Itâs a bright Monday morning in Khayelitsha. Zanele Molo is perched on a pedal-less bike, heart pounding as she tries to balance. Lifting her feet up and letting the bike roll freely beneath her is terrifying, but her teacher, Sindile Mavundla, urges her to go with the flow as she wobbles along the street.

The thing is, Zanele isnât just scared of falling â sheâs terrified of following someone elseâs lead.

Sindile has taught hundreds of young women to ride bikes at Khaltsha Cycles. It started in 2017 as a small bike shop.

At first, it was a place where you could buy, rent or repair a bike. Since then, itâs grown into an organisation that promotes cycling in townships, with a special focus on training young women.

âItâs about freedom,â Sindile explains.

âI want to get women on bikes because Iâve seen how women are not given the opportunity to rely on themselves, or to transport themselves. Itâs a skill to learn how to ride, and no one can take it from you.â

When Sindile reassuringly reminds Zanele itâs okay to be scared, she responds: âItâs also scary because Iâm usually a fast learner. Iâm not used to baby steps. This is so new to me, and I donât know how to feel about that.â

Zaneleâs lessons are happening in her neighbourhood in Khayelitsha, Cape Town. Recently, sheâs seen more women than usual cycling around, and she wanted to know what all the fuss was about. The last time she rode a bike was when she was five â more than 15 years ago. Back then, she fell flat on her face, and that was it. She never tried again.

In Radio Workshopâs episode, Brake like a Boss, we follow 22-year-old Zanele as she attempts to overcome her trust issues by learning to ride a bike.

Zanele is a former Radio Workshop Youth Reporter. She got behind the mic once again to report this story with the support of producer Catherine Boulle.

For Zanele, this story is about more than learning a new skill and becoming more independent â itâs about overcoming something that was hard-wired into her as a teen: perfectionism.

Zaneleâs upbringing was volatile. She grew up in the Eastern Cape, and lost her mother and grandmother when she was young. She then moved into her uncleâs home in Khayelitsha, where she was physically abused. Zanele says being a perfectionist was drilled into her when she lived with her uncle. âIn his house, you either get first place or nothing.â

In Grade 9, a teacher noticed Zaneleâs hands were swollen and bruised and asked Zanele to tell her what was going on. Social workers were called to the school, and after hospital assessments they removed Zanele from her uncleâs house.

She found refuge with a kind woman named Pamela Kulashe â a stranger who became a mother to her.

Zanele clearly remembers the moment she met Pamela for the first time. She describes her as a âvery nice, tall, dark-skinned lady, full face, full cheeksâ. Zanele says that when they first met, Pamela looked at her and said: âIâm sorry that you had to go through all of that, but Iâm gonna be your mom now.â

Pamela saw things in Zanele that nobody else had noticed before. For the first time in ages, an adult was proud of her. Zanele was the first of many children Pamela went on to adopt after she founded the Lindokuhle Childrenâs Home.

But just two years after Zanele was adopted, Pamelaâs health deteriorated rapidly. Within months, she died, leaving Zanele to figure things out for herself once again.

It wasnât always a given that Zanele could trust the people who were supposed to take care of her. But Pamela taught her what that could feel like. And now, on the bike with Sindileâs patient coaching, Zanele finds herself reflecting on some of the bigger forces that have shaped her life.

In their third lesson, Zanele reaches a breaking point. As sheâs cycling across a parking lot, having finally found her balance on a bike with pedals, the overthinking kicks in and she falls. She slumps against a wall and stares into space.

Just then, a group of about 15 girls pulls into Khaltsha Cycles on their bikes. Theyâve just finished one of their training rides. Zanele watches them, inspired by their ease. She has one lesson left, and she tells herself that sheâs going to make it count.

Itâs windy for Zaneleâs final lesson, and although Sindile says it will propel her forward, to Zanele that sounds like a threat rather than encouragement. She mounts the bike, wind at her back, and takes a few deep breaths and then pushes off.

After the first few pedals, it all clicks: âIâm at the top of the bike. Itâs moving. Iâm in control. And then I pull up to the barrier and brake like a boss. It was one of the golden moments of my cycling journey.â

Over the four days she spent with Sindile, Zanele says she feels a new sense of trust and freedom unfold beneath her wheels â something sheâs learning to lean into in all aspects of her life.

She says: âI started being graceful towards myself as well. That, eh, you know what, itâs my first time doing this, man. Iâve never been 22 with no parents. Iâve never done that before. Iâm taking it one day and one step at a time.â DM

Listen to Zaneleâs story, Brake like a Boss, wherever you get your podcasts.