains, under stars, in a cabin when it’s snowing. My hope is that it remains a time capsule that forces you to be more of yourself, having fun, being human. Here’s to the snow!”
Archive newspaper from 1978 showing members broom balling on the iced river.
FEATURED IMAGE: Photo of Club M members at Afriski. Photo by: Daniella Ripamonti
Seven months after her precautionary suspension, former Wits Sociology Head of Department Professor Srila Roy faces an internal university disciplinary hearing set for September 15
Former Sociology Head of Department Professor Srila Roy will appear before a formal Wits disciplinary hearing on September 15, 2026.
Head of the School of Social Sciences, Professor Lorena Núñez Carrasco, confirmed that internal proceedings remain ongoing and an outcome will take time.
Roy remains under institutional restrictions that prevent her from speaking publicly or publishing material regarding the ongoing case.
Former Head of Sociology Department Professor Srila Roy will face an internal university disciplinary hearing on September 15, 2026, seven months after her precautionary suspension.
Professor Srila Roy. Photo: The University of the Witwatersrand
The hearing date was confirmed by Head of the School of Social Sciences, Professor Lorena Núñez Carrasco, in response to written enquiries about Roy’s employment status and the progress of internal proceedings.
While questions surrounding Roy’s permanent standing at Wits have circulated since her suspension in February, the university confirmed that internal processes have not yet concluded.
“The disciplinary process has not concluded, the hearing will in fact only be held on the 15th of September, [and] even then, the final resolution will take some time,” Núñez Carrasco stated in an email response.
She added that until the matter is officially resolved, Roy is restricted from making public statements or publishing material concerning the case.
Roy was placed on precautionary suspension in February 2026 following public backlash over remarks posted on social media regarding South African work ethic amidst parliamentary discussions on foreign academics in higher education.
The post drew swift condemnation from student leadership, the South African Sociological Association (SASA), and members of parliament. Roy subsequently resigned as Head of Department, leading to formal university disciplinary procedures.
Although Parliament’s Portfolio Committee on Higher Education previously called for her dismissal, Wits University maintained that any institutional outcome would depend strictly on the completion of its formal internal processes.
With the hearing scheduled for mid-September, the final determination on Roy’s future academic standing at Wits remains pending.
FEATURED IMAGE: Graphic showing silhouette of a woman by a calendar marking September 15 2026. Designed by: Daniella Ripamonti
The clean girl aesthetic whispers, but creative makeup is yelling: “I’m back, bitches!”
The ‘clean girl’ aesthetic is losing its grip on the beauty industry.
Colourful and experimental makeup is taking over.
Younger generations are redefining beauty by making their own rules.
For the past few years, the ‘clean girl’ aesthetic has dominated beauty culture. The same brushed-up and gelled-down brows. The same ‘doughnut’ glazed skin. The same ‘strawberry’ barely there blush. Somewhere between the fourth layer of skincare and the third swipe of clear lip gloss, the aesthetic has become less of a trend, and more of a uniform of conformity. If you doomscroll for more than ten minutes, you will start to notice that everyone looks eerily similar. An almost identical standard that looks a lot like past beauty ideals rather than dismantling them.
The clean girl was everywhere. She woke up at 5.a.m., drank freshly juiced organic greens, and slicked back her hair into a definitive, carefully curated bun. This was meant to look like it took her 5 minutes to get ready, when in reality it took twenty. Her skin seemed perfectly luminescent, and her hair stayed stuck down in place.
But, the wind has changed speed, and the tides have turned over. The bun has started to loosen. The blush is bolder, eyeshadow is brighter, and highlighter is blinding, once again.
Welcome to the death of the clean girl. May she rest in pieces.
As the years pass and the trend finally fades away, people are moving away from this carefully designed idea of what beauty should be and is turning towards makeup, hair, and style that is louder, messier, and more personal.
Makeup artist, Tylar Booysen, looking at herself in the mirror. Photo: Kerese Govender
The clean girl aesthetic is more than just a simple makeup look. It became a must to follow. The fake freckles and dewy skin are just surface level. It represents a specific image of femininity. Makeup stopped being loud and proud and instead, became something meant to be minimal, polished, and controlled. Everything about this aesthetic is meant to appear effortless. Yet, here’s the gag: there is nothing effortless about it. To achieve this standard, expensive, extensive beauty routines are required.
The clean girl disguised beauty conformity as self-care. Individualism and self-expression exited the group chat.
But now, they’re back! Better than ever.
Graphic eyeliner is escaping its assigned constraints. Colour combinations that have never been thought of before are being invented. Shimmer is showing up in places that shimmer has never been invited to before.
While the clean girl encouraged people to blend in, the maximalist queen steps in and demands to be seen and heard.
Close up of lip products and cigarette butts with lipstick stains. Photo: Kerese Govender
Makeup artists that have contributed to the resurgence of creativity in 2026 are Ngozi Edeme, better known by her online persona PaintedbyEsther, and Sophia Sinot.
Edeme’s signature excessive use of blush and colourful shimmers had the entire beauty industry trying to recreate her looks. She has become a significant participator in Tyla’s current branding for A*POP, from the bright eyeshadows to princess pink blush, body shimmer and neon wigs. It is becoming increasingly easy to spot a look created by Edeme.
Zara Larsson’s Midnight Sun era is also instantly recognisable: what started with a poor PicsArt dolphin edited alongside Larsson’s 2017 hit Symphony has resulted in one of the most iconic popstar rebrandings of the 2020s. Together, Larsson and Sinot have brought back the dazzle, shimmer and shine which pop stars used to be known for. Every look incorporates a range of colour combos, gleaming glitter, and rhinestones lingering close by.
These perspectives have inspired people to look at makeup as less of natural beauty and more as a way of creatively contributing to one’s individual style in the boldest way possible. An eye can become a canvas, a face something to experiment on. Lipstick becomes a statement, and eyeshadow commands attention. The rules of makeup are changing. A look can be inspired by anything: paintings, music, subcultures. One day, it can be punky smudged eyeliner. The next, it can be as colourful and dramatic as drag. It does not demand consistency or structure. Instead, it pushes you into not choosing one aesthetic for the rest of your life. You are allowed to do soft glam on Tuesday and the furthest thing from natural on Thursday.
The most notable thing about the shift towards creative beauty is that it is unapologetically visible. For years, makeup trends have been obsessed with making beauty invisible. No-makeup meant using makeup, while pretending you didn’t. Creative makeup does the complete opposite; it looks like time, effort, and like someone sat in front of a mirror for two hours deciding what colour goes where. Creativity exists without apologising for being there.
The reality is that beauty trends have always been telling us what to do. Your eyebrows should be thicker, no, thinner. Blush belongs on your nose or does it? Everyone is expected to change their style. The clean girl aesthetic was just the latest trend in beauty’s long history of this phenomenon. Creative makeup represents something different, but it is not completely free from trends. The internet has a peculiar ability to turn individuality into another categorical trend for people to follow. Give the internet a few months, and there will be a ‘correct’ way to be creative. But for now, it is refreshing to see people figure out their personal style.
However, we have to be realistic. The clean girl is not being buried next to the Tumblr girl or the 2016 baddie just yet. There will always be people who prefer a classic slick back bun. The issue lies with the idea that this is the only correct option. That frizzy hair is unacceptable. That the afro must be ‘neatly’ combed back instead of being free, beautiful as it is. Creative beauty is not here to replace but to rebuild a room for more. For the person who sees beauty as what it is: a form of expression.
Perhaps we are tired of being told what is acceptable and what is not. Every week, there is a new product to purchase. Every month, there is a new trend to follow. Every year, there is a new version of yourself to become. Creative beauty says, “Hell no!” It says that beauty does not have to be subtle, invisible, or effortless. Beauty is allowed to simply be fun.
The clean girl may still be alive somewhere in the world, but elsewhere the creative queens have just unboxed a new neon eyeshadow pallete.
Tylar Booysen showcasing her makeup look. Photo: Kerese Govender
FEATURED IMAGE: Close up of creative makeup look on Tylar Booysen. Photo: Kerese Govender
A 12-year-old who never let go of her dream and is now a household name.
After two decades of chasing news, Chriselda Lewis is back in the classroom, now chasing assignment deadlines. Wits University was always her dream institution, but her parents could not afford to pay for the fees, so now she is paying her own way.
Born and bred in Mthata, Eastern Cape, where opportunities are scarce, Lewis was fortunate that her primary school came to her rescue.
“I was told that I was a shy kid; however, at the age of 12 years old there was a television scout that came to my school. My teacher selected me to become a children’s show presenter on Transkei Broadcasting Corporation.”
The moment she stood in front of the camera, she knew exactly what she wanted to be: “I liked the lights, I liked the camera, and I thought this is exactly what I’m going to become.”
Chriselda at the Drum Room, Wits Department. Photo: Dikeledi Ramabula
Lewis completed her undergraduate studies in 2002 at Border Technikon, now known as Walter Sisulu University. After completing her studies, she began her career as an intern at The Sowetan in 2003.
“Working at The Sowetan was very challenging, as it was where I applied everything I had learned in tertiary education. It was also exciting because I had the opportunity to work with veteran journalists who had worked during the apartheid era, such as John Dludlu,” she said.
‘While I may not remember the first story I worked on at The Sowetan, I do remember cracking my first big story in 2004. One of them was the kidnapping and murder of university student Leigh Matthews,” she says.
As her career progressed from The Sowetan, she went on to work at the South African Press Association, followed by Talk Radio 702, then the SABC, where she made her first television appearance on SABC Africa.
In 2023, Lewis won the Journalist of the Year award in the Television: In-Depth/ Features/ Interviews category. Other career highlights include her coverage of the fall of Robert Mugabe in Zimbabwe, the Oscar Pistorius trial and reporting on the earthquake in Türkiye-Syria.
Lewis always wanted to return to school, but never got the opportunity because her work life is demanding:
“As I speak to you, I’m in Bloemfontein to cover the memorial service of the police officers whose bodies were found in the Hennops River. Due to workload and insane working hours, I just never thought I’d find the opportunity to go back to school”.
Lewis says despite having 22 years of experience in her field, it doesn’t hurt to equip herself with better skills so that one day she can be a leader in the newsroom, and to do so, she must equip herself with the necessary qualifications.
But being back in the classroom hasn’t been easy. “If you give me a report I can do it for you, if you want me on TV, I can do it. I’ve moved into a different terrain doing academic writings which is a scary process,” she says.
When asked to share wisdom for aspiring journalists, Chriselda says, “This is not child’s play! Journalism is hard work; it is long hours. You are not going to survive if you don’t love this job. You have to love what you do!”
FEATURED IMAGE: Chriselda Lewis standing outside of the Wits Centre for Journalism. Photo: Dikeledi Ramabula
Miss Universe 2019, Zozibini Tunzi, engages with Witsies in an online webinar series discussing topics of women empowerment, strong leadership and overcoming life’s challenges.(more…)
In episode six of We Should Be Writing season 7, the team unpacked the evolution of music as a form of expression and protest, through four decades in the South African context. The episode explores the journey of South African music and its consumers from the 80s, 90s, early 2000s and contemporary listeners. From the […]
