Caleigh Swart sits cross-legged on her living room carpet in Durban, tracing the scars of past victories and the memories of a bath filled with tears and resolve.
Simamkele Tutsheni, meanwhile, straps on her fireproof boots in a humming Cape Town firehouse, already sweat-soaked before dawn. This weekend, their separate worlds, one meticulously ordered, the other unrelentingly wild, will collide under the bright lights of Emperors Palace, vying for the IBO All Africa super bantamweight title.
Swart’s story begins not as a fairytale, but as a tale of relentless, self-forged destiny. Raised by a father who believed a proper jab should be as natural as the first step, her childhood was a blend of karate lessons and focused ambition. She was “throwing punches before [she] could walk.”
Her father, a Bruce Lee disciple, taught discipline and self-improvement, tenets that, even now, govern the intricate footwork and blinding hand speed honed as a South African karate champion.
Yet, the martial arts prodigy didn’t slip into the boxing world by some act of fate. Swart carved her way with academic precision. She is a tax advisor, thriving in a demanding Cape Town firm where deadlines and heavy bags co-exist in a strange but disciplined symbiosis. “I get the work done,” she notes, nights and weekends a small price for chasing her boxing dreams. The digital rhythm of spreadsheets by day yields to the staccato thump of leather by dusk.
Swart’s transformation from amateur contender to professional standout (undefeated in five fights) was catalysed by heartbreak. The sudden loss of her father left her rudderless, dutifully completing her degree, but the ring’s call proved irresistible.
Her crucible came during the South African Nationals. Overlooked for selection, she slashed three kilograms in two days for a last-minute opening, enduring brutal self-denial, with nothing but cold water and grit, for a chance at glory. Three consecutive victories later, she was national champion and “Best Elite Female” among 400 entrants. “The suffering is worth it now because you’re gonna become champion,” she resolved.
Some people break under such strain; Swart was forged.
So what would unnerve a woman welded from pressure and pain? Perhaps, only an opponent who relishes the flames of real danger: Simamkele Tutsheni.
While Swart juggles tax forms, Tutsheni wields an axe and hose, racing up smoke-choked stairwells as a Western Cape firefighter. For her, fear isn’t a factor, it’s a daily adversary vanquished alongside house fires and wild blazes. The intensity of the boxing ring pales next to the infernoes she faces on Table Mountain. “We help protect the environment,” she says, underselling the courage required when every shift could be a matter of life and death.
Tutsheni’s athletic journey began with rugby in Ngqeleni in the Eastern Cape, tackling boys twice her size, before migrating to Langa and stumbling upon a boxing class at a local fire station in 2020.
“I wanted to fight legally,” she jokes, but quickly pivoted into professional ambition. Only five amateur bouts, then a leap into the paid ranks where she now boasts a pristine 7-0 record. Her endurance was tested most strenuously against the formidable Adidya Mimu. “I wouldn’t have reached the sixth round if I didn’t have stamina,” she notes, her power and resilience forged in a gym filled with larger, hungrier sparring partners, often men.
Recently relocated to Wynberg, training under the fierce Zimbabwean coach Felix Vengenayi, Tutsheni is a model of ascendant ambition. She seeks more than personal glory: “I want to make a name for myself, and for females,” she asserts, willing South African women’s boxing toward overdue recognition.
Her mother Nangamso, once sceptical about rugby, now beams with pride from ringside. For Tutsheni, the stakes are simple: “My main goal isn’t to win money, but to win.”
As Swart meticulously crafts a game plan with her team, focusing on the unknowns of a gruelling 10-round bout, she describes Tutsheni as her “most skilled opponent yet, very quick, throws a lot of straight punches.” Both have fought (and beaten) common opponents, their rivalry brewed in parallel storylines that now converge.
Swart’s daily routine is a study in discipline, resilience, and self-invention: early meditation, surfing to recharge, evenings spent catching up on tax files, meticulously kept manifestation journals. Hers is a life of balance: intellect and intensity, vulnerability and ambition. “Be yourself,” she advises, “the suffering is worth it.”
Tutsheni, by contrast, brings the fire, literally and metaphorically. Her days blur between house alarms and gym bells, her ambitions stripped of pretense. She isn’t anxious about facing another unbeaten foe; she’s already faced down worse. Loss simply doesn’t enter her mental equation. Only winning, only survival, only pride.
Both women are pioneers in a landscape where South African women’s boxing remains underappreciated, struggling to match rugby’s or cricket’s rise. Yet, in their own ways, they are icons, and this bout amplifies the sport’s heartbeat.
When the bell rings on Saturday, it will be more than Swart’s strategic precision facing Tutsheni’s raw athleticism. It will be a clash between meticulous self-discipline and heat-tempered bravery, a collision of spirits determined to redefine the fight, not just for themselves, but for every South African woman waiting to be seen.
