The small town of Lephalale in Limpopo was recently caught up in a hilarious mix‑up thanks to a local biltong kiosk with a curious name.
The shop, run by Pieter (84) and his wife Annetjie Human, is officially called the Human Biltong Kiosk. The twist? Their surname is “Human” (pronounced “he‑mun”) and has nothing to do with actual people. But visitors—especially holiday‑makers and tourists—did a double‑take at the bold sign, thinking it referred to human flesh instead of a family name.
Times Live reports that bewildered customers paused, snapped photos, and even hesitated to go inside.
Frenzy caused by misinterpretation of ‘human biltong’
When something looks strange, we stop and stare. That’s exactly what happened when people saw the words “Human Biltong.”
Many thought it was literal—biltong made from humans, an idea that left jaws dropping and cameras flashing.
Pieter and Annetjie laughed at the attention.
“My wife Annetjie and I opened the kiosk 25 years ago. We never even thought the name would create a fuss—it was just our surname,” Pieter told TimesLIVE.
He added with a chuckle that the reactions are priceless.
“You should see the Americans who visit the curio shop,” he said.
“Their eyes nearly pop out. Every one of them gets out of the Kombi, stretches and glances across the road in our direction. Then their eyes go wide and they grab their camera bags.”
Clearly, the misinterpretation worked like a magnet—often startling, but drawing attention.
Of course, there is no “human” ingredient in the biltong at all.
Pieter jokingly clarified that no “Humans” are harmed in the making of their tasty dried meat. In fact, one tourist ended up wanting to be featured in the “batch” himself.
“I had a tourist come in and ask if we really made human biltong. I joked and said yes. Then he pointed to his shin and asked if I could use it. I told him the shin wouldn’t make very nice biltong—and we both laughed before he left with some of the real stuff,” Pieter recounted.
The kiosk stands just down the road from the Hi-Q filling station—on the route to Polokwane and Botswana.
According to Pieter, he and Annetjie had no dream of viral fame when they opened it a quarter-century ago.
They simply named their business after themselves and got on with the job.
Their love of biltong—and sense of humour—turned what could have been a PR headache into a heartwarming slice of local life.
