Sweet rewads

Last year, amid the soul-destroying drought and lockdown, two madcap yet deeply devout women from Merweville borrowed money from their husbands to buy a nougat business. They christened it Karoo Blessings… and lo and behold, a mere three months later these two“CEOs”were able to to fully repay their debt.

- JOHN VAN ZYL

“No, man... it’s been so damned dry here – for six, seven... eight years already. A person can’t even dream anymore," laments the dishevelled fellow on the corner of Hugenoot and Dominee Pienaar streets as he approaches with outstretched hands: “Just R5 for half a loaf of bread”.

“We’re praying for rain... we pray hard, but all we get is dust. Dust, dust, dust everywhere you look.”

About 300m and a slight left further on, at 59 Voortrekker Street, it seems that the residents, like the rest of this Karoo town, have given up and started farming with dust. A few fig trees have long ago turned into bone-dry skeletons, and the withered, sparsely leafed white karees appear to be on their last legs.

Yet at the gate you notice a large lush-green sign featuring the purple wax seal that graces every Karoo Blessings box of handmade nougat. At the top, in the boldest lettering, it reads, “Storie van Hoop” (Story of Hope), followed by Marian Esterhuizen’s cellphone number and, below that, “Jesus se Sweets Fabriek” (Jesus’ Sweets Factory).

There you have it: there might be dust nearly everywhere you look, but you can’t help but feel optimistic when you see this factory.

“NO! NO! NO! You can’t be here already! Just look at us – the two CEOs! – we haven’t even brushed our hair yet! Where are our aprons and hair nets? The health inspector would have a fit!” exclaimed Suzaan Theron and Marian Esterhuizen when Platteland came knocking early one Thursday morning in March at the “home factory” of Karoo Blessings in Merweville. The enterprise is housed in a converted garage on the Esterhuizens’ property.