Wendy Carstens who runs the Koppies, and new volunteer Tamarin Scheidegger. Running Melville Koppies doesn’t mean sitting in an air-conditioned office. It means donning your blue overalls and gumboots, and pulling out weeds.

Melville Koppies is extraordinarily beautiful – a green gem in the heart of Johannesburg. You can admire the view that stretches off into the distance – or turn your back on all signs of civilization, and focus on grasses, flowers, rocks, birds, and history.

The knowledgeable guides have geology, archaeology, and history at their fingertips, as well the botany and ecology of the koppies. They are practical people, who put down carpets on the paths to limit erosion ( old carpets welcome) as well as spending hours poring over books to keep their knowledge up to date.

It is risky, caring about something as fragile and area-specific as fynbos. Careless bulldozing of a parking area can wipe out a particular species for ever. So there is both grief and joy in the work Rupert does.

Bongiwe’s heart belongs to Johannesburg. Many people regard this city as a crass hub of commercialism, but she perceives its spirituality. She loves the smells, the sounds, the sights – the trees and the people.

Selling books in central Johannesburg, Griffin can talk with authority about a reading culture beyond the suburbs. About readers who would never set foot in a mall, booksellers who sell 400 books a month from a pavement stall, and a book club in Orange Farm where they read the latest Pulitzer Prize winners.

The name Bridge Books of course derives from the iconic Nelson Mandela Bridge, and that is the logo on the bookshop windows. The appropriateness of the name goes beyond its location. The shop is not just a retailer for customers, but a supplier for other, smaller, booksellers. They do not have the access to publishers, or discounts, enjoyed by formal booksellers. So Griffin bridges the gap. A gap which is more of a chasm, really.

Academic excellence and social justice are two sides of the same coin, according to Nadine Petersen. Nadine is no ivory tower Professor. After matriculating at Bosmont High school, she failed her first year at university. But she persevered, and is now Assistant Dean in the Faculty of Education at the University of Johannesburg.

Having travelled a long educational journey herself, Nadine has strong views on how teachers should be trained in and for our young democracy.

Michelle believes that each Christmas brings a gift. Not a commercial gift. Nothing that you could put paper (or tinsel) around. In the conversation Michelle explains how every person, of very faith or no faith, may recognise their own gift.

“Christmas isn’t meant to take us out of reality. It’s meant to make us look differently at the real world around us”

Retang explains that often local practices are devalued by their own community, let alone the outside world. So when you say “this practice, which has been carrying for generations is valuable in itself, and may also generate income” that changes the way the knowledge-holders see themselves.

It started as a silent protest against specific legislation. White, middle class South African ladies, dressed in hats and gloves, ‘haunted’ National Party cabinet ministers. They stood, wearing their black sashes of mourning, wherever the minister was due to arrive, or speak. Their only weapon was shame. Extraordinarily, the ministers went to great lengths to avoid them –  changing schedules and sneaking out of back entrances.

I met Baeletsi (@baeontheword on IG) on the @bridgebooks Underground Booksellers Tour, which ends with a storytelling session in Oppenheimer Park in Commissioner Street. Against a background of curious pedestrians, and ReeaVaya buses, Baeletsi transported us to other worlds.

I love Mondays because I love my work” says Dr Khanyile, currently completing her community service at Sebokeng hospital, in Vanderbijl Park in Southern Gauteng.