The Day I Became the Cheetah
We were at Garden Route Game Lodge, trying to enjoy a quiet weekend. I didn’t know I was standing at the edge of something irreversible.
That morning, I saw a mother cheetah showing her cubs how to hunt. She moved like breath — quiet, alert, powerful. I couldn’t look away. There was something haunting about her stillness. The way she held her ground. The way she knew it was up to her to prepare her young for a world that wouldn't wait.
Later that day, back at the lodge, my then-husband casually mentioned to a stranger that he had no income. That he had cancelled our medical aid and insurance — things I didn’t even know had been undone. Then he tried to park the car in a place where there was no parking. We got stuck. Strangers had to help us out.
And something in me snapped into focus.
That day was the beginning of his unraveling. But it was also the beginning of mine — in a different direction. I realised I could no longer rely on anyone else to keep us safe. I had to become the keeper. Of the future. Of my children. Of myself.
“Watching her—cautious yet powerful—I saw something of myself. There’s a quiet knowing in mothers who’ve had to raise their young while watching for danger. Who teach not because they’re whole, but because they must.”
I created Keeper of the Future with soft pastels — a drawing that honours what it means to hold the line when everything else begins to blur.
This piece is part of my Beauty for Ashes collection — work born in brokenness but rooted in quiet, feral hope.
10% of proceeds from this piece support cheetah conservation efforts in South Africa.
Thank you for being part of this story.
Thank you for seeing her.
Thank you for seeing me.
— JuanitaHart
