I am walking on a street in Tshongweni section, Katlehong, the township where I grew up. It is the beginning of winter, June 2012. I do not have any specific destination in mind and probably am just taking in the sights of the old neighbourhood, seeing what has stayed the same and what has changed.

I have my camera on my shoulder. A puddle of rainwater has formed on the edge of the tarmac to the left of where I am walking. On my right are two cars, one white in colour and the other a bright yellow. Further away there is a big hauler without its carriage and another passenger car, this one dark blue. Between the two pairs of cars is a person – I think it is a woman – wearing pink pants and a light pink sweater. She has a parcel in her hands. She is walking in the direction of the soccer game being played by five boys in the middle of the street. She passes a man in blue jeans and a jacket with a hoodie who is walking in the opposite direction. Two men, both wearing yellow tops, are hanging around outside a house with a vibracrete wall, talking.

I stop and watch the game, camera at the ready. I shoot. In the picture I take, one of the boys, in a reddish sweater and yellow and green wool hat, is tackling another boy. A third boy, in faded jeans and a dark blue sweater with a check pattern on the front and a white T-shirt peeping from below the sweater, appears to have the ball, but it is out of view. He looks intent on dribbling past the tackler, or about to kick the ball.

I have included two girls in the picture I take. They are standing on the sidelines of the soccer game. One girl is wearing a brown top and sitting flat on the ground. The other is wearing jeans, boots and a colourful striped sweater. She is carrying what may be a doll on her back. But from the way it is wrapped, it might be a human baby.