Chipyks
Let me set the scene, my bru.
It’s Saturday. The sun is sunning. I’m in my zone.
The kitchen smells like ancient spice trade secrets. Jazlyn is deep in her Peppa Pig marathon, chilling like Netflix is paying her a salary. The fridge is humming that happy, fully-powered hum. The kettle is warming up like it’s about to drop a diss track.
And me? I’m halfway through prepping my legendary curry—beef so tender it apologizes when you chew it.
Then… ping.
My neighbor. The same one who once asked if he could charge his vape at my house. He texts me, in full panic:
“Eish bro, load shedding just hit us. Again.”
I pause.
Blink twice.
Look around.
No darkness. No drama.
I open the front door…
AND BOOM.
The street is in complete chaos.
It looks like a zombie apocalypse just dropped.
People waving flashlights like they’re trying to summon Batman.
Auntie across the road is stuck halfway in her electric garage, yelling, “Kobus! Kom help my hier, man!”
Someone’s gate is open and the dog has decided it’s free real estate now.
And me?
I just sip my ice-cold beer and watch the drama like it’s a telenovela.
Because inside my house?
LIGHTS. CAMERA. KETTLE.
Wi-Fi’s still smooth like DJ Kent on a Sunday session. Jazlyn hasn’t even blinked—Peppa still oinking.
That’s when it hit me.
I am not one of them anymore.
I have ascended.
My inverter? Trained like a Buddhist monk who studied electrical engineering.
My geyser? Only comes on when the sun is at peak hustle mode.
My battery? Stores power like it’s prepping for a zombie apocalypse and a surprise visit from the in-laws.
You think this happened by accident?
Nah, Masekint.
This took planning. Precision. Late nights. A few arguments with YouTube electricians and at least one moment of panic when I smelled burning plastic.
But now?
Now I sleep with one hand behind my head and the other gently caressing my inverter, whispering:
“You’re doing amazing, sweetie.”
Fast forward a few hours.
The street is still in darkness.
Someone’s boiling water on a skottel braai.
Children are charging their tablets in cars.
The power has turned everyone into cavemen.
Meanwhile, I’m plating my curry on hot rice, buttered naan on the side. Jazlyn asks for a second helping, still connected to Netflix like we live in California, not Pretoria.
ALSO READ: The Legend of Beef à la King & The Queen of The Sink
And the best part?
My fridge never blinked. My beer? Still frosty.
My curry? Still achieving enlightenment.
So listen here.
If you’re still living like it’s 2003 every time Eskom blinks…
If your fridge sounds like it’s having a spiritual breakdown…
If you’re boiling water in a kettle ON THE STOVE like a Neanderthal…
My guy.
There’s another way.
Beating Load Shedding
House with Solar Panels – Image: Watt A Lot on UnsplashDM me.
I’ll show you the ropes.
You don’t need 15 batteries and a second bond.
You just need clever settings, a tight system, and the audacity to live unbothered.
Because these days?
Blackouts are for other people.
Me?
I don’t even flinch.
I braai in the kitchen.
I boil water while watching YouTube tutorials on “How to make your inverter last longer than your ex.”
I’m not living off the grid.
I’m living above it.
