TROV + OKSIJEN

"Ex Africa semper aliquid novi,”- Out of Africa, there is always something new

What started out years ago as a casual acquaintance and professional relationship quickly turned into a call to adventure…

Lisa:

Oksijen

My retail experience started in 1989 when I was introduced to the woman who taught me how to sell, Connie de Chang. I was only 13 and living in Paraguay. We didn’t have much so if I wanted something I had to go and find the means to buy it myself. So, through my much older and probably very inappropriate friends by today’s standards, I got a job in an electronic store in downtown Asunción.

It was a tiny shop, in a gallery next to a hotel. I would be downstairs, greeting customers, while Connie stayed mostly hauled up in her little office upstairs.

One day someone came in and ask for a specific Panasonic walkman.

“Sorry, we’re out of stock” I said, and nothing else.

Connie screamed from upstairs, “show her the Sonny!”

Never again did I not offer an alternative to something if it wasn’t available.

Connie taught me the value of an experience. We had to have every sound device queued up to a song so that when we showed it to someone we just needed to press play and quite literally blow their hair back. The TVs were queued to a Top Gun sequence for maximum visual and auditory effect.

After this stint at the electronic shop I felt ready to level up and got a job to practically manage a mens clothing store. It was perfect for me. At 14 I barely had any supervision as the owner was a rally driver and always gone on either a buying trip or off to some or other car race. I was left to my own devices most of the time. I spent my days making mixed tapes and playing with the window displays and clothing arrangements. I felt very inconvenienced when my boss would show up.

In those days Benetton was all the rage. They had a massive shop in downtown Asuncion. I was too little to question how they could survive in Paraguay, but that’s another conversation. To me it was the singular most aspiration place in the entire country. I never felt even worthy of setting foot inside the shop. I always looked in from the outside taking note of the windows displays and the way the shelves weren’t crowded with stock. Everything was colour coded and it was a happy place, so much colour and joy. I’d go back to my little local store and style the windows with Benetton’s aesthetic in mind. At the time I didn’t know it was called “scarcity marketing” but I’d tell my boss that he couldn’t just stuff every item he’d brought back to sell into the shelves but that we should rather display just enough and also by colour. To his credit he let me do my thing

.For many years I dreamed of a place that would serve as a container for all my finds from travels, traders or suppliers. I’ve had sort-of-stores in my homes and online. I’ve sold to other retailers and all the while dreaming of my own space.

So when I met up with Lynn and we spoke about our brands side by side in her store in Melville I knew I had to do it. We share a love for African art and interior design. We both value the origins of an object and how it makes us feel.

Lynn:

The Heart Behind Trov

Some stories begin with a clear plan, but mine began with a feeling — a restlessness I couldn’t ignore. In 2013, while selling scooters for a living, I realised that something inside me was calling out for more. More meaning, more connection, more purpose.

On a whim and a bit of hope, I sent my CV to a recruitment agent and gently — then not-so-gently — nudged her until an opportunity appeared. I walked into the interview unaware that my life was about to shift. What I found wasn’t just a job; it was a spark that lit up a passion I didn’t even know I had. When the offer came, it felt like stepping into the life I was meant for.

For the next seven and a half years, I woke up every day doing something that fed my soul. I believed I’d found my forever work — the place I’d retire from one day. But life, as it often does, had other plans.

Then came COVID. The world changed overnight, and with it, the sense of home I thought I had. Making the decision to resign and leave a place I loved was heartbreaking. I had no plan, only a deep knowing that I couldn’t stay. Those months that followed were quiet, uncertain, and honestly, heavy. I tried my hand at making bath salts just to keep myself occupied, all the while wondering how I could continue doing what I loved — but in a way that truly aligned with my values.

And then, as if the universe knew I needed a nudge, an old client turned friend reached out and asked if I could put together an export order for her. I said yes without hesitation. That one request rippled into another, and suddenly the relationships I had nurtured for years were calling me back to what I loved most.

From packing orders in my spare room…
to a rooftop workshop in Wynberg…
to a beautiful showroom in Rosebank where I learned, grew, stumbled, and pivoted…
to packing it all up once again and rebuilding from home…

Every step felt uncertain, yet every step carried me closer to where I was meant to be.

And then came Melville. A small, charming space that felt right the moment I walked in. I took it on instinct — the same instinct that had carried me through all the change — and from that day forward, the business has only grown stronger, more intentional, more aligned.

At the heart of everything I do is a simple truth: fair trade, storytelling, and the magic of African artefacts. I am here to honour the hands that create, the communities that craft, and the heritage woven into every piece. My work is to share these treasures with the world, not just as objects, but as living stories.

This journey has been messy, miraculous, humbling, and deeply rewarding — and it continues to unfold. What began as restlessness has become a calling. What once felt uncertain has become a business rooted in purpose.

And every day, I am grateful for where it has led me — and for all the beauty still to come.

TROV + OKSIJEN

Together we’re offering a cozy destination shop with deep roots. Our offering is unique pieces, each telling a story about where it comes from. Our focus is on pieces that are special and individually chosen for their stories and also because we love them.

They say brick-and-mortar stores are dead, but I don’t know so much. There is still something special about discovering a beautiful object that speaks to you. Going into a store, having a sensory experience, and being enveloped in the story it tells is something I can remember and recall years later. You don’t get that by shopping online, no matter how well the experience is designed to mimic it.

The pleasure of buying something doesn’t lie so much in owning a beautiful or useful thing. For me it is in the discovery, finding something that fits just right in someone’s home: a client’s, a friend’s, a family member’s, or my own. It is almost like the feeling you get when the final puzzle piece completes the picture, when a collection feels complete, or when a circle finally closes. I find it deeply satisfying.

We invite you to join us on this journey we’ve dreamed up and come along for the ride, as the proverb says:

“Ex Africa semper aliquid novi,”- “Out of Africa, there is always something new”.