I still can't shake it off
On the long road between Johannesburg and Cape Town, a man named Jerome Joel drove at walking pace behind a skateboarder for over two weeks — not seeking recognition, only doing the work asked of him. When the journey ended, the skateboarder, Jason Vanporppal, arranged a surprise that transformed quiet service into visible gratitude: a brand-new Volvo, waiting at a dealership Joel entered unsuspecting. It is an old story, told freshly — that loyalty offered without expectation is sometimes the very thing that finds its way back to you.
- A continental skateboarding expedition from East Africa to Cape Town nearly collapsed when visa complications scattered the original support crew, forcing the Winnie Mabaso Foundation to improvise a last-minute escort for the final leg.
- For 15 to 16 days, Jerome Joel crept along South African roads at 15 km/h — part bodyguard, part photographer, part cheerleader — in the kind of unglamorous proximity that quietly builds real bonds.
- Vanporppal crossed the finish line in Cape Town and immediately turned his attention to a secret: coordinating with a Johannesburg Volvo dealership to stage a surprise that Joel never saw coming.
- Joel walked into the dealership expecting routine business and walked out shaking, the owner of a car he had done nothing to ask for and everything to deserve.
- The reward is now formalizing into a four-month brand ambassadorship, turning an accidental friendship forged on hot asphalt into a partnership visible on the open road.
Jerome Joel's assignment was straightforward: drive behind a skateboarder, keep him safe, take some photos. The Winnie Mabaso Foundation had handed him the role after visa troubles dismantled the original support team for Jason Vanporppal's continental expedition — a journey that had begun in East Africa and was pushing toward Cape Town.
For 15 to 16 days, Joel, 44, became Vanporppal's shadow on the South African road, maintaining roughly 15 kilometers per hour — the quiet, grinding pace of a man on a board crossing distance. He was escort, photographer, motivator, and witness. In that shared heat and road noise, something unplanned took root between the two men.
When Vanporppal finally rolled into Cape Town, he turned his energy toward a secret. He coordinated with a Volvo dealership in Johannesburg and arranged for Joel to walk in unsuspecting. The staff played along, showing him vehicles, letting the moment build — until it broke open and Joel understood that the car in front of him was his. His hands began to shake. "I still can't shake it off," he said.
Vanporppal had kept the plan airtight. "It was so hard to keep this a secret," he admitted. The foundation that had placed these two men in proximity had, without intending to, created the conditions for something larger than logistics.
For four months, Joel will drive the Volvo as a brand ambassador — a man who showed up to do a job and left with a friendship and a vehicle that says someone noticed.
Jerome Joel was doing a job. He was supposed to drive behind a skateboarder for a couple of weeks, keep him safe, take some photos, maybe offer encouragement. That was the assignment from the Winnie Mabaso Foundation, which had stepped in to salvage the final leg of Jason Vanporppal's continental skateboarding expedition after visa troubles had scattered the original support team across borders.
Vanporppal had started in East Africa and was determined to reach Cape Town. For the South African portion—Johannesburg to the coast—Joel, 44, became his shadow. For 15 to 16 days, he drove behind the skateboarder at a crawl, maintaining roughly 15 kilometers per hour, the speed at which a human on a board can sustain forward motion across distance. The work was unglamorous: he was safety escort, photographer, laundry service, motivator, and witness. The two men spent that time together in the heat and the road noise, and something happened that neither had planned for. They became friends.
When Vanporppal rolled into Cape Town and completed what he had set out to do, he made a decision. The skateboarder arranged a surprise. He coordinated with a Volvo dealership in Johannesburg and orchestrated a moment that would upend Joel's ordinary week. The plan was simple in its generosity: give Joel a brand-new car. Not a loaner. Not a promotional stunt. A car he would own for four months and drive as an ambassador for the brand, turning his unexpected friendship into something visible on the road.
Joel had no warning. He walked into the dealership thinking it was routine business. The staff played along, showing him various vehicles, letting the moment build. When the reality of what was happening finally broke through—when he understood that this car was his—his hands began to shake. "I love it, hey," he said, his voice still catching the disbelief. "This is amazing. I still can't shake it off."
Vanporppal had kept the secret tight. "We came here to Johannesburg to surprise him with his brand-new car," the skateboarder said before the reveal. "It was so hard to keep this a secret. He still has no clue." The foundation that had made the final leg possible—that had assigned Joel to this role in the first place—had inadvertently created the conditions for something larger than logistics. They had put two people in proximity long enough for them to matter to each other. The car was the visible proof of that.
For four months, Joel will carry the Volvo's badge. He will be a walking advertisement for a brand, but he will also be something else: a man who showed up to do a job and left with a friendship and a vehicle that says someone noticed. The skateboarding expedition is over. The real journey, for Joel, has just begun.
Notable Quotes
We came here to Johannesburg to surprise him with his brand-new car. It was so hard to keep this a secret. He still has no clue.— Jason Vanporppal, skateboarder
I love it, hey. This is amazing. I still can't shake it off.— Jerome Joel, upon learning the car was his
The Hearth Conversation Another angle on the story
What was it like, those 15 days at 15 kilometers per hour? That's not fast.
It's not. You're moving at the speed of exhaustion and determination. You see everything. You have time to talk, to notice when someone's hurting, when they need water, when they need to hear that they're going to make it.
And Vanporppal—did he know he was going to do this? Give Joel the car?
Not from the start. You don't plan friendship. You plan logistics. The friendship happened because they were together in that slow, necessary way. By the end, it was obvious what had to happen.
The Winnie Mabaso Foundation put them together. They were solving a problem—visa issues, a broken team.
Right. They needed a driver. They got a driver. But they also created the space where two people could become something to each other. That's not what foundations usually measure.
Four months with the car. Then what?
Then Joel goes back to his life. But he's not the same person who walked into that dealership. He's someone who mattered enough to be remembered.