Today on Bush Radio’s Sakhisizwe,
we had an inspiring conversation with NOAH Neighbourhood Old Age Homes Director
Victor Southgate about how the organisation is changing the way we think about
ageing in South Africa.
Founded in 1981, NOAH is a
pioneering non-profit organisation that supports older persons over the age of
60 who are living on limited incomes. But NOAH offers far more than shelter and
care — it creates spaces where elders can experience dignity, purpose,
belonging, and hope.
Starting with its first home
in Woodstock, NOAH has grown into a model that focuses on empowering older
people rather than controlling their lives. Victor explained that NOAH is not a
traditional old age home system. Instead, it provides support, guidance, and
community while allowing residents to make their own decisions and maintain
their independence.
At the heart of NOAH’s work
is an Asset-Based Community-Driven Development (ABCD) approach. This means the
organisation focuses not on what people lack, but on what they already bring —
their stories, knowledge, skills, resilience, and relationships. NOAH believes
older people are valuable community members who still have much to contribute.
The organisation’s work
stretches across housing, healthcare, wellness, and social development.
Residents contribute a small rental fee, reinforcing dignity and shared
responsibility within the community. Healthcare support includes wellness
programmes, assistance for chronic illnesses such as diabetes, healing
programmes, group sessions, and hotline support for members in need.
Victor also shared how NOAH
creates emotional support systems among the elders themselves. Members are
trained to support one another and “hold space” for each other through
difficult moments. One touching example is the friendship bench initiative —
when someone is sitting at a bench, it signals that they may need someone to
talk to, encouraging connection and care within the community.
The conversation also
highlighted the importance of changing how society views older people,
especially those living in poverty. Too often, elders are overlooked or
marginalised. NOAH challenges this thinking by creating environments where
older people continue to thrive, contribute, and inspire.
From projects in communities
such as Khayelitsha to farming initiatives and wellness programmes, NOAH is
showing that ageing can be approached differently — with respect, compassion,
and community at the centre.
What NOAH is doing at the
intersection of housing, health, wellness, enterprise, and community-building
is more than social service work. It is a reimagining of what it means to grow
old with dignity in South Africa.
Their work reminds us that
older people are not problems to be managed, but assets, knowledge-holders, and
community anchors who deserve care, respect, and meaningful opportunities to
continue shaping society.
To learn more or support the
work of NOAH, visit NOAH Neighbourhood Old Age Homes.
Please visit their website or reach out directly info@noah.org.za/
(0)21 447 6334. Every connection, every donation, and every conversation
She has spent nearly five decades in Mitchell's Plain not just living there, but building something inside it. Dr Alicia English is a journalist, editor, children's book author, and international award-winning social entrepreneur with 28 years of experience in publishing. She holds a professional doctorate in business administration and an MBA from the Institute of Social Entrepreneurship in Switzerland. But ask her who she is, and the answer she gives first is simpler: a mother, a community member, and a storyteller.
We recently sat down with Dr English to talk about community journalism, the responsibility that comes with telling people's stories, AI in the newsroom, and what she would say to a young girl in Mitchell's Plain who wants to change the world.
For Dr English, community work is not a professional commitment it is a personal one. She lost her husband to COVID-19 in 2021 and has since been raising three sons in the same neighbourhood where she grew up. That reality shapes everything she does.
"I'm involved in a community that I grew up in, but I'm also being able to create something that my children can be proud of," she says. "They can be proud of their mom, but they can also be proud of living in Mitchell's Plain."
With Mitchell's Plain turning 50 this year, that sense of legacy weighs on her. "What's the next 50 years of Mitchell's Plain going to look like? Hopefully my children would spend quite a number of years still here and what is that Mitchell's Plain going to look like for them?"
Dr English launched her journalism career in 1998, choosing community newspapers over commercial media a deliberate choice she does not regret. When asked why, she does not hesitate.
"People invite us into their homes and into their hearts. They trust us with their stories, their experiences, their memories the successes, but also the failures and the challenges."
She is open about the tension between community journalism and the clickbait-driven culture of digital media. "Beyond that headline, it is actually somebody's life, somebody's experience. That is something we cannot take lightly. It's a trust relationship and we need to treasure it for what it is."
Over her career she has edited across wildly different publications, a petroleum company's publication for pump attendants, The Big Issue magazine sold by street vendors and in each case the lesson was the same: "It's not about you. You have to understand who your audience is and what is important to them. Once you do that, you can communicate and connect in a way that they will continue to trust you."
Dr English is pragmatic about artificial intelligence neither dismissive nor uncritical. "AI is here. It's not going anywhere. We can decide to use it as a tool effectively, or we can be like an ostrich and put our heads in the sand."
But she insists on the journalist's responsibility to remain in control. She uses AI as a starting point for her own ideas, not a replacement for them and she is specific about how: "Put your ideas in, specify your tone, give context. And always, always ask AI to provide sources. Click on those links. Follow them. Verify where the information is drawn from."
She raises a pointed example: ask AI to write about Mitchell's Plain, and it will likely surface only the community's struggles. "It tends to forget about all the greatness that also comes from the community." That gap between algorithm and lived truth is exactly why human editorial judgement still matters.
"We as practitioners have got to ensure that we double-check our facts because you could end up destroying lives. You are not the tool or the fool being used by AI. You are the one who's in control."
After losing her husband during the pandemic, Dr English left her editorial position and started her own publishing company this time focused entirely on children's books. What followed was the clearest expression yet of her philosophy of social entrepreneurship: identifying a problem and engineering a solution.
The numbers are stark.
Around 81% of Grade 4 learners in South Africa struggle to read with understanding. Approximately 43% of households have no books at all.
"If I had my way, we would be publishing books that cost less than a loaf of bread," she says, "because I know as a parent if you put me in a bookstore and give me 500 rand, I'm going to think about milk and bread first." The real need for literacy resources, she argues, sits precisely in the communities least likely to be served by mainstream publishing.
Her work through the Centre for Social Innovation and the Whitaker Peace and Development Initiatives extends this same logic: use entrepreneurial thinking to address community challenges, whether in literacy, access to services, or economic development on the Cape Flats.
What she would tell a young girl in Mitchell's Plain
Asked for a single piece of advice, Dr English offers three, each one a pillar of how she has lived her own life.
1.Dare to dream
"I always dreamt growing up in Mitchell's Plain. I still dream big dreams. Don't let where you come from shrink what you imagine for yourself."
2.Believe that you can
"It doesn't mean everything will come easy. But have confidence in yourself. Have goals. Believe you can reach them."
3.Find your mentors and never apologise for where you're from
"It doesn't have to be a professor. It can be your mom, your teacher, your church leader. Reach out to people and ask for help. And be proud of who you are."
To learn more about Dr Alicia English's work in children's literacy and social entrepreneurship:
www.oliveexchange.net
alicia@oliveexchange.co.za
The Olive Exchange (Facebook)
081 593 3690 (WhatsApp)
A conversation with Nozizwe Madlala-Routledge, Executive
Director of Embrace Dignity on prostitution, power, and the fight for a law
that finally protects the vulnerable.
Every morning in cities across South Africa, children walk
to school past women standing on street corners. They ask their parents
questions. And too often, those parents don't know what to say. It is precisely
this everyday silence this collective discomfort that Nozizwe Madlala-Routledge
has spent her life refusing to accept.
A former Deputy Minister of Health, former Deputy Speaker of
Parliament, and lifelong anti-apartheid activist, Madlala-Routledge co-founded
Embrace Dignity in 2010, a Cape Town-based women's human rights organisation dedicated
to confronting one of South Africa's most misunderstood forms of gender-based
violence: prostitution.
Sitting down with Bush Radio during Human Rights Month. This
is what she had to say.
"In every family, we come across these issues. It's
better if families can talk openly together so that the children are empowered
and can make informed decisions."
Most South Africans don't realise that the law criminalising
prostitution dates back to 1957 the Immorality Act, passed during apartheid at
a time when interracial relationships were themselves illegal. Decades later,
its legacy continues to fall most heavily on those it was never designed to
protect.
"The law victimises only those selling sex,"
Madlala-Routledge explains. "We find that it is women who sell sex who are
arrested by the police, harassed by the police, who are made to pay a fine and
a lot of the time, they have to go and sell sex simply to be able to pay that
fine. They find themselves caught in the system and they can't get out."
This is total criminalisation: both buying and selling sex
are illegal. But in practice, enforcement lands almost exclusively on women
already pushed to the margins by unemployment, poverty, and structural
inequality.
Embrace Dignity is not calling for things to stay as they
are. Nor are they calling for full decriminalisation, which they argue would
expand demand and normalise harm. Instead, they are advocating for what
Madlala-Routledge calls "the equality law” sometimes called the Nordic
Model, first passed in Sweden in 1999 and since adopted by Norway, Canada,
France, and Ireland.
The principle is clear: decriminalise the selling of sex;
maintain criminalisation for buying, pimping, and brothel-keeping.
"Those who are selling sex act obviously out of
desperation should be totally decriminalised themselves," she says.
"But not the sex industry. Because the harms are inherent in the system of
prostitution."
The practical difference matters enormously. Under the
current law, a woman cannot report abuse without incriminating herself. She
cannot carry a condom without it being used as evidence against her. She cannot
go to the police if a buyer refuses to pay, assaults her, or worse.
Madlala-Routledge does not allow the conversation to stay
abstract for long. She describes a woman who came to Embrace Dignity's
attention recently, her arms marked with injection sites from where two men had
kept her captive in a garage for two weeks, forcibly injecting her with hard
drugs.
"They inject these drugs and make them do things they
would not do normally. Very abusive." The sex trade, she insists, is
increasingly inseparable from drug trafficking and organised crime. "It
thrives largely because it's about trafficking the drugs."
And then there is the corruption. Police find men and women
together. The women are arrested. The men pay bribes and walk free.
"The police benefit from a situation of exploitation.
The woman is being exploited. They can see that. And yet they take a bribe from
the men, because men don't like to be exposed."
"A man says: I've bought you, so you need to do
anything I ask you to do — even if it's violent. When money comes into it, this
is when the violence comes in."
One of Embrace Dignity's core arguments is about where blame
and shame are currently directed and where they should be. HIV statistics track
women. Police arrest women. Communities stigmatise women. But the men who buy
sex, carry infection, refuse condoms, and perpetrate violence remain largely
invisible in the data and in public discourse.
"Nobody is looking at the buyers to say how many have
HIV," Madlala-Routledge points out. "And yet we know that HIV is sexually
transmitted. So whoever has it, passes it on."
The stigma, she argues, must shift. "Accountability and
stigma must go to those who exploit them. And those who exploit them are those
who buy them for sex."
A Court Case That
Could Change Everything
The legal and political landscape is in flux. A case brought
by SWEAT (Sex Worker Education and Advocacy Taskforce) calling for the full
decriminalisation of prostitution is headed to the Western Cape High Court a
ruling with potentially national implications. Embrace Dignity is opposing it.
At the same time, a government draft bill that included
decriminalisation as a pillar of the national gender-based violence and femicide
strategy was introduced and then quietly withdrawn.
"There's no political will," Madlala-Routledge
says plainly. "Political parties need votes and they don't want to talk
about this issue openly. And this affects women largely and girls. They are
dying. And yet political parties are shying away."
For fifteen years, Embrace Dignity has held this ground insisting
that prostitution is not a choice freely made, but a system shaped by poverty,
violence, and demand. That women in the sex trade are not criminals to be
punished, but people to be protected. That a law change is not only possible it
is proven.
"There's absolutely no constitutional right for men to
buy sex," Madlala-Routledge says, with the calm certainty of someone who
has been saying this for a very long time. "Sex should be about a mutually
equal relationship. When money comes into it, this is when the violence comes
in."
Take Action with
Embrace Dignity
Sign the CAPA Charter — the Coalition for the Abolition of
Prostitution in Africa — and join a growing movement across the continent to
end commercial sexual exploitation.
There are artists who make music, and then there are artists
who become music whose lives are so knotted with contradiction, pain, and faith
that every song feels like a confession. Johnny Cash was that kind of artist.
And now, his story is taking the stage at the Baxter Studio Theatre in a
production that has been captivating Cape Town audiences for over a year.
Sin and Salvation: The Story of Johnny Cash runs from the
25th to the 28th of March 2026, and if the buzz is anything to go by, it's a
show not easily forgotten.
How It Began
The production has an almost fittingly organic origin story.
Director Nigel Vermaas explains that the whole thing began with Jamie Jupiter actor,
musician, and lifelong Cash devotee. Long before there was a show, Jupiter was
weaving Johnny Cash songs into his regular concerts, drawn to the music in a
way he couldn't quite shake.
It was Jonny Blundell, a longtime collaborator who had
worked with Jupiter on recordings, who first saw the potential. "You
should really do a show around this," Blundell told him. "It's such
rich material." From there, the pieces came together: a script, two more
extraordinarily versatile musicians Sarah McArthur, whose voice Vermaas
describes simply as "from heaven," and Daniel Franks, a powerhouse on
bass who also plays the authority figures Cash constantly clashed with and
eventually, Vermaas himself stepping in to direct.
"I always say don't let musicians act, generally,"
Vermaas laughs. "But this time, these musicians all act."
The Tension at the
Heart of Cash
What makes Cash such compelling material isn't the music
alone it's the man behind it. Here was someone who preached the gospel and
wrestled with addiction in the same breath, who grew up in hardship and never
quite left it behind, even as fame found him. Putting that on stage without it
becoming preachy or worse, judgmental is a genuine creative challenge.
Vermaas describes Cash's faith as something communicated not
through speech, but through song. A few specific songs carry that spiritual
weight, while the rest of the show breathes with everything else Cash was:
funny, dark, rebellious, and achingly human. "There are comedy songs,
there are songs about murder," Vermaas notes. The show opens, pointedly,
with Cash's famous Prison appearance a man performing for people society had
cast aside, finding friendship with them.
Rick Rubin and the
American Recordings
One of the production's most fascinating threads is the
story of Cash's late-career renaissance. When producer Rick Rubin a man better
known for hip-hop and alternative rock called Cash and told him his career
wasn't where it should be, most people might have hung up. Cash didn't.
The result was the American Recordings series: spare,
stripped-down albums where Cash sat with a guitar and sang his own songs, folk
songs, spirituals, murder ballads, and compositions passed along by Rubin from
the artists he knew. It was a reinvention that felt, somehow, like a
homecoming.
In the production, Jonny Blundell plays Rick Rubin and the
cast performs these recordings live. One standout is the old American Spiritual
God's Gonna Cut You Down, which the company has recorded and which gives you a
real sense of what wait in the theatre: raw, unhurried, and steeped in
something ancient.
Worth Seeing
Sin and Salvation is the kind of production that reminds you
why live theatre exists. It's not a tribute act, and it's not a jukebox
musical. It's four gifted, multidisciplinary performers telling a story that
still resonates about a man who lived loudly, sinned openly, and kept reaching
for something he believed in.
It would be a shame to miss it.
Sin and Salvation: The Story of Johnny Cash runs at the
Baxter Studio Theatre, 25–28 March 2026. Evening performances start at 8 p.m.,
with a Saturday matinee on the 28th at 3 p.m.
The School Placement Crisis in Western Cape: When
Access to Education Becomes a Legal Battle
A
conversation with education advocates on the front lines
With approximately 7,500 children still awaiting
school placement for the 2026 academic year despite the Western Cape Education
Department's reported 96% placement rate, families across the province are
facing an urgent crisis. What does it mean when 4% of students are left behind?
For thousands of families, it means constitutional rights violated, futures
disrupted, and children at risk.
In a recent Bush Advice Program discussion, three
education advocates shared insights from the front lines of this crisis: Abeada
Van Neel from Eerste River Advice Office, Wesley Moodley from Centre of
Excellence, and Ziyanda Mncono-Chaule (Sister-in-Law) from Banjatwa Magazi
Attorneys. Their perspectives reveal a system struggling under pressure,
administrative failures, and the human cost of delayed placements.
Understanding
the Constitutional Right to Education
Section 29 of South Africa's Constitution guarantees
everyone the right to basic education. Unlike other socioeconomic rights, this
right is not subject to progressive realization, meaning it must be fulfilled
immediately, without delays or excuses.
"This places a direct obligation on the Western
Cape Education Department to actually place these children at schools,"
explained Ziyanda. "The delays and other administrative errors are never
an excuse. These are children that have this right."
This constitutional protection is particularly
significant because it applies to entry levels of basic education, ensuring
that every child must be placed in school regardless of capacity constraints,
administrative backlog, or infrastructure limitations.
The
Reality on the Ground: What Advice Officers See
When parents finally arrive at an advice office
seeking help, they've already been through an exhausting journey. According to
Abeada Van Neel, "by the time a parent walks into an advice office for
assistance, they have been everywhere. They have been to every school. They've
been standing in long queues."
These parents are understandably frustrated, having
spent time and money they don't have. Many feel they've failed their child,
even though the failure lies with the system, not with them.
The
Digital Divide Challenge
Wesley Moodley highlighted a critical barrier that
often goes unrecognized: the shift to online applications. While parts of South
Africa have migrated to online systems, this creates significant obstacles for
families in marginalized communities.
"Realistically, on the Cape Flats, the Townships,
not everybody can or is able to do online applications. People don't have data.
People don't have internet. People don't have laptops," Moodley explained.
He emphasized that more could be done at primary schools to assist learners and
parents transitioning from grade 7 to grade 8, as "most parents need
somebody to guide them, to walk them and to mentor them."
Legal
Protections: What Parents Need to Know
When a child is turned away from multiple schools,
parents have legal recourse. The Constitution is clear: a child cannot simply
be told there's no space.
"The right to education means that a child cannot
be turned away from school," stated Abeada. "The state has a duty to
find a place for the child. Lack of infrastructure is not a valid excuse. The
courts are clear."
Ziyanda emphasized that capacity restraints cannot be
used as a defence against fulfilling constitutional obligations. The Education
Department must make means for immediate placement, even if that admission is
provisional while a permanent solution is found.
The
Administrative Maze: Why Parents Get Lost
One of the most frustrating aspects of the placement
crisis is how parents are sent from pillar to post. They go to a school and are
sent to the department. From the department, they're sent back to schools.
As Ziyanda explained, schools should serve as the
middle ground, approaching the department as an institution rather than leaving
parents to navigate the bureaucracy alone. "The most degrading thing we
are now witnessing is that the schools don't even open their gates as if these
parents even pose a danger to these principals," she noted.
The
Absence of Written Communication
Another critical issue is the lack of written feedback.
Parents are told orally that schools are full, but the law requires written
reasons. Schools avoid providing written documentation because they understand
they cannot legally use capacity or administrative errors as excuses to
infringe on this basic right. This leaves parents without evidence to challenge
unfair denials.
The
Overlooked 4%: Who Gets Left Behind?
While 96% placement might sound successful, it leaves
thousands of children unaccounted for. The families bearing the brunt are
typically the most vulnerable:
• Children from poorer communities and informal
settlements
• Parents without access to online systems
• Grade 8 learners (high school placements)
• Students migrating from other provinces
• Non-South African nationals
Wesley pointed out that migration patterns aren't
accounted for in planning: "Every year, there's a migration of students
coming from other provinces into the Western Cape. Now, all of a sudden, we
have to make place for students that were not part of that planning."
The
Consequences: When Children Stay Out of School
The impact of delayed placements extends far beyond
missed lessons. Wesley described the cascading effects:
"If the child is not in school, the child will
most probably be recruited into a gang, and we don't want that," he
stated, noting that in gang-affected areas and gang hotspot schools, parents
worry about both their child's education and safety.
When a child enters school four months late, they're
already at a significant disadvantage. They've missed foundational material,
and the pressure to catch up takes a toll on mental wellbeing. Educators,
already stretched thin, struggle to provide the extra support these students
need, often leading to behavioural issues and eventual dropout.
Legal
Action: When to Take It Further
When emails go unanswered and applications stall, Ziyanda
advises parents to consider legal action. "They should actually apply at
the high court on the grounds of discrimination," she stated.
Parents should document everything: application dates,
reference numbers, email communications, and any counselling reports showing
the psychological impact on their child. This evidence strengthens applications
based on contraventions of Section 29 (right to education) and Section 9 (the
Equality Clause).
"Once we communicate with the department to say
that we are preparing an application that we're going to send to the high
court, then the department seemingly always has a miracle. And there's always a
desk and a chair available for the child," Ziyanda noted.
Community
Solutions: Bridging the Gap
While waiting for systemic change, community-based
organizations are stepping up to provide interim solutions. The Centre of
Excellence, for example, houses students in the meantime, creating a
school-like environment where children can come daily.
"We provide a space for them, and some of our
volunteers will just assist them and get them and keep them in line, in tune,
on beat. So when they go back to school, there's no hiccups or hurdles,"
Westley explained.
These organizations have also built working
relationships with local education departments, helping to facilitate
placements and safeguard both parents and children from potential legal
consequences of keeping children out of school.
Systemic
Issues That Need Addressing
The placement crisis reflects deeper structural
problems:
1. Infrastructure Gaps: Areas like Bishop Lavis have
14-15 primary schools but only two high schools, creating a problem at the
grade 8 level.
2. Flawed Application Systems: The online system is
difficult to navigate, with poor communication channels and inadequate feedback
mechanisms.
3. Overcrowded Classrooms: Some educators are teaching
56 students in a single class, indicating severe oversubscription in certain
schools.
4. Lack of Planning: Migration patterns and population
growth aren't adequately factored into capacity planning.
5. Poor Administration: Contravention of the Promotion
of Administrative Justice Act (PAJA), with schools and departments failing to
provide written reasons for decisions.
What
Parents Can Do Right Now
If your child hasn't been placed in school, here are
concrete steps you can take:
Be Persistent: Don't accept silence. If emails go
unanswered, escalate to higher authorities in the department structure.
Document Everything: Keep records of all applications,
emails, reference numbers, and dates. Written evidence is crucial for legal
challenges.
Request Written Reasons: Don't accept oral
explanations. Demand written documentation of why your child cannot be placed.
Seek Help from Advice Offices: Organizations like Eerste
River Advice Office and Centre of Excellence have established relationships
with education departments and can facilitate placements.
Know Your Metro: Identify which education metro (Metro
North, Metro South, etc.) is responsible for your area and engage directly with
them.
Consider Legal Action: If administrative channels
fail, don't hesitate to pursue legal remedies through the high court on grounds
of constitutional violations.
Document Psychological Impact: If your child is
showing signs of distress, get professional counselling and keep the reports
for legal substantiation.
A
Call for Accountability and Change
The school placement crisis in the Western Cape is not
just a statistical problem, it's a violation of children's constitutional
rights with real, lasting consequences. As Ziyanda stated, "This is a
pandemic. This is a disaster that needs to be held because people's
constitutional rights are actually infringed."
The solution requires proper planning, adequate
budgeting, consequence management, and accountability. There are qualified
teachers waiting for employment. Infrastructure can be expanded. Communication
systems can be improved. What's missing is the political will to prioritize
this fundamental right.
Until systemic change happens, parents must know their
rights and be prepared to fight for them. Community organizations must continue
bridging the gap. And advocates must keep pushing back legally and publicly.
Because every child deserves a desk, a chair, and
access to the education that is their constitutional birth right.
Get
Help
If you need assistance with school placement issues,
contact:
Eerste River Advice Office: Contact Abeada Van Neel (vanneelabeada484@gmail.com)
Madi van Schalkwyk is the founder of A StrangerKind (ASK) and director of A Kind Agency. She shared how the idea for A StrangerKind emerged from recognizing how little people truly know about one another — and how difficult it can be to approach a stranger and start a meaningful conversation.
The Concept Behind A StrangerKind
At A StrangerKind events, Madi and her team provide curated lists of topics that participants can choose from to help spark conversation. The intention is to create a structured yet open space where strangers can connect more easily and authentically.
Through these interactions, Madi discovered that engaging deeply with strangers strengthened her ability to ask more thoughtful questions of the people closest to her — including friends and family. She highlights how familiarity often leads to assumptions, rather than curiosity. By asking about a parent's childhood, their first pet, or the experiences that shaped their views, conversations can become more meaningful and layered. Showing up fully in dialogue with strangers, she explains, has transformed how she approaches conversations in her own life.
Impact in Educational Spaces
A StrangerKind has also been brought to universities, where the impact on students has been significant. Students gain new perspectives on their professors, seeing them as multidimensional individuals rather than solely authority figures. This shift often changes the overall educational experience.
Madi emphasizes that people are inherently willing to share their stories and lived experiences when given the opportunity, and that these exchanges foster genuine human connection.
Addressing Skepticism
For those skeptical about the impact of structured conversations with strangers, Madi encourages attending an event firsthand. She recounts moments where individuals who appeared to have little in common discovered unexpected shared ground — perhaps a favorite childhood meal or a beloved song — and soon found themselves connecting with ease. A 45-minute conversation, she notes, can influence someone's perspective, interests, communication style, or even how they manage stress. The ripple effects can be profound.
Across hundreds of events, one question has stood out as particularly powerful: "What question do you wish someone would ask you?" This simple inquiry often unlocks deeply personal reflections and provides rare insight into another person's inner world.
Broad Reach
Madi's work spans grassroots organizations and global institutions such as Google and the International Monetary Fund. Whether in community spaces or corporate boardrooms, she observes that the need for meaningful human connection remains the same.
In a time marked by polarization and isolation, her work continues to create spaces for empathy, understanding, and authentic dialogue.
To learn more about A StrangerKind, contact Madi at +27 82 926 1012 or visit
Jerome Mzuri, founder and director of Southern Africa Youth
Vision, or SAYOVI. SAYOVI is a registered non-profit organization dedicated to
uplifting at-risk and underprivileged people, with a focus on youth who use
drugs—both on and off the streets—as well as vulnerable migrants and those
experiencing homelessness. Jerome founded SAYOVI in 2011 and has been leading
its mission to implement programs that improve the quality of life for these
communities ever since. Jerome shared that every Friday, SAYOVI staff members
go into local communities to interact directly with at-risk youth, offering
meals and taking time to connect on a personal level.
These moments of
interaction, he explained, are about more than just providing food—they are
about building trust, showing care, and creating a sense of belonging. He says
his biggest takeaway is the importance of spreading love, and of sharing joy
and warmth with those around him. He also reflects that many people become
entangled in drugs and addiction not out of choice, but because they lack a
meaningful sense of community in their lives. SAYOVI aims to fill that gap by
reminding people they are seen and valued. The work Jerome is doing is
admirable as he is doing it to connect with often-overlooked communities.
If you’d like to learn more about SAYOVI work or find ways
to get involved, you can reach them at (0)76 920 6481 or at
sayovi2711@gmail.com.
