Seventy, maybe eighty people pack the room: gogos with watery eyes and wide smiles; young men with low-slung jeans, unlaced takkies, and edgy youthful energy; a council of mkhulus sits silently to the side, one resting his chin on his cane, another nodding, eyes shut. Young mothers arrive with babies on their backs. Some look expectant, others resigned, defeated by the weight of poverty.
Seven Fountains is a small community of a few hundred people just off the N2 highway between Gqeberha and Makhanda in the Eastern Cape. Like thousands of rural communities across South Africa, it faces high unemployment and all the social challenges that follow. Yet it is organised, with a clinic and police station, both often serving patrons of the local tavern. Homes are neat and dignified and an air of pride drifts through the open windows of the community hall.
At the invitation of Lalibela Wildlife Reserve a few kilometres back along the N2, my colleague and I have come to facilitate a one-day community-building workshop. Many of the reserve’s staff come from Seven Fountains and they’ve established a foundation that invests in the community.
But unlike many South African businesses, this reserve works differently. They are not only meeting immediate needs but aiming for a systemic shift, one that has lasting impact. Too many Corporate Social Investment (CSI) initiatives, though well-meant, end up as short-term Band-Aids or compliance exercises.
Our country remains structurally separated, much like Seven Fountains and the nearby reserve. Highways, dust roads, rivers, and bridges mark invisible lines dividing the rich and the poor. Verdant farms are separated from dusty settlements by a bridge over a shared river. The lavish reception of a fancy hotel can be a barely respectable nine iron from an informal community. These juxtapositions are everyday realities in South Africa, sometimes we notice; often, we drive past.
When I stand up to facilitate a session in a place like this, I’m always struck by the absence of bitterness. There may be youthful frustration or militance, but seldom resentment. I often wonder if a little righteous anger might spark the urgency this country needs. But that’s not today’s task. The invitation for today’s gathering simply asked people to come and give birth to a new vision for Seven Fountains.
The methodology is simple but unfailing, not because we are clever, but because people are. We create a safe, open space and listen without judgment to what excites them, what they dream of, what they love about their home, and what disappoints them. We listen to stories about their kids and schools, their elders, their clinic and their tavern. Crime, transport, unemployment, lack of green spaces, all of it comes out, often accompanied by that unique South African brand of ironic laughter that makes even the worst situations bearable.
We don’t bring solutions. As many Corporate Social Investment managers will attest, that has never worked long-term and honestly never will. No one understands a community better than its people. Our job is to hold up the mirror; to listen, capture ideas, and support a process that will slowly change the future of Seven Fountains.
After three hours, the walls are covered in colourful A1 drawings of Seven Fountains as they dream it to be. The atmosphere has moved from quiet suspicion to the high volume that usually denotes the birth of possibility and agency.
Their visions are humble yet profound: a clean environment, safe spaces for children, music and sport, support for local businesses. Then comes the question that changes everything: “What if we are the heroes Seven Fountains has been waiting for?”
With that question, committees form around gifts and talents: gardeners, musicians, cooks and bakers, a cleaning committee, a homework committee, a small-business committee, a sports committee, a group to work on a local park.
The role of the reserve’s community Trust is now clear. They are not only there to feed and provide school shoes. They are there to support a long-term systemic shift. Their job is to convene these groups regularly and host new conversations, supporting with funds only where possibility has converted to practice.
Will this solve all the issues in Seven Fountains? No. Will it be quick and easy? Certainly not.
But in the long run this community will thrive because where people are seen, heard and appreciated, where they create the future they want, ownership replaces dependence and abundance replaces scarcity.
Since the dawn of democracy, we have adopted a largely top-down, hand-out approach to Corporate Social Investment and community development. This hasn’t worked. If we are to see genuine progress in communities across our country, we must stop telling people what will be good for them and start asking what they dream of, and what they have in their hands to bring that vision to life.
Then we must work together in partnership and be unfailing in our support, until our stark divisions become a thing of the past.
Justin Foxton is a people and community development practitioner and founder of NGO The Peace Agency.
