From the Shadows of Paarl
By J. Ockhuis
From the Shadows of Paarl
For my son, Ezeqio.
You are the roar that lives on after me.
Prologue: The First Storm
PROLOGUE: THE FIRST STORM
Jason was only seven when he last saw his father. The man stood at the doorway with anger in his fists and liquor on his breath. Jason watched from the shadows as his mother begged, "Please, for your son." But the door slammed anyway.
From that night, Jason learned to never expect anyone to stay. He sat in a broken chair by the window, holding his notebook-the only place his tears could speak. He wrote his first words: "One day, I will not be forgotten."
Book 1: From the Shadows of Paarl
In the dusty corners of Paarl's forgotten streets, the air was heavy with the scent of smoke, cheap liquor, and unspoken pain. Here, in a part of town that maps didn't show with pride, lived a boy named Jason. Just seventeen, but already old in the eyes. His world wasn't made of dreams-it was built on survival.
Mothers cried for lost sons. Gunshots echoed more than laughter. Every second house was a trap-either for drugs or broken promises. That's where Jason grew up. No father. His mother worked long hours cleaning houses in the suburbs while trying to hold her home together with prayers and hope.
He had no brother to protect him, no cousin to guide him. Only the streets. And the streets had sharp teeth.
Jason had one thing that kept him sane: his notebook. While others carried knives, he carried words. At night, he wrote by candlelight-poems about escaping, stories about flying. But in the morning, those pages stayed under his mattress while he faced the real world.
His friends-Thabo, Lionel, and "Smack"-were already in deep. Robberies. Drugs. Gang ties. They wanted Jason with them, but something inside him burned different.
One night, a local gangster named Boeta Smiley came looking for Thabo. A deal went wrong. Shots fired. Screams. Blood on the pavement. Jason saw it all. He wasn't supposed to be there, but hunger made him follow them for a promised meal.
That night broke something in him. He realized: this street is not my destiny. But how do you leave when you've got no money, no support, no connections?
He started praying. Not loud, just whispers. Not perfect, just honest.
Jason began waking up earlier. He helped an old mechanic down the road clean up the shop for R20 a day. He bought bread. Saved coins. One day he got enough for a bus trip into town and signed up for a job readiness workshop at a youth center.
People laughed at him. They said, "You from the blocks, bro. You think you're going to be somebody?" But he kept showing up. Dirty shoes. Empty stomach. Full heart.
He applied for internships, handed out CVs, got rejected, stood up, and tried again. There were days he slept hungry. Days his mother cried because the fridge was empty. Days he thought of giving up. But he remembered the gunshots, the blood, the screams-and told himself: "Ek sal nie teruggaan nie."
One year later, Jason got accepted into a youth program for IT training. He caught a taxi every morning, studied hard, and finished top of his class. No father. No money. No shortcut. Just him, his words, and God.
His friends? Some in jail. Some gone. Some still stuck. But Jason was now working in Cape Town, saving money, helping his mom fix the house.
Now 25, Jason stands in front of youth in the same community hall where he once sat. He tells them, "You don't need a rich family to be rich in spirit. Don't let where you come from decide where you're going." He still writes. Still prays. Still walks with scars. But he's proof that even from the darkest streets of Paarl... A lion can rise.
The Edge of Darkness
CHAPTER: THE EDGE OF DARKNESS
At nineteen, Jason almost lost everything. Smack had convinced him to come to a "quick deal" behind the school yard. Jason didn't ask questions-he was hungry, and they promised cash.
But when the other gang arrived, things spiraled. Guns. Screams. A boy his age bled out in the sand, calling for his mother.
Jason froze. One second later, a bullet tore through the air-past his ear. Smack pulled him behind a bin and yelled, "Run!"
Jason ran with shaking legs, the smell of blood chasing him.
That night, in his room, he fell to the floor and sobbed. "God... if you're real, save me."
Ghosts of a Father
CHAPTER: GHOSTS OF A FATHER
Though Jason never saw his father again in the flesh, he often imagined him-standing behind him during hard moments. When he got his first rejection email, he looked up and whispered, "Are you proud of me?"
In a way, his father became a silent mentor-his absence teaching Jason how to be present. The pain of abandonment shaped him into someone who would never walk out on his own child.
One day in prayer, Jason wrote in his journal: "My father's silence taught me how to speak loudly through my life."
When God Was Quiet
CHAPTER: WHEN GOD WAS QUIET
There was a season when everything Jason built seemed to fall apart. The youth center got robbed. His best friend backslid into addiction. His mother was diagnosed with diabetes. And when he knelt to pray, heaven felt silent.
Jason threw his Bible across the room. "Where are You, God? After everything?!"
He sat in the dark corner, tears falling like rain. But that night, a scripture popped up on his phone-accidentally opened: Isaiah 43:2. "When you walk through the fire, I will be with you."
Jason whispered, "Even in the silence... You're still here."
The Fire Within
Jason stood in front of a glass building in Cape Town-ID card around his neck, laptop bag on his back. From the outside, he looked like any other young professional. But inside, he was still that boy from the ghetto, walking through shadows with dreams too big for his zip code. His new life brought challenges he never expected. Long hours. Cold stares. People who couldn't understand his accent or his past. But Jason didn't care. He wasn't here to fit in-he was here to level up.
One Saturday night, Jason got a call. "Smack" was out of prison. And he wanted help. "Come visit, bro. Things are wild this side. We need you." Jason stood in silence. The streets had a way of pulling you back-like they missed you. Like they owned you. But Jason wasn't a victim anymore. He replied calmly, "I'll come. But I'm not coming to join-I'm coming to show you it's possible."
From the Shadows of Paarl
Jason walked the familiar streets again-same corners, same gang signs, same hopeless eyes. But this time, he walked taller. With confidence. With a reason. He met young boys rapping on the stoep, their rhymes raw and honest. He gave them notebooks. Told them his story. One by one, they started showing up at the church youth center where he offered weekend computer classes and writing workshops.
He called it: "The Lion Initiative." His slogan: "Jy is nie waar jy bly nie-jy's waar jy op pad is."
Jason's name started spreading. Radio interviews. Schools calling him to speak. His poetry went viral. He became a symbol-not of perfection, but of hope.
He wasn't a celebrity. He was real. Raw. A broken boy who rose without backup.
The Gun to His Head
CHAPTER: THE GUN TO HIS HEAD
It was just before he gave his life to Christ. Jason had taken a shortcut through the old alley behind the flats. A figure stepped out-mask on, eyes wild.
"Phone. Wallet. Or I shoot."
Jason froze. His hands trembled. But something in him whispered, "This won't be your end." He slowly handed the phone. The man cocked the gun anyway.
Then a light flickered from a nearby window-someone turned on their porch light. The man ran.
Jason fell to his knees in the dirt. "God... You just saved me. Why?"
That was the night he first went to church.
The Lion Finds Light
Jason had everything now-A good job. A name in his community. Young people looked up to him. His story had made headlines. But something inside felt... empty. He smiled for the world, but behind closed doors, he was tired. Restless. The trauma he never dealt with whispered in his sleep. Guilt over friends who died. Shame over things he did to survive.
He'd built a life from the mud-but his soul still carried the dirt.
One Sunday morning, with no real reason, he walked past a small church near his old neighbourhood. An old woman at the gate looked up, smiled, and said, "My seun, die Here wag lankal vir jou."
Jason sat at the back pew, hoodie over his head, hoping no one would recognize him. But that day, the preacher's words cut deep: "You can run from the streets. You can escape the gang. You can wear success like a crown. But until Jesus becomes your King... You'll still be a slave."
Jason broke. For the first time in years, he wept. Not from fear. Not
from pain. But from a need-for peace. For freedom. For healing. At the altar, he dropped to his knees. He didn't care who saw. He whispered, "Jesus... I've tried everything. I'm yours now."
Jason started changing. He woke up earlier to read the Word. He prayed not just for blessings-but for guidance, for others, even for his enemies.
People noticed. His joy wasn't hype anymore-it was rooted. His talks weren't just motivational-they were anointed.
Jason opened a center called "Lion's Heart Sanctuary" in Paarl - a place for broken boys, addicts, and lost souls. It had free Wi-Fi, hot meals, beds, prayer rooms, and mentorship. Every Sunday, he led Bible study in the same streets that once tried to kill him.
Gangsters came. Drug dealers cried. Teen mothers got baptized. The underworld was being flipped-by the light.
The Dream
CHAPTER: THE DREAM
Two years after giving his life to Christ, Jason had a dream.
He stood in the middle of the Paarl streets, but everything was on fire. Children cried. Mothers wept. Jason tried to help, but his hands were tied.
Then a lion appeared-white as light. It roared and broke his chains. The lion whispered, "Speak, and they will rise."
Jason woke up in tears, trembling with purpose. That morning, he began preparing his first sermon.
Shepherd of the Streets
Jason never planned to become a pastor. He thought he'd just help from the side-volunteer here, share testimony there. But God had other plans. One night in prayer, he felt it like thunder in his spirit: "I didn't just save you, Jason. I'm sending you."
He wrestled with it. Felt unworthy. "Me, Lord? The broken one? The ghetto boy? The one with scars?" But God reminded him: "My grace qualifies who the world disqualifies."
That year, Jason began his journey into ministry. He studied theology part-time, mentored by a humble pastor in Paarl. But his greatest lessons came from pain, prayer, and people.
She was a volunteer at Lion's Heart Sanctuary. Her name was Nadine-soft-spoken, with a fire for God. She saw Jason not as a speaker or survivor, but simply as a man after God's heart.
Their bond started in service: feeding the hungry, praying for addicts, walking children home from school. One day, while folding blankets after outreach, she said, "I see the lion in you... but also
the Shadows of
the shepherd." Jason smiled. A year later, she became his wife.
Jason officially launched LionHeart Church in Paarl. Not in a fancy building-but in a warehouse between two gang territories. Because that's where Jesus would've gone.
The church grew fast-not from hype, but from healing. Ex-gang members became ushers. Teen moms became worship leaders. Addicts got baptized in tanks made from old drums. Jason preached every Sunday in sneakers and a T-shirt. No stage lights. No ego. Just fire.
Years passed. Jason and Nadine had a son-Zion. Holding his boy for the first time, Jason cried hard. He looked at Nadine and whispered, "I'll be the father I never had."
Years later, grey in his beard but fire in his eyes, Pastor Jason stood before thousands at a national conference. Next to him was his son, now a young man, leading worship. Jason looked out at the crowd, many from Paarl and beyond, and said: "I had nothing.
But Jesus became my everything. Don't just escape your pastenter into Christ. Don't just chase success - chase salvation."
In Paarl, young boys still pass the center. They hear stories of Pastor Jason-the boy who survived the streets, gave his life to
18
From the Shadows of Paarl Christ, and became a father to a broken generation.
On the walls of the church is a mural: A Lion with a Bible in one paw, and the streets behind him. Beneath it, his famous words: "Jy is nie 'n fout nie... jy's 'n vuur."
The Notebook
CHAPTER: THE NOTEBOOK
On Zion's 13th birthday, Jason gave him a wrapped box. Inside was a battered old notebook-worn, weathered, holy.
"This... carried my prayers when I had no hope. My poems when I had no voice. My faith when I had none. It's yours now."
Zion opened to a page: "One day, I will not be forgotten."
Jason said, "You don't need to become me. But let this book remind you-you come from a line of lions."
Letter to the Broken Boy
EPILOGUE: LETTER TO THE BROKEN BOY
To the one reading this-
Maybe you're like me. Maybe life hit you too early. Maybe people left, pain stayed, and dreams faded.
But let me tell you-your story isn't over.
I was that boy from Paarl. I had no father, no future, no strength. But Jesus met me where I was. He gave me new life. He taught me how to roar again.
You don't have to be perfect to be chosen. You don't need money to have meaning. All you need is a heart willing to rise.
So, get up. You are not a mistake-you are a flame.
From the Shadows of Paarl
Love, Jason
Final Message from Jason
FINAL MESSAGE: TO EVERY BROKEN READER
If you're holding this book, you've already made it further than you think. You may feel lost. Tired. Abandoned. Maybe your scars scream louder than your prayers. Maybe you're still waiting for someone to notice your pain.
I was you.
But listen to me-there is purpose in your pain. Power in your tears. And a Lion who still walks with the broken.
You don't need a perfect past to have a powerful future.
Hold on. Roar louder. Rise anyway.
You are not your mistakes. You are not what they did to you.
You are not forgotten.
You are fire. You are chosen. You are loved.
- Jason
From the Shadows of Paarl
About the Author
J. Ockhuis is a storyteller from Paarl, South Africa, who writes from the heart to give hope to the voiceless.