07/08/2026
I took loans I knew were a bad idea while I was signing them.
Let me be specific, because vague honesty is not honesty.
The car. I live in Tembisa and worked on the other side of the city. Transport was not a luxury. But the R2,500 payment became R4,000 once insurance was added. Then fuel. Then repairs. The car that gave me mobility became the anchor pulling me under.
The personal loan. R3,636 a month, for tuition, because I had no bursary and no other way to study. That number was relentless. It did not care about the month my baby was sick. It did not care that she was born prematurely and I was driving to the hospital every day. It demanded its R3,636 regardless.
The credit card. The slow bleeder. R1,000 a month on minimums that kept the account alive but never touched what I actually owed. Month after month, paying just to stand still.
The micro loans. These were the desperate ones. I took them when every other door had closed, from lenders whose rates would embarrass a loan shark. And I knew, even as I signed, that these were not solutions. They were expensive ways of pushing the problem into next month — where it would be waiting for me, bigger.
Here is why I am telling you this in detail.
The financial advice industry loves to talk about discipline. But almost nobody explains that most bad debt is not a discipline problem at the moment it is taken on. It is a survival decision made with incomplete information, under pressure, with no better option visible.
Understanding that changed everything for me. Not because it excused anything — I still had to climb out, rand by rand, over three years. But because shame is paralysing, and I could not start climbing until I stopped hating myself for being at the bottom.
Your debt is not your character. Your plan is.
If you knew a decision was a mistake while you were making it, what would have needed to be different for you to choose otherwise?