Letshego Zulu - I Choose to Live: The Gugu Zulu Story

A gripping read of Letshegos terrifying flight down Kilimanjaro to save her Gugs. What follows is the immense personal journey she undertakes emotionally, mentally, spiritually to find herself and regain her courage in the face of such loss. Harrowing and life-affirming all at once. A life guide to how you can overcome anything and flourish. Danielle Weakley, editor Womens Health

Letshegos journey of heartbreak, tragedy and finding light and life is an inspiration. There are lessons for us all in I Choose to Live how to pick up the pieces after a tragedy, and celebrate life. Aki Anastasiou, broadcaster, columnist

When Letshego asked me to read the manuscript, I dreaded the thought. I put it away for a week. Then an idea crossed my mind that maybe this is the book to read not to open wounds but to find healing, to be reminded of life, loss, love and everything between. Once I started reading it, I couldnt put it down! Thank you for sharing this journey with us, which has helped me heal from losing Gugs and many other losses life threw my way. Sello Hatang, CEO of the Nelson Mandela Foundation

As much as this book is about the tragic death of one of South Africas most loved sportsmen, it is mostly about life. Honest, inspiring and, at times, gut-wrenching, Letshegos journey from losing her much-loved husband on a mountain, to conquering it on her own in his honour, is a lesson to all of us. Gugs would have been so proud! Mike Finch, editor Runners World and Bicycling magazine

Letshego expertly proves that out of tragedy can come some of lifes most useful lessons. Innocent Dutiro, CEO: Adcorp

First published by MFBooks Joburg, an imprint of Jacana Media (Pty) Ltd, in 2019

10 Orange Street

Sunnyside

Auckland Park 2092

South Africa

+2711 628 3200

www.jacana.co.za

Letshego Zulu, 2019

All rights reserved.

d-PDF ISBN 978-1-928420-67-5

ePUB ISBN 978-1-928420-68-2

mobi file ISBN 978-1-928420-69-9

Also available as an ebook.

Cover photograph Corinna Tannian

Editing by Sean Fraser

Proofreading by Gwen Podbrey

Set in Sabon 11/15pt

Job no 003492

See a complete list of MFBooks Joburg titles at www.jacana.co.za

I Choose to Live

Life After Losing Gugu

Letshego Zulu

I dedicate this book to Gugulethu Mathebula Zulu, the Fastest Brother in Africa, my loving husband and a doting dad to Lelethu. I lost you at the height of your motorsport career and shortly after you became a dad, but I take comfort that you will always be remembered. You left an indelible mark in many peoples lives and for that I know that you will never be forgotten. Heaven gained a star in you. Keep shining.

PART 1

CHAPTER 1

My footsteps thud as they hit the ground. Im trying to pace my breathing; slow, quick breaths in through the nose, out through the mouth. The terrain zips past me, obscured by the shadowy darkness as we make our descent of Kilimanjaro from Kibo Hut. Gugs is lying unconscious on a single-wheel bicycle stretcher carried by four guides. I look down to check my watch only 15 minutes since we left Kibo. Suddenly my foot strikes a rock and Im flung forward, unable to stop myself. I tuck in and somehow manage a soft landing on the rough gravel path. Luckily, Im wearing my summit-night gear, which is well padded. Richard, the founder of Imbumba Foundation, stops and gives me a hand. As he hoists me up, he reaches for my shoulders and removes my backpack. He wears it on his chest and, now carrying two backpacks, instructs me to continue running. I quickly dust myself off but, as I look up, I realise that the team carrying Gugs a short distance ahead has also stopped. Panicked, I rush up to ask whats wrong. The leading guide, Frank, says, The drips not flowing. My first thought is that theres a blockage, but the problem is I dont know how to fix it. In the dark, with the help of my head torch, I peer through the drip window and I realise its filled with the liquid. I dont know anything about drips! Desperate for a miracle, I stare into the four faces. Nothing. It looks blocked, I blurt out. What should we do? The guide whos been trying to hold up the drip while running, responds: Well, if its not working, then I think I should stop carrying it. Ill put it next to him so I can run properly. No one responds so he does exactly that, securing the drip neatly between Gugs and the stretcher.

Frank and I exchange a worried glance. He places a hand on Gugss neck to check his pulse. He looks back up at me. I read concern on his face so, shakily, I place two fingers just below Gugss chin. Nothing. Terrified, I pull my hand away almost immediately. I decide to check his wrist pulse and, as my fingers search for a beat, Im hit with an Aha! moment. Fitbit! I find myself shouting. Gugs has two different Fitbit heart-rate monitors, one on each wrist. I had given one to him for his birthday two months earlier and the other he received as a gift from the Fitbit team two weeks ago, before we set off on our adventure. I click the one on his left wrist it gives me a heart-rate reading of 185bpm.

Jeez! I scream.

My husband is clearly in deep trouble My only consolation is that his heart is still beating. I show Frank how to check the heart rate and he nods. Our brief rest period has come to an end. We have roughly 28 kilometres to cover before we get to the bottom of the mountain, to an ambulance, which I pray will be waiting for us at KINAPA headquarters, the main gate to the Marangu Route.

Before we start off again I realise that the guides have only one headlamp between them to steer them through the pitch-black night. Without hesitation, Richard hands his headlamp to one of them. This leaves the two of us running behind, with only the dim light from the one on my head.

As we start the descent, my brain is in solution mode: I am heading up Project Save Gugu Zulu. We are going to get him help; everythings going to be okay. Weve been running for about an hour and now my phone beeps as it catches network. Cellphone coverage is almost non-existent on the mountain, so when your phone beeps, you stop in your tracks and check your messages. But this time I immediately dial my moms number. She answers almost straight away and, without any greeting, my words tumble out: Gomie, Gugs is not well. Were taking him down the mountain right now. Please tell his parents. I almost burst into tears as the reality of the situation finally hits me. Richard indicates that I need to hang up we have to keep going.

Now were running again to catch up with the guides and Gugs ahead. Soon were right behind them, the only sound the thud of our footsteps as we continue our descent in the silence of the black Tanzanian night. After what feels like another hour of feet thudding on the gravel path, the guides stop to catch their breath. Weighing in at a solid 95 kilograms, Gugs is not the lightest of guys. Richard and I stop a few metres behind. I ask Frank to check his heart rate again. 172! shouts Frank. Its a small consolation that he seems to be improving even though were still at pretty high altitude. I know enough about heart rates to understand, though, that his stats are equivalent to someone running a marathon, so its clear my husband is far from well. Our break soon ends and were on our way again.

After nine kilometres on the run, we eventually reach Horombo Hut. My mind flashes to Gugs, so happy here just the day before. He kept saying: This is the most beautiful thing Ive ever seen! Were above the clouds! Right now there is nothing scenic about this dark and desperate place.