Sabalele village, in Cofimvaba, a town in South Africa’s Eastern Cape, boasts a brand new tar road off the N6 between Queenstown and East London. On the side lies an unoccupied house on a hill with peeling cream paint. The small brick house has a yard half the size of a football field; a huge family gravestone stands next to the wire fence. A pita toilet is on the one side and a disused kraal on the other; the sun-dried grass reaches your knees.
<div id="attachment_31412" style="width: 695px" class="wp-caption alignnone"><img loading="lazy" decoding="async" aria-describedby="caption-attachment-31412" class="wp-image-31412 size-large" src="http://www.forbesafrica.com/app/uploads/2017/06/Chris-Hani-008-685x1024.jpg" alt="" width="685" height="1024" srcset="https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/06/Chris-Hani-008.jpg 685w, https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/06/Chris-Hani-008-300x448.jpg 300w, https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/06/Chris-Hani-008-600x897.jpg 600w, https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/06/Chris-Hani-008-201x300.jpg 201w" sizes="(max-width: 685px) 100vw, 685px" />Statue of Chris Hani outside the community centre</div>
Inside, the only remnants that show people once lived here are a coffee table draped in white cloth, old broken red sofas, and two photographs hanging on opposite walls of the dining room. One is of martyr Chris Hani and the other of his parents Gilbert and Nomayise. It’s an understated memorial for one of the best known names in African politics. Often, it doesn’t see a soul for six months at a time.
<div id="attachment_31363" style="width: 695px" class="wp-caption aligncenter"><img loading="lazy" decoding="async" aria-describedby="caption-attachment-31363" class="wp-image-31363 size-large" src="http://www.forbesafrica.com/app/uploads/2017/05/Chris-Hani-003-685x1024.jpg" alt="" width="685" height="1024" srcset="https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/Chris-Hani-003.jpg 685w, https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/Chris-Hani-003-300x448.jpg 300w, https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/Chris-Hani-003-600x897.jpg 600w, https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/Chris-Hani-003-201x300.jpg 201w, https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/Chris-Hani-003-768x1148.jpg 768w" sizes="(max-width: 685px) 100vw, 685px" />Lungile Gongqa</div>
This was the home Hani and his five siblings grew up in. His father died in 1994 and mother in 2000; both were buried by the wire fence and eventually the entire family moved out.
On this cold Saturday morning in April, the month Hani was gunned down 24 years ago on the driveway of his house in Boksburg, Johannesburg, hundreds of people gathered in Sabalele village to commemorate him; not with a rally or church service but with sweat and striving in the annual Chris Hani Freedom Marathon.
This five-year-old race, a community hall with a bronze statue, and a district municipality named after him are a few things the municipality has to keep Hani’s name from oblivion. The old and young, who never got a chance to know Hani, came to walk and run the path to his Catholic school.
“You must be very strong to run this one, this is a tough course, it’s gravel. Can you imagine a young Chris Hani walking here every day of his schooling,” says Enoch Skosana, the race official and marathon winner.
Skosana says the run is symbolic of how Hani carried his country on his shoulders in later life. With the African National Congress’ (ANC) armed wing, uMkhonto we Sizwe, Hani commanded thousands of soldiers with the same zest, he says. The retired Skosana won several half marathons before forming a development club supported by his former team, Nedbank Running Club, in Gauteng.
“To me, as a councillor and politician, this event is a milestone. Chris Hani himself never entered the Canaan he fought before he died in the hands of apartheid defenders. Chris Hani District Municipality is proud of the whole commemoration of its son. In my view I would like to have a running club established here, so that we can have more long distance runners who are putting this district on the map,” says Wanda Vani, a ward councillor for 23 villages around Sabalele.
Vani says despite a small development in the Sabalele, many villages do not have tar, nor running water. He also laments high unemployment of youth – the race only provides jobs for a few.
The 25-kilometer marathon honoring Hani may be among the smallest on the calendar of Athletics South Africa (ASA) but it has been growing in stature and created at least one Olympic athlete. Lungile Gongqa was the 2017 Two Oceans Marathon winner in Cape Town. He came through the ranks of this dusty village, near where he grew up in Ngcobo. When it started in 2012, Gongqa was the first winner. He went on to represent his country at the 2016 Rio Olympics but didn’t finish because of a hamstring injury.
<div id="attachment_31364" style="width: 778px" class="wp-caption alignnone"><img loading="lazy" decoding="async" aria-describedby="caption-attachment-31364" class="wp-image-31364 size-full" src="http://www.forbesafrica.com/app/uploads/2017/05/Chris-Hani-010.jpg" alt="" width="768" height="514" srcset="https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/Chris-Hani-010.jpg 768w, https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/Chris-Hani-010-300x201.jpg 300w, https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/Chris-Hani-010-600x402.jpg 600w" sizes="(max-width: 768px) 100vw, 768px" />Athletes before the 25 kilometer race</div>
“In my first running competition I was excited to take home a t-shirt and a roll-on as my prize. I was only 18 years old at the time. I knew my parents would be grateful for that. But things got better when I won this Chris Hani race in 2012, the prize was R7,500 (around $550). I was not a member of any club, so that meant I had to train by myself and pay my own transport. This is one of the reasons I have approached the municipality with the idea to coach the up-and-coming runners in the district. I didn’t finish school but I can make a living from the sport,” says Gongqa.
Gongqa, who runs for Nedbank Running Club in Cape Town and travels between there and the Eastern Cape, won R250,000 ($18,500) at the Two Oceans Marathon.  Gongqa, who flew from Cape Town to support the race in Sabalele village, believes there are many more Olympians to unearth here.
Inspiration could be taken from Lusapho April, a long distance runner from Uitenhage, Eastern Cape, who was a new entrant in the Hani race. He represented his country at the 2012 London Olympics and 2016 Rio Olympics, and finished third in the New York City Marathon in 2013. April holds the record of winning the Hannover Marathon, in Germany, for three consecutive years between 2011 and 2013.
<div id="attachment_31367" style="width: 860px" class="wp-caption alignnone"><img loading="lazy" decoding="async" aria-describedby="caption-attachment-31367" class="wp-image-31367 size-full" src="http://www.forbesafrica.com/app/uploads/2017/05/Chris-Hani-111.jpg" alt="" width="850" height="569" srcset="https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/Chris-Hani-111.jpg 850w, https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/Chris-Hani-111-300x201.jpg 300w, https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/Chris-Hani-111-600x402.jpg 600w, https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/Chris-Hani-111-768x514.jpg 768w" sizes="(max-width: 850px) 100vw, 850px" />Small brick house,Sabalele village, in Cofimvaba</div>
“Being here is just to honor the man for what he did for the country. And also I never run in these conditions in the village, I just wanted to partake to encourage the future athletes from around here. It’s not every day you see someone who has been to the Olympic Games coming back to run here. I was humbled to see some local boys running with torn shoes and soccer boots, they showed me that there’s so much hunger to achieve their dreams,” he says after finishing the race in second spot and with a limp.
Both April and Gongqa were chuffed to see hundreds of school children running alongside their parents. Just like young Gongqa, the unlikely young competitors were ecstatic to walk home with their new oversized white-shirts and medals, even if there was no roll-on.
Hani would have been proud.

SACP-CHRIS HANI

Running For A Hero

He appears to be soft-hearted behind his infectious smile, but this is a steely franchise mogul who has survived being stripped of all his assets.
On a gloomy day, as gloomy as his worst day, we arrive in Mamelodi, Pretoria, South Africa’s capital, to meet Itumeleng Mpatlanyana.
At the corner of Shabangu and Maake Street in Mamelodi West, is a shisa nyama (township braai restaurant) made with a shipping container painted shocking red. This is Nkukhu-Box, one of his many businesses.
The atmosphere is vibrant. There is deafening house music playing at the restaurant – we had to ask people to turn it down. The street buzzes with taxis and hooting cars.
Finally, 40 minutes late, a white BMW sports car pulls up. It looks out of place, as well as tardy.
A short and soft-spoken gentleman, in a white shirt, emerges. Mpatlanyana, the food man, is ready to speak about his worst day.
For someone seen as successful, it comes as a surprise that seven years ago Mpatlanyana found himself sitting on the floor of his near empty house. The only thing he was able to save from the repossessors was a painting on the wall.
“There was one painting that I bought when I was a student. I actually begged the guys not to take it and I still have it today,” he says.
“It is a happy colorful painting. When you look at that painting in the mornings, it gives new life and meaning. So that is why I begged the guys not to take it. They took everything, but that painting was the only survivor that day.”
This was how bankruptcy felt.
It all began when he was 14 years old, growing up in the township of Embalenhle, in Mpumalanga. He had started a lawn-mowing business in his neighborhood at weekends. His motivation was money for a nice packed lunch.
“Having a tastier lunch meant that I could hang out and trade my lunch with more privileged pupils who were perceived as being cool at school.”
<div id="attachment_31360" style="width: 1034px" class="wp-caption aligncenter"><img loading="lazy" decoding="async" aria-describedby="caption-attachment-31360" class="wp-image-31360 size-large" src="http://www.forbesafrica.com/app/uploads/2017/05/Itumeleng-MWD-001-1024x686.jpg" alt="" width="1024" height="686" srcset="https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/Itumeleng-MWD-001.jpg 1024w, https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/Itumeleng-MWD-001-300x201.jpg 300w, https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/Itumeleng-MWD-001-600x402.jpg 600w, https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/Itumeleng-MWD-001-768x515.jpg 768w" sizes="(max-width: 1024px) 100vw, 1024px" />From rock bottom to rolling in cash</div>
While his fancy lunchbox brought him a sense of belonging, his business brought a sense of wealth. He branched out into the food business selling cheese, polony and bacon throughout high school.
With a taste for business, Mpatlanyana then studied a BCom in entrepreneurship at the University of Pretoria.
As a student he sold beanbag furniture to students. He also bought his first car – a 1979 VW Beetle – that he used to transport students.
“The business was successful. At one point I had 20 apartments under my portfolio, but none were owned by me,” he says.
The money rolled in and the friends came with ideas.
In 2008, he and his friend bought Fashion TV Café, a French television channel franchise. He thought it was gold for the grandchildren.
“When we became Fashion TV Café’s first young black franchisees in the world, we were in our twenties and it was a hell of an achievement,” says Mpatlanyana.
It all seemed plain sailing; but the exorbitant rent and overhead costs were to make a meal of them. Mpatlanyana lost his R3.3 million ($252,000) investment. The thought of losing everything was always his biggest fear.
Soon he was to experience his worst nightmare.
“That day I thought, colorful s*** just hit the fan, and it is looking beautiful. I was accepting defeat, because I knew it was coming and I knew I could do it again.”
First, the repossessors came.
“Those guys park their truck and they knock at your door, thereafter they just walk in and they just start taking stuff without negotiating, because it’s a done deal, the courts have given them the order,” says Mpatlanyana.
“I actually helped them to move the furniture, because I tried to make the experience as comfortable as I could. I was not fighting them, I wasn’t crying. I was like, ‘It went bad sharp-sharp, moja (fine), take it.’”
Reality kicked in when he was alone and bereft.
“The tears came later, after they left, when I was sitting on the floor.”
“The remote control is gone, the TV is gone and the ironing board is gone. I was just sitting there asking myself, what was I going to do next? But I knew then, that I could do it again bigger and better,” recalls Mpatlanyana.
“That was the lowest moment of my life. I would sit on the floor with no furniture or anything, wondering where did it all go wrong? At one point you were rolling in cash and all of a sudden, you have hit rock bottom,” he says.
The fear of people was stronger than the fear of loss.
“It’s was not even about the money, it was about the people that knew me and how they would look at me. A few weeks ago, you had this upmarket restaurant and the ladies love you, then all of a sudden, you have zero.”
“How do you even get your friends to come visit you again, if you have no furniture in the house? Your bank accounts are all cleaned up,” says Mpatlanyana
A phone call changed his fortunes four months later.
“I don’t know whether to call it luck or whether it was just my work ethic that came through for me because a customer who happened to be a coalmine owner who was looking for a BEE partner decided to call me. Instantly, I became part of a small mine operation,” Mpatlanyana says with relief in his voice.
<div id="attachment_31398" style="width: 696px" class="wp-caption alignnone"><img loading="lazy" decoding="async" aria-describedby="caption-attachment-31398" class="wp-image-31398 size-large" src="http://www.forbesafrica.com/app/uploads/2017/06/Itumeleng-MWD-048-686x1024.jpg" alt="" width="686" height="1024" srcset="https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/06/Itumeleng-MWD-048.jpg 686w, https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/06/Itumeleng-MWD-048-300x448.jpg 300w, https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/06/Itumeleng-MWD-048-600x896.jpg 600w, https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/06/Itumeleng-MWD-048-201x300.jpg 201w, https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/06/Itumeleng-MWD-048-768x1147.jpg 768w" sizes="(max-width: 686px) 100vw, 686px" />&#8221;A few weeks ago, you had this upmarket restaurant and the ladies were loving you, then all of a sudden, you have zero.&#8221;</div>
“He could have called any other black man, but he called me, because he saw my work ethic and the amount of hard work I had put into FTV Café.”
His journey with the mining company was not long. Four years later, the coalmine was sold. He went back into the food business; his first love.
But this time, he was to do things differently. He would become the franchiser instead of the franchisee.
Spykos Foods was born in 2011, with R1 million ($76,000).
He founded a franchise that was about taking traditional township shisa nyama, fish and chips and bunny chow, into major malls and shopping centers in South Africa.
“You have to have a strong character to try again. I didn’t allow that to discourage me. I got up and I tried again.”
“I still went back into the food industry, the experience and what I learned out of the situation helped me to come up with the next brand. I decided to start my own brand, where I make my own rules and I don’t have to be dictated to by any franchise or international person that is in Paris,” says Mpatlanyana.
Forty Spykos Foods franchises were established around the country, but some collapsed.
“The stores started to close down due to several factors, but the main [reasons] were the escalating shopping center rentals, increase in food prices, especially fresh potatoes as this was our main product line.”
“There were also major competitors dominating the market… Some not so well-skilled franchisees and the lack of adequate infrastructure,” says Mpatlanyana.
Even with the punches that he took, he is adamant he’ll become a franchise mogul.
He launched his first Nkukhu-Box, selling chicken, in August 2016. It is a business that mitigates the rent and overheads of Spykos Foods with a red shipping container that doesn’t cost much.
To date, he has three stores in South Africa and plans to expand to Zambia, Namibia, Lesotho and Swaziland this year.
Mpatlanyana claims that his business is worth R6.5 million ($497,000).
“Being a young black entrepreneur has immense challenges in the private sector. I realized that in business you need to find a business model that doesn’t rely on too many external sources,” he says.
Seven years on from an empty house and empty bank account, his worst day, in many ways, made him.

Itumeleng-MWD-056

From Rock Bottom To Rolling In cash

Fate thought it had struck a crippling blow to the Ndlovu family enterprise, Fikile Construction, when its visionary, Amos Ndlovu, passed away in 2007. He had powered the company to multimillion-dollar success in the South African building and civil engineering construction industry in just over 15 years.
But with his 26-year-old daughter taking over the helm as executive director, the company’s turnover more than doubled in three years. Hlamalani Ndlovu has propelled 100% black-owned Fikile Construction to phenomenal success, with a turnover of R153 million ($19 million) in 2010/11.
Ndlovu, now 30 years old, is vivacious and eloquent, yet also perceptive and focused. “It has not been easy. I was constantly overwhelmed for three years,” she says.
“The benefit of being naïve about leadership is that you think everything is easy and you don’t know how hard ‘hard’ can be until it confronts you. But it was important for me to succeed. I had to do it for my father’s good name, the level of respect he enjoyed in the industry, for my mother and three siblings, and the staff members of Fikile Construction. I give credit also to the management team of the company,” she adds.
A lesson she appreciates is that construction is not a get-rich-quick scheme. “If you want to do it, you have to do it properly, otherwise you could lose a lot of money,” Ndlovu explains.
To joint credit with her father, Fikile Construction has successfully executed, either independently or in partnerships, formidable projects such as the building and construction of phase two of the head office of international cellular giant MTN; the Cradle of Humankind; O.R. Tambo International Airport; the national head office of the South African Department of Education and Training and renovations to the Johannesburg Central Library.
The company is divided into five sections: building construction, civil construction, property development, housing and public-private partnerships (PPPs).
A healthy order book shielded Fikile Construction from the effects of the economic meltdown in 2008. In that year, they began building 3,000 RDP houses (basic quality subsidy housing) in the North West province of South Africa. They also started construction on the national head offices of the Department of Education and Training.
However, most companies were exercising caution in the two years following the economic downturn by deferring spending, which resulted in some retrenchments at Fikile Construction in 2011. The company had to let go of 13 of their 50 full-time employees.
Ndlovu is optimistic about the current financial year, saying: “We have increased our network. Our order book also looks good. It currently stands at R70 million ($8.7 million). We are hoping to push to R300 million ($37.4 million) by the end of the year.”
Another reason for her optimism is that she recently appointed four directors onto her team of seven executives. All of the new appointees have experience working for listed construction companies.
“Our strategy moving forward is to focus on resources, to ensure that we target clients who know how we are spending, and to get involved in more PPPs to ensure we are not dependent mainly on tenders,” she says.
Ndlovu believes Fikile Construction should get a stake in the South African government’s infrastructural development plan.
“Fikile Construction has an established track record as a company that delivers. We are also in line, in terms of government targets. The company is headed by a woman and we employ 80% young people. We are not threatened by big construction companies. No one company can do everything in this industry. There has to be a role and space provided to black companies. The challenge is to be at the right place at the right time. At Fikile Construction, we rely on our good name, the excellent quality of the product we deliver, our cost effectiveness and the good relationships we have established in the industry.”
Ndlovu received her commerce degree at the University of Pretoria, majoring in entrepreneurship.
“I have always known I would be in business. An experience in grade 10, selling snacks at break for a class project, had a lasting impression on me. I never went home with stock.
“A truck manufacturing company was interested in an idea I presented for an assignment I did during my second year at university. I did not follow it up then, due to a lack of confidence and childish playfulness. I was adamant, though, that I wouldn’t go into my father’s business.
“But when I finished my degree, I still wasn’t ready to roll out the business plan I had proposed to the truck company. I decided to give the family business a go.”
Ndlovu is the second of four siblings. She insists she was not forced into the decision to join Fikile Construction and knew she could walk away from it if she wanted.
“My father’s words when I told him about my decision to join him were: ‘I am happy to have you work for me, but please understand, I have always done this on my own. I don’t need you.” she says.
“On my first day at work, he plainly told me he was very busy and wouldn’t have time to hold my hand. I knew then that I was officially in the deep end,” she says.
Determined she would not suffer the “boss’s daughter syndrome”, Ndlovu decided to investigate Fikile Construction’s options in property development.
“I had a lot to prove in a field I knew nothing about. A lot of the projects did not come off the ground. There were hits and misses. But I was determined to keep at it until it worked out,” she says
With time, she has become more involved in PPPs, acting as director on some of the boards.
Her record proves she has earned her position. Hlamalani Ndlovu is making her mark in the South African economy and beyond.

Tag: June 2017

FORBES AFRICA SOCIAL MEDIA

Running For A Hero

From Rock Bottom To Rolling In cash

All In The Family