During the week, the streets of Braamfontein and the CBD are abuzz with Joburgers on the move–some packed into taxis blasting music, others riding Rea Vaya buses, and Wits students shuffling between classes. Weekend evenings similarly bring an energy to the area–party-goers set out for a night of groove, and amapiano spills out of clubs. Sunday mornings, though? The streets are mostly quiet. As the movements that typically mark these spaces fade, something else takes over: bikes.

With its car-centric infrastructure, pothole-ridden roads, and sparse bike lanes, Johannesburg is far from ideal for cyclists. When people think of cyclists in Joburg, the image that often comes to mind tends to be either white suburbanites biking for recreation or Black people biking because they cannot afford another means of transport. Rarely do people imagine Black people biking for leisure or fun, but that’s starting to change.

A growing Black biking community is reshaping Johannesburg’s cycling culture—expanding ideas of who a cyclist is and opening up new ways to move through the city and express oneself in it. At the center of this shift are groups like Street Friends, who’ve spent the past five years hosting Sunday morning rides from Braamfontein, drawing anywhere from 15 to 50 bikers––mostly men in their 20s and 30s from Soweto and other parts of the city. Banditz Bicycle Club and Sentech Croozers are also key players in the scene, each with their unique style and feel.

Sentech Croozers are the youngest of the three, with members ranging from 12 to 19, most of whom come from Brixton and Sophiatown. They ride stretched-out bikes that they’ve built themselves and spin them in tight circles, mimicking the car spinning culture common in South African townships. Inspired by the cars used for spinning, their bikes are decked out with old license plates, fuzzy dice, and oversized speakers strapped to the back. Banditz Bicycle Club—a play on how groups of Black men are often perceived as criminals or bandits—began as friends biking around their neighborhoods in Soweto. It’s since grown into a bike shop in Johannesburg, started by Titi Mashele and Tebogo Galagala, where they now host their weekly Homies Night Ride. And then there’s Street Friends, a group that consistently draws one of the largest crowds.

While Street Friends is led by many, it has become closely associated with one rider in particular: Itumeleng Kwenda, better known as Maestro. Raised in Soweto and now living in Braamfontein, Maestro embodies the “Braam cool kid” vibe. Both Maestro and other members of the group have become fixtures among the city’s young Black creatives. Members of Street Friends primarily ride fixies—bikes without brakes or gears—requiring a high level of control and skill that, in turn, gives rise to a distinct coolness; a kind of confidence and swag that comes from mastering something difficult, but making it look easy. They move throughout the city with a spaciousness and freedom that is rare to witness, and even less common to experience.

For many, the bike is the place where they meet themselves—where they get to feel, and be who they are, on their own terms. Bikers often post pictures and videos on Instagram, documenting themselves riding through the city, accompanied by captions like: “The movement that drives me into my own world,” “Child at heart,” or, simply, “Joy.” While biking may have been the initial draw to join these groups, it quickly fades into the background. As Titi explained, “It’s not really about biking. It’s about connecting with your inner child. It’s about doing hoodrat shit with your hoodrat friends.”

This idea that biking is about more than just biking—that it taps into something deeper, simultaneously interior and collective—is poignantly conveyed in the name of Street Friends’ weekly ride, which, playing on the familiar ritual of church, they call “Sunday Service.” Indeed, for bikers, the ride functions as a kind of service—to themselves and each other—as they create a space for expression, connection, movement, and freedom. While many bikers grew up spending Sunday mornings in church, today they gather in the streets with their friends.

Though these groups are not explicitly political—and reject the assumption that Black people taking up space must always be framed as such—on March 30, Palestinian Land Day, Street Friends hosted the Great Ride of Return. The ride, organized in collaboration with the Gaza Sunbrids—a Palestinian para-cycling team that uses bikes to deliver community-led aid in Gaza— honors the Great March of Return demonstrations that began in 2018, demanding Palestinian right of return.

Although this ride has taken place in cities around the world, Street Friends was the first to host it on the African continent. Bikers attached Palestinian flags to their bikes and draped them around their shoulders. Sound filled the streets as bikers chanted “Free, Free Palestine,” and blasted the music of local artists like iPhupho L’ka Biko and The Brother Moves On. Cars honked in support, and people in queues for ATMs, noticing the flags, began chanting, unprompted: “From the River to the Sea, Palestine will be Free.” Bikers stopped at landmarks like Mandela Bridge and Gandhi Square, raising flags, chanting, and taking photos. As if to say: we are here.

Like all of Street Friends’ rides, this was about more than just biking. It was about expression, movement, and freedom. A moment of presence–of Black people moving through a city that, not so long ago, they could not move through freely. It was a service, in solidarity with Palestinians, whose freedom of movement and very lives continue to be so violently denied.