It wasn’t that he only played at night. Growing up, he would regularly explore Thokoza on foot. “I would go to the places where my parents told me I wasn’t supposed to go,” he says. To fulfil a simple childhood impulse: to see what was being prohibited. “There is a dam nearby, which I used to go to with my friends and try to catch fish,” he reminisces. “There is also a train station where I was warned not to cross the tracks.” During these wanderings, he would scavenge for pieces of metal to sell to a scrap metal dealer. “I used the money to play video games.” These early mappings of Thokoza later played an invaluable role in his photography project. “I got to know where the dangerous places are, where to avoid, especially at night. If an area doesn’t have electricity, it isn’t safe.” The relationship between light and safety in Sibusiso’s photographs is worth pausing on. “It is safer to take photographs where there is light,” he says, but in the same breath admits, “I avoided places where there are a lot of people because you get robbed.” Light is only a possible beacon of safety in his photographs, not a guarantee of it. The light sources in his essay vary: from the last filigree of daylight on the horizon to various forms of electrical sources.