In December 2010 while in Port Elizabeth, Andy Kawa was abducted, attacked and raped for 15 hours at Kings Beach. Her attackers were never caught. She successfully sued the police for failing to properly investigate her attack.

In November 2018, Port Elizabeth Judge Sarah Sephton found police officers were 'grossly negligent' in the performance of their duties with regards to her case both in the search and investigation.

This is Andy's story.

In her much anticipated memoir, Sisonke Msimang writes about her exile childhood in Zambia and Kenya, young adulthood and college years in North America, and returning to South Africa in the euphoric 1990s. She reflects candidly on her discontent and disappointment with present-day South Africa but also on her experiences of family, romance, and motherhood, with the novelist’s talent for character and pathos.

Militant young comrades dance off the pages of the 1970s Lusaka she invokes, and the heady and naive days of just-democratic South Africa in the 1990s are as vividly painted. Her memoir is at heart a chronicle of a coming-of-age, and while well-known South African political figures appear in these pages, it is an intimate story, a testament to family bonds and sisterhood.

Sisonke Msimang is one of the most assured and celebrated voices commenting on the South African present – often humorously; sometimes deeply movingly – and this book launches her to an even broader audience.

This book offers a behind the scenes look at the world of a female entrepreneur trying to balance work, life, family and everything in-between.

Cindy has been an entrepreneur since the age of 23. She married, became a mother, a certified business coach, and an international motivational speaker hurtling on to win more awards than she can remember. Wanting to do more, Cindy founded the ROBIN HOOD FOUNDATION in 2005, which has helped thousands of people in KZN. Somehow she has made this look easy.

In this powerful book, Cindy opens up about being successful but not perfect, and how this is totally OK. Cindy tells it how it is, and by being vulnerable, she allows the reader to resonate with the ups and down of life.

Anne Biccard has worked as an emergency doctor in Johannesburg for more than 30 years. It is a job that is both terrifying and thrilling, where death can be outwitted by skill and quick thinking, and the pressure eased by dark humour. The coronavirus, however, has added another dimension of fear.

In this heartwarming and at times hilarious memoir she recounts some of the cases that have burst in through her doors, such as the woman who mistook her Dettol for beer and the man who tried to run down his cardiologist. There is sadness, too, as she remembers the patients who didn't make it.

Above all, she writes of the camaraderie and dogged determination of health workers holding fast in the face of the Covid-19 nightmare as they battle, every day, to save a stranger's life.

'I was made in Coffee Bay. Right there on the beach, in the sand.'

From the opening lines, we are drawn in and engrossed by this startling memoir of a singular childhood. Suzan is adopted as a newborn in the late 1960s into a seemingly loving and welcoming family living in Pietermaritzburg. But Suzan is set on a collision course with, most particularly, her adoptive mother, and society, from her very beginning. Suzan's relationship with her mother is fraught with drama, which veers over into a level of emotional abuse and needless cruelty that is shocking.

At the age of thirteen, Suzan is sent to a place of safety as a ward of the state, effectively 'orphaning' her. From there, she spirals out of control – fighting to survive in a world of other neglected, abandoned and abused children. She becomes a 'runner', escaping at every opportunity from her various places of confinement, grabbing her schooling in snatches, living on the edges of a drug and prostitution underworld, finding love wherever she can.

Suzan’s young life was the stuff of movies, but it is her writing, in a voice that is unforgettable and true, that transforms her memories into something magical rarely matched in South African literature. A new classic.

In the shattered fantasy of rainbow-nation South Africa, there are many uncomfortable truths. Among these are family secrets - the legacies of traumas in the homes and bones of ordinary South African families.

In this debut collection, feminist and Khoi San activist Kelly-Eve Koopman grapples with the complex beauty and brutality of the everyday as she struggles with her family legacy. She tries unsuccessfully to forget her father - a not-so-prominent journalist and anti-apartheid activist, desperately mentally ill and expertly emotionally abusive - who has recently disappeared, leaving behind a wake of difficult memories. Mesmerisingly, Koopman wades through the flotsam and jetsam of generations, among shipwrecks and sunken treasures, in an attempt at familial and collective healing.

Sometimes tragic, sometimes hilarious, she faces up to herself as a brown, newly privileged "elder millennial", caught between middle-class aspirations and social justice ideals. An artist, a daughter, a queer woman in love, she is in pursuit of healing, while trying to lose those last 5 kilograms, to the great disappointment of her feminist self.

“Ek het my mammie sien loop na die hofgebou met ’n hoodie aan en ’n doek oor haar gesig. Sy het byna gelyk soos iemand wat arm is. Mense het haar uitgevloek … Dit het my gebreek. Dit is die vrou wat elke dag daar was vir my, wat middagete vir my en my vriende gemaak het as ons van die skool af kom, en hier is sy nou op televisie en word ’n misdadiger genoem.”

Die ontvoering van baba Zephany Nurse uit die kot langs haar ma se hospitaalbed het die hele Suid-Afrika aangegryp. Haar desperate ouers het herhaaldelik gepleit dat sy veilig terugbesorg word, maar daar was geen teken van die baba nie. Vir 17 jaar lank, op haar verjaarsdag, het die Nurse-gesin kerse aangesteek en gehoop en gebid.

’n Klipgooi van die Nurse-gesin af het die 17-jarige Miché Solomon pas met matriek begin. Sy het ’n kêrel gehad en toegewyde ouers. Sy het gedroom oor die matriekafskeid en die rok wat haar ma vir haar sou maak. Sy het nie die vaagste benul gehad dat ’n nuwe meisie in die skool, wat ongelooflik baie soos sy lyk, en ’n DNS-toets haar wêreld tot in sy fondamente sou skud nie.

Miché is nou 22. Met verbysterende volwassenheid, eerlikheid en deernis vertel sy hier vir die eerste keer háár storie, in haar eie woorde, oor wat dit beteken om lief te hê en geliefd te wees, en om jou eie identiteit op te eis.