South Africa never disappoints when it comes to surprises.
We survive loadshedding, Eskom’s personality mood swings, petrol prices that rise like they have dreams of greatness, and that one cousin who keeps borrowing money “until month-end,” even though we all know month-end is a myth. But imagine my shock when I discovered there is a national competition offering R22,500 in prizes — for pets. Yes. Not children. Not unemployed graduates. Pets.
The country has entered a new era where dogs have side hustles and cats have income streams, while humans are out here negotiating with Checkers Xtra Savings as though it is an investment account.
Now before we go any further, let me confess: I do not own a pet. Not even a fish. Not even a mosquito I have befriended. All I have is a houseplant hanging onto life by faith. But when I saw the StarPet South Africa competition, something in my spirit said: “Stand up, Zintle. It’s your moment.” Stand up for what? I don’t know. But I stood.
The competition says you can enter your dog, your cat, your hamster, your budgie, your emotional support chicken — basically anything that moves, blinks, or owns your heart. The winning pets get grooming vouchers, sponsored treats, professional photoshoots, and actual cash prizes. Meanwhile, some of us are still buying 5kg rice on special and budgeting emotionally. Life is humbling.
Before I even finish adjusting my wig for this imaginary pet photoshoot, I discovered something very wholesome: StarPet is a product of Starlight Media (Pty) Ltd, a for-profit-for-good online competitions platform founded in 2017. And the company? Not some giant corporate giant with boardrooms and glass doors. No.
It was founded by a wife-and-husband duo — Debbie and Leonard — plus two millennial “could-have-been brothers,” both named Tim. Yes, two Tims. One family, two Tims, one business. I love South Africa.
And the best part? They run the whole thing themselves. No agencies, no PR army, no thirty interns named Kiara. They do the marketing, the website building, the finances, the everything — all while having full-time jobs.
They are bootstrapped, passionate, and clearly powered by caffeine and stubbornness. And honestly? I respect that. Because sometimes life is like that — you build something beautiful with love, dedication, and the little time you have between adulthood collapsing on your head.
This is when I realized: StarPet is not just a competition. It’s a love letter to joy.
Because beyond the comedy of animals becoming celebrities, the competition raises funds for charity. Joy + charity + pets = national healing. In a country tired in its bones, this actually makes sense. We deserve softness. We deserve laughter. Some of us deserve to be comforted by a cat with an attitude.
And so, I began to reflect. Perhaps I do have a pet-adjacent community. Let’s be honest:
- The neighbour’s dog shouts “Amandla” at me every morning.
- The fly living in my house refuses to leave — that is a tenant.
- My kettle has supported me through every emotional crisis.
- And the men I’ve dated? Emotional pets. I trained them. I fed them. I gave them commands. I cleaned up after them. And some of them did not have their shots.
So tell me why I must be excluded???
But let’s not get carried away. My time will come. One day, I will have a dog. A dramatic one with eyelashes. A dog that sighs loudly for effect. A dog that judges visitors in silence.
A dog that tilts its head like it is saying, “Haibo, are we still entertaining this?” When that dog arrives, just know — we are entering every competition. I will be carrying the dog like Beyoncé carries awards.
For now, I will be cheering from the sidelines as people’s pets win money, sponsorships, photo shoots and public admiration while I continue to negotiate with life itself.
So if you have a pet, enter them.
If you don’t have one, comment below and tell me which household item has been your emotional support animal. Mine is still my kettle. She boils with purpose, discipline, and grace.
