2026 will be marked by the sky gods of Quaggafontein saving their wrath until the Burn was concluded. Anyone looking at the current weather in South Africa will know how close we came to a disaster. Tents blown away into the mountains, impassable rivers and food shortages.
But let’s move on, dear readers. What did Looking through the Prism do for you this year? (assuming you attended, of course). Let me bore you with an old geriatrics experience, if I may.
The story begins with an often-overlooked fact. We are the 10,000 privileged few who attend the Burn. We leave behind in the default world those we love and wish could also be with us.
The preparation for survival in the harsh environment and the kit for self-expression in the desert began months in advance. My sweetie Herme’ did not attend. Too much noise pollution. But she does help me to prepare my grub box and my gear.
The Hek team were up to their usual excellence. To my enormous surprise, Mumu was there. I proudly wear her 2019 necklace, and now I have a 2026 version to add to my AfrikaBurn treasure chest.
This year, Professor Cuchulain’s theme camp has new owners. For those wondering what I’m talking about, the detail will unfold if you’re brave enough to read further. Anton and Rhodi-Anne have slaved for months preparing their offerings. And I’m an interested bystander watching from the sidelines, wondering what time coffee is served. Old age has its merits.
The camp has greatly expanded from the previous year. This provided contact with more interesting people and better food. Mark and Jarryd are the unpaid infrastructure developers. Judging from their output, they too have been busy preparing for months.
I need electricity for my CPAP and oxygen machines. As always, solar power is the preferred source. I bring a big system for my needs, which had been well tested at home. To my horror, it does not work after the installation is complete. Now we get to the interesting bit. Back in 2019, I had a smaller system (some may remember The Power of the Sun), which produced the same “heart failure” inducing challenge to get working. Enter the knight in shining armour. Or more accurately, a big guy on a bicycle. I met Mark for the first time, and his solar skills got me up and running in no time. And hey presto! he does the same for me in 2026. Without the bicycle, because we’re in the same camp this year. Mark installed a large solar system to cater for two large stretch tents, including the fridges and pretty lights.
I meet a new member and his wife, Janet. Heiner is an accomplished engineer busy saving the world. It’s only at the Burn that you will meet interesting people like this. His system produces nanobubbles which, coupled with enzymes, help to clean up polluted water and remove forever chemicals. May his system be installed worldwide before wars are fought over scarce fresh water.
Mark and Jarryd have built a magnificent mutant vehicle based on a large quad. Called the Professor’s Dragon. I enjoy being signed in by DMV to legally drive the beast and get to work immediately picking up babes. Or more accurately, one babe. Her name is Karen. She’s from Stockholm and needs a walker to get about. Which happens when you’re 80 years old. We tour the Binnekring and she enjoys her visit to the Temple for the first time in three years.
I lived alone on a farm during COVID. A Burn brother saved my life. Or, more accurately, kept me mentally healthy. I met Stefano in 2019 when he was a roving Radio Free Tankwa (RFT) reporter with a microphone. Afterwards, he set off to tour the world in a campervan. Then COVID struck. Leaving him stranded in Turkey. From where he broadcast as Steve Hippietrap on Shouting Fire, the Burning Man radio station. I had his cell number, and when he was broadcasting, I’d send messages and chat with him. When the show was over, he’d send me the music playlist he used. So … guess who enjoyed being interviewed live on RFT this year by none other than the well-travelled Stefano, alias Steve Hippietrap. What a treat. Our Burn family is truly worldwide.
Anton and Rhodi-Anne played the incorrigible Professor Cuchulain and his wife Margaret. Their outfits commanded attention as any self-respecting snake oil salesman and his cunning wife would display. Once again, they have brought even more wares to Quaggafontein with the intention of making a fortune from a captive audience. But alas, the principle of decommodification spoils their plan. And once again, the pair discover a world of gifting unlike any other. Big hugs are the only rewards they garner. Discovering the world of anti-capitalism is soon embraced. All over the world, people are now gazing happily at their treasured snake oil remedies in labelled bottles.
The battle-hardened Nikki from AB HQ rolls up in her all-electric charabanc. Back in 2019, she was my wrangler and has come to ensure we are comfortable. Solar Santa applauds the move away from fossil fuels. Sadly, I learned that she tripped and broke her ankle on the closing Monday. At least she can rest up as she mends during this dreadful weather destroying the Cape.
I made a brand new discovery this year. Peter Pan (not his real name) has a small art gallery under his stretch tent. With a twist. Illuminating it with ultraviolet light at night makes the murals jump into high relief. Mere photos cannot illuminate how dramatic the effect is. My favourites are shown above.
Two other items illustrate Peter’s artistry. His electric scooter is adorned with a Chesire cat caricature (bravo on being fully electric and beautiful).
Anton and Rhodi-Anne are treated to a full-on photo session with Peter Pan in the forest of The Crossing — Nathan’s magnificent art. And speaking of Nathan, below is a pic of the Ultimate Burner himself, concluding the building of The Crossing.
The Binnekring is a large space. I get too adventurous walking about and wonder if I’ll make it home. Enter Jan Hendrick. He pulls up alongside me with a six-seater shopping trolley pulled by a quad. And delivers me to my door. The trolley is signposted: “Add to Cart”. Clever, generous burner.
Burners are one big happy family. And every attendance expands the group. Memorable heroes from the past are still there. Monique, the Goddess of the Tankwa, along with Sonica the Green Queen, came to visit. Laurence and Melissa (of Tree of Stories and last year’s Clan fame) took a rest this year but still managed to come and say hi. In 2018, I met some Burners from Holland. And hey presto! – We meet again in the dusty desert.
Where else will you meet a commercial fisherman who built a serious bubble-blowing machine out of a marine blower and a braai rotisserie? Only in Tankwa Town. And the bubbles were huge. The message on the machine is spot on for our modern world. Make bubbles, not bombs.
Before the Clan burn the fire dancers entertain the crowd. I meet a real one during the day. The covered tennis balls are for practising without setting herself alight in training.
Our neighbours are an accomplished pair. They set up a stand on the road to offer freshly cooked crepes. Yummy. I also enjoyed a Jaffel cooked by the desert chefs. Francois applauds the lack of cellphone coverage or wifi. He calls the burn “Digital Detox”.
I always manage to make a meal of claiming my pensioner ticket, but I have a secret weapon. Patsy is Guardian of the Hek. I bribe her with chocolate to help me get all the forms filled in … and she has made the process flawless. Patsy is my 2026 HQ Champion.
The weeks whizzed by in a blur. I’m sure many burners will post pretty pics of the art and the colourful events. Which I will leave up to them. The hard work keeping body and soul together in a hostile environment makes the creativity, hospitality and the sheer unburdened happy people even more enjoyable. And for those who query the very meaning of AfrikaBurn, Patsy the Philosopher expresses it best: “You get the Burn that you deserve!!”
The biggest hugs go to Brian the Brain and his eclectic crew, who must have spent years compiling the WTF guide and the snazzy map. And of course, setting up Radio Free Tankwa to stream to the world.
The DPW team deserve kudos for installing the street lights and the road signs, which kept us from wandering in circles in the dark of night. And of course, the lines of painted stones marking the hundreds of theme camp sites. The unheralded heroes are the Rangers. Just seeing their quiet patrols and gentle guidance made for a civilised village. They must have collectively walked thousands of miles.
My thanks also to all who made my 6th AfrikaBurn the most fun with the least effort. And a big hug to whoever made the smart decision to reverse the road in from the Hek to the road out on closing. The less I have to endure the denture rattling on the corrugated road, the better I like it.
I’d like to finish with a glorious poem written by Peter Pan.
The Tankwa Dance
Beneath a Tankwa sky ablaze
Ochre dust reflects suns gaze
A canvas blooms a fiery art
Mirroring passions of the heart
Silk shimmers, velvet whispers low
Extravagant designs that brightly glow
Laughter echoing on the breeze
Eyes that sparkle like ancient trees
The flames consume, but love remains
A desert rose through sun and rains
A masterpiece of fleeting grace
Burning bright in this desolate space
Signing off till next year, happy Burners,
Solar Santa, Pretoria, May 2026.
