Spekboom Indoors: My Little Forest of Sunshine
When I first brought home a little pot of Portulacaria afra, lovingly nicknamed Spekboom, I never imagined the quiet transformation it would bring to my indoor world. It wasn’t flamboyant. It didn’t shout for attention. But over time, it settled into its sunny corner like it had always belonged—an unassuming slice of Eastern Cape charm, right there on my windowsill.
There’s something grounding about Spekboom. Its rounded, jade-like leaves grow in cheerful clusters, and the reddish stems give it just enough architectural character to stand out without overwhelming a room. And once I learned it’s sometimes called the “elephant bush”? That sealed the deal. I imagined herds of elephants feasting on it in the wild, while mine grew quietly under a north-facing window, far from the veld but full of life.
What I’ve come to love most about growing Spekboom indoors is how adaptable and low-maintenance it is. It’s the kind of plant that forgives forgetful watering, smiles back at bright light, and doesn’t hold grudges when the heater dries out the air a little too much. It’s the perfect flatmate—low drama, high charm.
When I first potted mine, I chose a wide, shallow ceramic pot with a good drainage hole. I used a gritty succulent mix, the same blend I use for my Echeveria, and added a few small stones at the bottom to be safe. I nestled the little Spekboom in the centre, surrounded it with a few decorative pebbles, and gave it a gentle first watering. That was the start of something quietly beautiful.
In terms of light, I’ve found Spekboom loves a bright spot indoors—ideally near a window that gets good indirect sunlight, or a few hours of direct morning rays. My plant lives near a large window in the living room, where it basks happily all day. If the light dips too low in winter, I pull it closer to the sill and rotate the pot now and then to keep the growth even.
Watering is wonderfully simple. I wait until the soil is completely dry before giving it a drink—and when I do, I water thoroughly, letting the excess drain out freely. In the cooler months, it barely needs any water at all. Sometimes I go two or three weeks without lifting the watering can, and it still keeps its plump, glossy leaves.
Pruning is more an art than a task. Every now and then, if a stem gets too leggy or I want to encourage a bushier shape, I snip it back with clean shears. Those clippings? I let them dry for a day or two, then pop them into soil to start new plants. I have little Spekbooms growing in mugs, jars, and even a cracked teacup on the windowsill. It’s like a mini indoor forest that keeps expanding.
Beyond the aesthetics and ease, there’s something deeply comforting about having Spekboom around. Maybe it’s the fact that it’s known for its ability to absorb carbon dioxide, or maybe it’s that it just looks so full of quiet purpose. Either way, it brings a sense of balance and peace to the room—like a leafy little sage that just knows how to be.
There’s a moment I always think back to: I was working late one night with the soft light of my desk lamp spilling over the room, and I glanced over to see the Spekboom casting its gentle shadow against the wall. No fuss, no fanfare—just presence. I smiled and got back to work, somehow a little more grounded than I had been the moment before.