South Africa is in mourning. Yesterday, we lost one of our brightest voices — Tshidi Madia, a revered political journalist, editor, and storyteller whose pen and presence lit up not only newsrooms but the hearts of a nation.

After a short illness, Tshidi was taken from us far too soon, leaving a void that words alone cannot fill.

This morning, as I watched and listened to SABC News, I was struck by an interview with Eyewitness News editor-in-chief, Nisa Allie. The conversation was held right at Tshidi’s desk — her chair, her space, her world of stories.

Nisa painted a portrait of Tshidi that so many of us already knew: her laughter, her energy, her radiant spirit that filled every room she entered. She was more than a journalist; she was a force of light.

For me, Tshidi’s story resonates deeply. Just today, I sat as a panelist alongside my WOSSO Fellow sisters in a global discussion about storytelling — how we can turn data and research into powerful advocacy. Storytelling was our theme, and storytelling was Tshidi’s gift.

When Nisa described her as a storyteller, I felt my heart echo in recognition. Hours earlier, before I began my presentation, I paused to pay tribute to Tshidi. It felt only right, because she embodied the courage, brilliance, and humanity that every storyteller aspires to.

Tshidi was not afraid of difficult conversations. She defended South Africa fiercely, even in recent months when misinformation and disinformation about our land and our struggles flooded international platforms. She stood tall, dignified, and unwavering.

With patriotism and with the spirit of Ubuntu, she reminded the world that our stories deserve to be told truthfully, without distortion.

And yet, beyond the sharpness of her pen and the depth of her interviews, Tshidi was joy. She was warmth. She was that girl. She was the woman who carried herself with confidence and grace, the one who was unapologetically herself.

Colleagues describe her laughter as contagious, her debates as fearless, her presence as unforgettable. Through her, political leaders were challenged, narratives were sharpened, and truths were brought to light.

Even for those of us who never met her in person, her impact was profound. As a human rights activist and storyteller myself, I have always followed Tshidi’s work. Her stories were authentic, real, unfiltered. She gave us the courage to face uncomfortable truths and the tools to reimagine our future.

Her voice helped us make sense of the complexities of power, politics, and justice in South Africa.

Today, we grieve. We grieve the journalist who brought us closer to the truth. We grieve the colleague, the friend, the sister, the queen who inspired countless women and young people to rise and take their place in the world. We grieve the silence that follows her absence.

But even in grief, we celebrate. We celebrate the courage of Tshidi Madia, who showed us that storytelling is not just about words — it is about bravery, integrity, and love for one’s people.

We celebrate the legacy of a woman who stood firm against injustice, who fought for truth in an age of disinformation, and who believed that South Africa deserved better.

Tshidi Madia has left us, but her light endures. Her words will continue to echo in our memories, her laughter will continue to ring in our hearts, and her legacy will continue to inspire storytellers, journalists, and truth-tellers across generations.

Rest in power, Tshidi. You were that woman. You were that girl. You were the story.