We started from the bottom; now we’re here,” says Johanna Mukoki, quoting popular artist Drake. She has hobnobbed with the musician on a visit to the United States, but his lyrics hit closer to home.
Mukoki, who owns Travel With Flair, a top South African tourism company, vividly remembers her years of struggle as a young girl running a rickety Soweto stall with nothing but hope and dreams for a better future.
Baragwanath is South Africa’s biggest public hospital and has its place etched in history as the apartheid era’s ‘black hospital’. Bara sprawls lazily across Soweto and is connected to Soweto’s taxi rank by the ‘Bara Bridge’. Almost 40 years ago, in the sea of human traffic from the taxi rank to the hospital, Mukoki stood, just legs and bones, with a smile, beckoning passersby to try a boiled egg, an apple or any of the edible fare on offer in her little stall.
Seated face-to-face with Mukoki now, it is difficult to imagine her that way on Bara Bridge. Today, she laughs at the incredulity of it.
“When I drive past Bara in my Porsche, I’m reminded of my blessings. That’s where I come from.”
She has an irrepressible get-up-and-go attitude about her. As she talks, her hands animate her words.
<img loading="lazy" decoding="async" class="size-medium wp-image-29704 alignleft" src="http://www.forbesafrica.com/app/uploads/2017/05/IMG_5019-290x300.jpg" alt="" width="290" height="300" srcset="https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/IMG_5019-290x300.jpg 290w, https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/IMG_5019-300x310.jpg 300w, https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/IMG_5019-600x620.jpg 600w, https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/IMG_5019.jpg 768w" sizes="auto, (max-width: 290px) 100vw, 290px" />
We talk about her childhood, and her moeder (Afrikaans for mother) and father come to life. Their influence in the cultivation of her entrepreneurial flair dominates her story-telling.
Her mother was a teacher who she thinks was “probably a business tycoon in her previous life”. Outside of classroom hours, she ensured Mukoki manned the stall at Bara Bridge but it didn’t end there. At the end of each month, with swathes of brightly-colored, newly-sewn curtains, folded with meticulous precision, Mukoki would have to expertly balance the curtains on her head and accompany her mother to Qwa-Qwa to sell the designs.
Her father, on the other hand, made sure she focused on maintaining her straight As in school. Books connected father and daughter.
“Papa made sure that I read white people’s books even in poor and dusty Soweto. We knew that education was the only way out of this poverty thing.”
Her laughter fills the room as she recounts her obsession with saving every cent of her pay on the family business but went about it the wrong way.
“I used to hide my coins under the vinyl tiles in the kitchen. Problem with that was that as people walked over my secret vault, the shape of the coins would become increasingly pronounced…and my balance would somehow start falling.” The qualified accountant knows better now.
From coins under vinyl tiles to holding her own amongst billionaires, kings and queens, to rock stars, Mukoki has certainly arrived. She counts amongst her friends and mentors the late Nelson Mandela, Bono, Sol Kerzner, Bill Clinton, Stephen Kosseff…the list is endless.
The journey from the bottom to now wasn’t a joy ride by any means.
It’s fragile ground as we broach her
biggest setback.
It happened in 2006, when the phone rang just as she stepped into her office. It was a frantic call from Moeder.
“Jo, you have to get me out of here or else I’m not going to make it,” she said. Her mother was in Cape Town and had gone in for a routine health checkup, albeit in the care of doctors she wasn’t familiar with. And she was reacting negatively to the medication prescribed to her. Mukoki and her siblings worked round the clock to get their mother checked out and readmitted to another hospital.
“Bureaucracy failed us. We had to fight for hours before she was released.” It was too late. Within hours, Moeder was gone.
“I felt like I’d been kicked in the gut,” says Mukoki. She had to learn to survive without Moeder, there was no other way to deal with it.
“I wanted to fight. I want to sue everyone involved. It took my family to help me accept the victory in walking away.” It has been a long journey for Mukoki since.
Today, she has been leading the tourism company she co-founded, Travel With Flair, in Johannesburg, for more than 18 years. Their wings have spread, pushing past South Africa’s borders and venturing into Africa. Her team has grown relentlessly. She now has 650 employees; 80% are women. Mukoki has won several trophies and awards along the way. She has also recently joined a global alliance which gives her company greater exposure.
“We started from the bottom;
now we’re here!” she says, quoting
Drake again.

IMG_0744

From Bara Bridge To The Boardroom

The house on the hill. That’s what Winnie Madikizela-Mandela’s Soweto home in Johannesburg is, not far from 8115 Vilakazi Street where she and Nelson Rolihlahla Mandela started their married life together.
That home is now a museum, a vestige of their anti-apartheid days, and a mandatory tick mark for tourists. Winnie moved to her present home on the hill after Mandela’s release in 1990.
It’s a red-brick structure with imposing walls and brawny security guards at the gate.
Inside the home, in three levels, we pass a living room choc-a-block with Mandela photos, portraits and paintings. They are everywhere, on the walls, tables, floors, and are probably gifts, from diplomats and presidents. There’s more. Entire showcases filled with chinaware, crystals and collectibles. Rugs cover every conceivable floor and tables groan under the weight of glossy books and glass vases. There is Indian art too: a large Nataraja statue welcomes visitors at the door.
<img loading="lazy" decoding="async" class="size-medium wp-image-29695 alignleft" src="http://www.forbesafrica.com/app/uploads/2017/05/sb10063389dd-001-198x300.jpg" alt="" width="198" height="300" srcset="https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/sb10063389dd-001-198x300.jpg 198w, https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/sb10063389dd-001-300x455.jpg 300w, https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/sb10063389dd-001-600x911.jpg 600w, https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/sb10063389dd-001-768x1165.jpg 768w, https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/sb10063389dd-001-675x1024.jpg 675w, https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/sb10063389dd-001.jpg 674w" sizes="auto, (max-width: 198px) 100vw, 198px" />
We step into “the Angola room”. Zindzi appears in a black skirt and polka-dot top, her hair coiffured. She says this room is filled with gifts to Mandela from the Angolan president following his release from prison. More rugs here too. The highlight of this room is a wooden dining table with – now rickety – red velvet chairs.
“It’s like a museum,” Winnie says when we meet her later.
The room overlooks an expansive garden, with a fountain and benches. Zindzi says every plant and tree here has been planted by ‘Mama’.
“She is so creative, she spends time in the garden every day.”
These days, Winnie is recovering from a surgical procedure. We wait a while before she materialises on the staircase, in a traditional Xhosa dress and African beaded jewelry. This is the ceremonial mourning attire stipulated by custom and the family’s elders, worn for a year in honor of Mandela’s passing.
Winnie is still quite a head-turner at 78, and has a graceful gait.
This is a woman who has led an extraordinary life, a courageous and controversial life, as a revolutionary in South Africa’s liberation movement leading up to Mandela’s release from prison after 27 years and the country’s freedom in 1994. She continues to be popular among her supporters as ‘Mother of the Nation’, and has been the subject of books, films and two operas.
Winnie smiles genially, her eyes look tired, but she is ready to roll.
She is emotional when she starts speaking about the late South African president.
His final moments, when he breathed his last, keep coming back to her.
“It has been a very difficult year. There will never be a sense of closure,” she begins.
“There will never be another funeral like that. That was heavy. I wouldn’t like to see anything like that again, the image of my children walking past their father’s body with millions of other people. Death is such a personal thing, so private, they were not allowed to even have him in his death. They had to in fact share him more with the rest of the world&#8230;I cannot wipe out the image of Zindzi and Zenani walking past that coffin at the Union Buildings. It is something I wake up and see in the dead of night on those days when it is difficult to live with the past.”
She sighs loudly.
Winnie’s eyes well up as she speaks, slowly, recounting those final moments by Mandela’s side. Her daughters were in London at the time attending the royal premiere of Anant Singh’s Mandela biopic, Long Walk To Freedom. It was during the film’s screening that news about his death came.
<img loading="lazy" decoding="async" class="size-medium wp-image-29699 alignleft" src="http://www.forbesafrica.com/app/uploads/2017/05/IMG_1785-200x300.jpg" alt="" width="200" height="300" srcset="https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/IMG_1785-200x300.jpg 200w, https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/IMG_1785-300x450.jpg 300w, https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/IMG_1785-600x900.jpg 600w, https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/IMG_1785-683x1024.jpg 683w, https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/IMG_1785.jpg 682w" sizes="auto, (max-width: 200px) 100vw, 200px" />
“The circumstances surrounding that particular day were very difficult. I got a call from Zindzi, who alerted me she had heard her father was critical. I rushed [to the hospital] and when I arrived…the doctors let me sit next to his head. He was breathing with difficulty. But his face looked very calm. I sat there for three-and-a-half hours. I was just going downstairs at one point, and the doctors called me back and said ‘Mama, you can stand close to him’. I knew what they meant. He was breathing hard and pulled three deep breaths. The last one was very long, he had this smile on his face and he still moved his lips. And he was gone!”
And when it happened, the words “till death do us part” came to Winnie’s mind, she says, as she harked back to that day in June 1958 when she married Mandela.
“And that’s exactly what happened, I happened to be there. I just felt this excruciating pain. I didn’t know how they [her daughters] were going to be told. In fact, from that day, I have kept trying to imagine how they must have felt on that flight back&#8230;My eldest step-daughter [who was there] was wonderful in trying to bring order and comfort. I never dreamt I would witness [his final moment]. But for some reason, God decided I should be there…It was particularly rewarding that I managed to hold him when he pulled his last breath. It brought back all the memories of our struggle and what one had gone through politically, and a certain chapter was just closed.”
For Zindzi, that moment meant losing the father she had missed all her life, the 27 years that he was imprisoned by the white government in South Africa.
In the months before he died, aged 95, she had been a constant by his bedside, as he was in and out of hospital.
“All those health scares he had…you were mentally prepared, but not emotionally prepared to let go of somebody you have missed your entire life. The few years you have been given with him, you just wished to prolong and extend. Every moment counted. He had become so repetitive in the latter years, because of the ageing process, but we had learnt that even if he was telling a story for the 20th time, to enjoy as if we were hearing it for the first time,” says Zindzi.
Soon after his release from prison, on 11 February 1990 – when Winnie famously walked with him, hand in hand, clenched fist in the air – Mandela had returned to 8115, the house on Vilakazi Street. In his book, Long Walk To Freedom, he retells that moment: “For me, No. 8115 was the centrepoint of my world, the place marked with an X in my mental geography.”
“The house was too cramped,” says Zindzi, “so Mama moved to this house in Soweto thereafter.”
Winnie and Mandela were married
38 years.
“Were we? asks Winnie. The number escapes her now.
And then says: “We were never together. I was the most unmarried married woman.”
Freedom fighters don’t have personal lives. The years Mandela was imprisoned were most “difficult” as Winnie continued the defiance struggle. In 1969, she was jailed for almost 18 months, thrown into solitary confinement. How did the family cope?
Winnie passes on the question to Zindzi: “I think you should answer that.”
“I was 18 months old when my dad went to prison. I was a grown woman with three children when he came back. In between, I never always had my mother home, because she was often incarcerated herself,” says Zindzi.
At this point, her eyes well up.
“It wasn’t easy because the system was unbelievably brutal and harsh even to children… because one had to find oneself in adult spaces, making adult decisions and choices whilst still a child.”
When she was five, and her sister Zenani, six, they went to boarding school in Swaziland, because they couldn’t go to school anywhere in South Africa – the security forces said no.
<img loading="lazy" decoding="async" class="size-medium wp-image-29698 alignleft" src="http://www.forbesafrica.com/app/uploads/2017/05/IMG_1730-300x200.jpg" alt="" width="300" height="200" srcset="https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/IMG_1730-300x200.jpg 300w, https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/IMG_1730-600x400.jpg 600w, https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/IMG_1730-768x512.jpg 768w, https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/IMG_1730.jpg 1024w" sizes="auto, (max-width: 300px) 100vw, 300px" />
“The moment we got to a school, the security police would get there, harass the principal, and we would be thrown out. We were literally on a tour of schools. At some stage we had to play colored, we straightened our hair, we changed our identities, and [still] they caught up with us. It reached a stage where my mother was now stuck at home with two children who couldn’t go to school…they wanted to break her, and break my father…they wanted to say, ‘even your children will have no normalcy in their childhood’,” says Zindzi.
They were shunted from school to school, spending various stages of their childhood living in other homes. When they returned home from boarding school, the authorities would take their mother away.
“On the day that school closes, we would come back to the house, and find mother has been locked up that same morning. This became a pattern, where, as children, we would come home and not even know where the key was&#8230;Somebody [would] take us and dump us with aunts. But then I was given an extended family, because of the choices my parents made, and choices, that mind you, if I were to do all over again, I wouldn’t change anything.”
Zindzi says she is grateful for those years, as they taught her to be self-reliant and determined.
“I have learnt to respect the strength of an African woman because of the example set by my mother…She taught us a strong work ethic. I started working at the age of 13.”
Winnie finds it hard to describe her own experience of those years, especially the indignity of her time in prison, and then her exile in Brandfort, in South Africa’s Free State. In her book, 491 Days, published by Pan Macmillan, she shares her despair
and resilience.
“It’s not possible to attribute precisely how one coped. It was particularly painful in the sense that it actually dawned on me that our freedom was so priceless…I didn’t know where my children were, and they were so young. I hate to revisit that chapter. I decided to bury it for years in my subconscious mind so I could deal with the pain differently, otherwise I wouldn’t have been able to carry on the task bestowed on me by fate. You had to make a decision then whether you were going to give in to the enemy or fight till the last drop of your blood. I am so grateful my children have turned out the way they are,” says Winnie.
Did she feel anger?
“I don’t think I would be here if I had that continued feeling. As angry as I was during the 491 days, you sort of learn to live with that kind of political background, if you are ultimately rewarded by the liberation of your country.”
We near the end of the interview and as the cameras are put away and the mood lightens, she turns to me and asks: “What is the Mandela legacy actually?”
“It is a political legacy,” she goes on.
“We need to remind future generations that the Mandela legacy is not what you can make out of his name. It’s not about creating entities that are going to give capital. Our legacy is political, it was never about material gain…it’s not about the statues in the country, it’s not about egos. I never wanted to be associated with such things, which is why I am [living] in Soweto. My days will come to an end here with the people I threw stones with.”

IMG_1730

A Year Without Mandela ‘There Can Never Be Closure’

I don’t speak English well,” confesses Aya Konan at the other end of the line. The long-distance conversation does no justice to her well-known effervescent personality. To most Ivorians, she is as famous as their country itself.
Yet, it’s not often that one gets to speak to a designer from Côte d’Ivoire, that beautiful West African country where people speak better French than English.
From her interrupted, reluctant rendition of the English language, you realize that Konan’s real expression is her art form. That her medium is metal, and she is a master story-teller when she works with it.
<img loading="lazy" decoding="async" class="size-medium wp-image-29691" src="http://www.forbesafrica.com/app/uploads/2017/05/46_17-199x300.jpg" alt="" width="199" height="300" srcset="https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/46_17-199x300.jpg 199w, https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/46_17-300x451.jpg 300w, https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/46_17.jpg 377w" sizes="auto, (max-width: 199px) 100vw, 199px" />
Konan’s life has been a confluence of French and African culture. Her father is Ivorian and her mother French, specifically Alsatian. Born in France, Konan grew up in Côte d’Ivoire from the age of five and left her country again for her studies at the age of 18. By then, she had already dabbled in design. Attending fashion shows as a child, she had seen women wearing only European jewelry. She was determined to change that.
Konan acquired a degree as a computer technician to “please her parents”, but her interest lay in the creative arts. She returned after 12 years to Côte d’Ivoire to craft modern jewelry infusing African traditions. Her inspiration is ancient Akan jewelry and the royal courts, which she aptly captures in her Makeda line of jewelry. Today, she sells wearable art and home décor to clients around the world.
An ardent admirer of Maya Angelou and Miriam Makeba, Konan is a mother of three, married to an architect. She speaks from her home in Abidjan about creativity, Côte d’Ivoire and women in Africa:
&nbsp;
Why is Akan art an inspiration?
I am very inspired by the clothing and jewelry of the ancient Akan royal courts in Ghana and Côte d’Ivoire.
&nbsp;
What medium do you mostly work with?
I work with metals imported from France to respect international standards. After the conception of a masterpiece on metal, I add beads, rhinestones and shells.
Who is your target audience?
My initial target market was ladies over 30 who dressed in traditional African fabrics. Today, I have a line targeted at a younger clientele. My daughters have inspired me. There are accessories, bags, belts, T-shirts etc. I am very careful to be competitive about the prices, to reach as many people as possible, but Makeda is still a premium product.
&nbsp;
How big is your business?
Makeda gathers several activities. The structure has grown and the most important division is Makeda Deco, which has our highest turnover. It produces decorations for events such as weddings and galas. I love everything that is creative. We have a decoration shop where we provide everything for an event such as flowers, rhinestones nd chocolate candles.
<img loading="lazy" decoding="async" class="size-medium wp-image-29690" src="http://www.forbesafrica.com/app/uploads/2017/05/34_24-199x300.jpg" alt="" width="199" height="300" srcset="https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/34_24-199x300.jpg 199w, https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/34_24-300x451.jpg 300w, https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/34_24.jpg 377w" sizes="auto, (max-width: 199px) 100vw, 199px" />
Where do you retail at the moment?
I opened my first shop in the Place des Victoires in Paris in 1994; at that time, I was manufacturing my jewelry in Paris. Then in 1997, I decided to go back to Africa where I mounted a foundry to be self-sufficient in the production. Later, I opened a showroom and then a few years later a large shop.
&nbsp;
How are female creative entrepreneurs viewed in Africa and the rest of the world?
I think the female entrepreneur has her place just like a man. In fact, I have never considered the question in those terms because I never felt a barrier because I am a woman. That could be the advantage of a creative profession. These are trades where only creativity and emotion count. Dreaming and creating dreams are most important in my line of work.
&nbsp;
In terms of creativity, what sets Côte d’Ivoire apart from the rest of Africa?
My answer is biased because I love my country. Creativity is everywhere in the city, at every intersection, and in even the most remote towns and villages. Ivorians create all the time and even in the most absurd and most terrible ways, as during the post-election violence that hit our country. Many have painted and, particularly, sung on the theme of the crisis. This is a country which is very open to art of all types. So, everything is possible.
&nbsp;
What is the future of women
in Africa?
For me, women play an important role in Africa; they are very enterprising as they are often the pillars of their families. In Côte d’Ivoire, for instance, it is thanks to women that food markets are supplied. I have daughters, and I admire how their generation evolves with tremendous confidence and grand ambitions. I am confident about the future of women.
&nbsp;
What is life like in Côte d’Ivoire?
Life is very nice, as long as there is no political unrest of course, as in many African countries. Abidjan is a city where attitudes are changing and there is tremendous potential in many industries. Cultural life is becoming increasingly important and you see all sorts of occupations, just like you do in large Western cities. Fashion plays a very important role here.

32_32

French Notes From The Creative Coast

It was her parents’ inability to pay her fees that made Best Ayiorworth drop out of secondary school. But that spurred at the time, 19-year-old Ugandan girl to start a microlending business to help other young girls complete their schooling.
Ayiorworth started Girl Power Micro-credit Organization (GIPOMO) focusing on the education of young girls in her community in Northern Uganda. She designed it in such a way that if mothers are introduced to business with the help of microfinance loans, they would in turn focus on the education of their daughters.
In Uganda, where families struggle to put their children through school, the girl child is often overlooked and forced to stay at home.
“It pained me like crazy when I had to drop out of school,” says Ayiorworth. Pain led to creativity.
The business did not happen overnight though. One of her sisters helped Ayiorworth enrol for various short courses to pass time. She dabbled in graphic design, web design, did a catering course and was employed as a chef at a Mexican restaurant. She used her first salary of $40 to start her organization.
She thought if she could empower women financially, they in turn, would support the education of their children, especially the girls. Ayiorwoth began by giving monthly micro loans with 10% interest rates, to enable women to grow their small businesses. She would reinvest her profit back into her business. When her mentor at a vocational training school saw the idea being implemented, she loaned Ayiorwoth USh800,000 ($295) to boost the business.
But nine months into the enterprise, two women ran away with USh400,000 ($142). Ayiorworth did not let that upset her. She laid rules that would help her run the enterprise more successfully. If the women who were part of the business did not meet the organization’s mandate of supporting the girl child with the money they made, she disqualified them from the scheme.
Although Ayiorworth started GIPOMO as a class project, it is still going strong. She says she has saved over USh6 million ($2,200) and is working with about 35 women in her village in Nebbi District.

DSCF5349

The Student Model

Of the names on this year’s Power Women list, 14 are under 45. Whether the majority of their influence remains in business, tech, politics or entertainment, there are two qualities they all strongly share: resilience and the desire to better the world.
Spanx founder Sara Blakely, 43, lands the No.93 spot on the list. In 2012, she became the youngest woman to join our Billionaires list without help from a husband or an inheritance. Blakely has come a long way since age 29, when she invested her entire life savings of $5,000 to invent the line of slimming undergarments. Spanx is worn and adorned by many women: Jane Fonda deemed it as the clothing equivalent of an iPhone, wondering, “How did we ever get on without them?”
While on the topic of body and brand, Lady Gaga is the youngest woman on this year’s list at No.67. With last year’s release of her third studio album, Artpop, the 28-year-old entertainer-advocate’s fame has faltered, but not enough to knock her off the list. The Queen Monster has a loyal following of fans who help her attain concert figures of holy proportions. She earned an estimated $50 million from her Born This Way tour.
<img loading="lazy" decoding="async" class="size-medium wp-image-29679 alignleft" src="http://www.forbesafrica.com/app/uploads/2017/05/Angelina-Jolie-151x300.jpg" alt="" width="151" height="300" srcset="https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/Angelina-Jolie-151x300.jpg 151w, https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/Angelina-Jolie-300x597.jpg 300w, https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/Angelina-Jolie-768x1528.jpg 768w, https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/Angelina-Jolie-515x1024.jpg 515w, https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/Angelina-Jolie.jpg 514w" sizes="auto, (max-width: 151px) 100vw, 151px" />
Angelina Jolie, 38, is another entertainer to make the list (No.50). With $33 million in earnings the past year (2013), she is one of the highest paid actresses in Hollywood. But even with her unrivaled status, Jolie’s true power and influence comes from her multifaceted ambitions as an activist and philanthropist.
No. 63 is Samantha Power, who was named United States ambassador to the United Nations in 2013. At 43, the former journalist and national security specialist is the youngest American to hold the post.
President Obama describes her as “one of our foremost thinkers on foreign policy”.
Then there are the women in tech, who are helping to redefine the industry as a place that is welcoming for females, like Amy Hood and Marissa Mayer (No.48 and 18 respectively). Last May (2013), Hood became Microsoft’s first female CFO, taking on the responsibility of managing the company’s $83.3 billion in revenue. Sheryl Sandberg, COO of Facebook, takes the No.9 spot on the Power list. The 44-year-old’s best-selling book Lean In is a title that needs no introduction (and one conference-goers will likely find in their gift bags).

14 Under 45: The Youngest Power Women Of 2014 in the US

If Johannesburg is South Africa’s business heart, Cape Town, The Mother City, is its creative soul. The city, which is currently World Design Capital, is home to the country’s creative industries – film, animation, fashion, food and advertising. Its inhabitants are driving a creative prerogative from Africa with a global appeal.
Hanli Prinsloo and Hanneli Rupert are two Cape Townians who are making their voices heard on the world stage. In 2014, they were both named Young Global Leaders by the World Economic Forum (WEF).
FORBES WOMAN AFRICA brought Prinsloo and Rupert together for a joint photoshoot, a month before the WEF’s Meeting of the New Champions in Tianjin, China.
Rupert and Prinsloo are young, intelligent and excited about the difference that their businesses can make in sustaining an Africa of beauty and prosperity. Together, they embody the creative spirit of Cape Town and the fearlessness of the women of Africa.
&nbsp;
<h2>Hanli Prinsloo</h2>
<h5>The Freediving Mermaid</h5>
<img loading="lazy" decoding="async" class="size-medium wp-image-29676 alignleft" src="http://www.forbesafrica.com/app/uploads/2017/05/546A4549-200x300.jpg" alt="" width="200" height="300" srcset="https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/546A4549-200x300.jpg 200w, https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/546A4549-300x450.jpg 300w, https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/546A4549-600x900.jpg 600w, https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/546A4549-683x1024.jpg 683w, https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/546A4549.jpg 682w" sizes="auto, (max-width: 200px) 100vw, 200px" />
When Hanli Prinsloo was a little girl, she dreamt about being a mermaid. Her oceans were the dams surrounding her parents’ horse farm on the outskirts of Johannesburg, South Africa. Her fishtail was her two feet – filthy from running around barefoot with her sister, Marieke.
“I was surrounded by animals, trees, fields and rivers, and we grew up to love nature. I was crazy, wild as a child – a complete tomboy. Our parents raised us to follow our dreams and we did,” says the 36-year-old Prinsloo.
These days, she lives in a small fishing village less than an hour outside of Cape Town. The ocean is at her disposal and her fishtail is a large state-of-the-art monofin. Apart from that, not much has changed. Prinsloo still dreams big.
The Blue Planet
The I Am Water Trust is an ocean conservation organization founded by Prinsloo in 2010, whose purpose is to educate and foster love for the ocean and all life forms that call it home. Few people will love something they don’t know and Prinsloo is on a drive to increase awareness about water by facilitating experiences out in the big blue. Much of the education is directed at previously-disadvantaged individuals who may not have access to the ocean’s beauty.
Prinsloo was inspired to create I Am Water after close to a decade spent in water as a competitive freediver and coach. For the uninitiated, freediving is a niche underwater diving practice which relies on the diver holding his or her breath until resurfacing. Prinsloo was first introduced to the sport when she was 20.
“When you go underwater you don’t talk, you look inwards and you just experience the ocean and the animal and plant life around you. For your mind, being underwater is a state of meditation or a state of no mind…maybe,” she says.
“When we go underwater together, we find a connection to each other. I first found that connection to myself and to others when I went underwater. It is the most quiet and peaceful experience.”
Prinsloo began competing and broke her first South Africa freediving record in 2003. A series of accolades followed and Prinsloo is now firmly placed in the freediving hall of fame. She teaches freediving and has coached various sportspeople – from surfers to rugby players – in the mental strength needed to hold your breath under water for close to six minutes.
“The more time I spent in the ocean, the more I wanted to protect it and share it with others. The first thing that unites us all is being in water,” says Prinsloo. The I Am Water Trust was founded with the help of the Ewing Trust Company.
Prinsloo’s other incarnations include documentary-maker and actress. At 19, she relocated to Gothenburg, Sweden, with little financial means, no language proficiency and zero friend or family contacts there.
“My family had traveled to Europe and I had loved the Scandinavian countries because the society is one that supports and celebrates art and creativity. Studies were free so I decided why not?”
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<h5>Filming Africa For Sweden</h5>
“Looking back, I don’t know how my 19-year-old self did it. I learnt Swedish from scratch and supported myself entirely. I couldn’t do that again!” she says. Prinsloo studied towards a performing arts degree and project management and following a short stint as an actress, opened a small agency in Stockholm which specialized in making documentaries.
Prinsloo traveled through Africa putting together short documentaries and reports for Swedish television channels.
“There is so much news of despair coming out from Africa. I didn’t want to tell those stories. I wanted to tell stories of hope. I met people who had witnessed genocide and who loved life so much, that was the Africa I wanted to show to Europe.”
Her final long form documentary project was White as Blood – a story of a woman’s journey home to South Africa. A prophetic topic as Prinsloo soon found herself home for good.
<h2>Hanneli Rupert</h2>
<h5>The Art Aficionado</h5>
<img loading="lazy" decoding="async" class="size-medium wp-image-29675 alignleft" src="http://www.forbesafrica.com/app/uploads/2017/05/546A4242-200x300.jpg" alt="" width="200" height="300" srcset="https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/546A4242-200x300.jpg 200w, https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/546A4242-300x450.jpg 300w, https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/546A4242-600x900.jpg 600w, https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/546A4242-683x1024.jpg 683w, https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/546A4242.jpg 682w" sizes="auto, (max-width: 200px) 100vw, 200px" />
Hanneli Rupert is on a mission to showcase African opulence. Born in South Africa in 1984 but a citizen of the world, Rupert is looking beyond West-led definitions of high-end personal luxury and is creating bespoke items such as handbags and accessories while retaining the entire manufacturing value chain on the continent.
Rupert trained as a painter at the Wimbledon School of Art. Her first art exhibition, called Flesh Mandala’s, focused on the transient qualities of the human skin as depicted by anonymous human bodies.
“I looked at applying some of the more linear sides of my art work to fashion. I found I was designing things for myself – things like bags and necklaces – and people would ask me where they came from.”
Rupert was using organic elements in her designs, an application of a deep-seated fascination with the mystical and the anthropological dimension of Africa’s history. Elements such as raw hides, shells and animal bones were all curated with the purpose of evoking the clandestine romance of a pre-colonial unexplored Africa.
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<h5>Athens To Africa</h5>
“At the time I was living in Athens and I wanted to come back to South Africa. I picked up on a demand for high-end goods from the continent – not just from overseas but from African customers as well. What I didn’t like was that luxury products were being designed and manufactured in established markets using our natural resources,” says Rupert.
“I wanted to do something to add to the value chain here at home.”
Back home in Cape Town in 2008, Rupert founded a luxury handbag line Okapi named after the ancient unicorn-like beast in African folklore.
“I wanted to use game skins on the bags. Game skins are not commonly used in fashion because the hide is imperfect; sometimes you can see scars from where the animal has been in a fight. I love that though, it has character and meaning.”
Rupert then began working with craft groups in and around the Western Cape to create charm add-ons for the handbags. There are detachable chains made from semi-precious African stones and agate, which can also double up as necklaces, as well as charms made from ostrich feathers and bones. The bags themselves are classic in line and the colors – a lot of tan, a lot of muted greens and reds – timeless. Rupert is decidedly not about fads but rather about lasting statement pieces.
“What’s really important to me is authenticity. The origin of the design needs to have meaning and it needs to be backed in history. This carries through to the sourcing of raw materials and the manufacture of the product.
“There is a symbolism in accessorizing, which transcends cultures and historical periods and that is really appealing to me. All humans accessorize to communicate a status. But adornments have become disposable these days and there are few jewelry items which still have meaning. I want the accessories I design and which I wear, to have meaning,”
she says.
The theory behind Okapi is right on the pulse of the current zeitgeist celebrating a mindfully-led curatorship of one’s material possessions. The springbok horn has become an emblem of sorts for the brand.
Rupert wears a black lacquered version swinging low off a chunky gold chain. She explains that Springbok horns were considered lucky in many ancient African cultures and thought to bring prosperity to those who wore them, hence why they can often be found hanging off an Okapi handbag.
Intelligent Fashion
The design ethos carries right through to Rupert’s personal style choices. She is very much about classic and simple but there is a vein of exoticism that runs through her edited preppy wardrobe.
“I love cross-referencing different design and style elements in the way I dress. There’s an intellectual approach to fashion which really excites me.”
Okapi handbags were initially sold online and in a number of stores in London and South Africa. Two years later, in 2010, the desire to create a platform to sell more African-sourced goods prompted Rupert to open her flagship store – Merchants on Long. True to type, the building itself is steeped in history having presided over more than a century of change in Cape Town’s city center.
The store has thrived and Rupert continues to search for ways to incorporate more African designs and more local production into her growing business.

After-touchup

Hanli & Hanneli

Ufuoma Ekpecham left Lagos for London eight years ago with her suitcases, two kids and a heavy heart. She had to leave; she needed a change: the heartache following her parents’ death, three months within each other, was too much to handle. She had to divert her mind, and quickly.
<img loading="lazy" decoding="async" class="size-medium wp-image-29664 alignleft" src="http://www.forbesafrica.com/app/uploads/2017/05/Ufuoma-Ekpecham-of-JoshNicol-pic-taken-by-Trevor-Sturmann-200x300.jpg" alt="" width="200" height="300" srcset="https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/Ufuoma-Ekpecham-of-JoshNicol-pic-taken-by-Trevor-Sturmann-200x300.jpg 200w, https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/Ufuoma-Ekpecham-of-JoshNicol-pic-taken-by-Trevor-Sturmann-300x450.jpg 300w, https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/Ufuoma-Ekpecham-of-JoshNicol-pic-taken-by-Trevor-Sturmann-600x900.jpg 600w, https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/Ufuoma-Ekpecham-of-JoshNicol-pic-taken-by-Trevor-Sturmann-768x1152.jpg 768w, https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/Ufuoma-Ekpecham-of-JoshNicol-pic-taken-by-Trevor-Sturmann-683x1024.jpg 683w, https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/Ufuoma-Ekpecham-of-JoshNicol-pic-taken-by-Trevor-Sturmann.jpg 682w" sizes="auto, (max-width: 200px) 100vw, 200px" />
She always had a flair for fashion – she had previously been “making some good money” designing clothes for friends and family, but not as a full-time professional.
Thanks to a supportive husband, who said “go back to school, learn it properly”, when the opportunity presented itself, she left Lagos to take up a degree in fashion design in London.
Her husband stayed on in Nigeria, and Ekpecham dove into her studies, managing the home and looking after the children on her own “minus the luxury of nannies or drivers”.
It was tough, but today, the 42-year-old is the London-based creative director of her clothing brand Josh &amp; Nicol, named after her children.
Recently in Johannesburg for the Mercedes-Benz Fashion Week Africa, showcasing her spring summer 2015 collection, Ekpecham says she is in a happy space, stronger and independent, just like the motif she uses throughout her new fashion line.
Her Popidia collection for the show was a tribute to Queen Idia of Benin, the only West African warrior queen from the Niger Delta.
“She epitomizes the African woman, strong and dependable,” says Ekpecham, who returned to her roots for inspiration for the new line.
As a child growing up in Benin and Port Harcourt, she wanted to become a doctor. She graduated with a degree in microbiology, but her love for fashion and Asoke fabrics overtook all academic pursuits. Her visits to the markets and her Ghanaian tailor, who gave life to her sketches, became more frequent. After a brief stint as a computer analyst, Ekpecham married at the age of 28, and between changing nappies, tailored wedding gowns and traditional outfits out of her garage.
Describing herself “a passionate go-getter”, Ekpecham’s goal is to start her own manufacturing unit in Lagos in 2015. London is only a six-hour flight away, and the new venture will see her returning home more often.
<h1>Riding A Wave</h1>
Noni Rwaxa, better known as the radio jockey ‘Ms Cosmo’, who hosts The Stir Up hip hop show on radio station 5FM, is now part of a collaborative campaign between Australian jewelry firm Mimco and Frends to promote – what else – headphones.
The 26-year-old radio personality, also a veejay on Channel O, has opened for big artists like Kanye West, Chris Brown, Kendrick Lamar and 2 Chainz.
Her family wanted her to take on the tried and tested route through education. She had other plans.
<img loading="lazy" decoding="async" class="size-medium wp-image-29665 alignleft" src="http://www.forbesafrica.com/app/uploads/2017/05/IMG_3007-200x300.jpg" alt="" width="200" height="300" srcset="https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/IMG_3007-200x300.jpg 200w, https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/IMG_3007-300x450.jpg 300w, https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/IMG_3007-600x900.jpg 600w, https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/IMG_3007-768x1152.jpg 768w, https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/IMG_3007-683x1024.jpg 683w, https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/IMG_3007.jpg 682w" sizes="auto, (max-width: 200px) 100vw, 200px" />
“My father’s concern was for me to get a tertiary qualification. I graduated with a BCom degree in finance from the University of Johannesburg; my mother still finds it amusing when I pack my equipment for an event,” says Rwaxa.
After graduating, she worked as a property finance consultant. The time she spent in the corporate space is a period she describes as the worst, as she suffered depression. It was clearly not for her.
Hip hop musician Khuli Chana suggested she join the Fuse Academy school for female disc jockeys. She enrolled and after the course, made inroads in radio in 2012. She was invited to play on Channel O Bassment, and YFM, a South African youth radio station. She finally joined 5FM hosting The Stir Up.
“I’m happy the projections for radio in South Africa are positive. That said, I can’t ignore what is happening in Ghana, Kenya and particularly Nigeria. Nigerian artists are collaborating with international acts. Nat-C, Davido and P-Square are breaking boundaries putting in the hard work to reap rewards.”
She wants to be in the industry for the long haul, and is doing everything to ensure the longevity of her brand.
“I have sought partnerships with various brands for growth for myself and the brand of choice, as hip hop is cool influential culture…I have two other event deals I want to announce but you will have to wait until January.”
Watch this space for more.

Designs On Africa

He was a familiar face in her neighbor-hood who offered her a ride one day.
But as the little car drove past her stop, where she was to get off, and sped on to the freeway and into inner city Johannesburg, she knew there was danger ahead.
“From that moment, I just felt something was not right. He wasn’t touching me, he wasn’t doing anything but I just knew it,” says Nkuli Bogopa, opening up about the day she was raped at the age of 19 by a man she knew in a part of town she was afraid of. The darkness of that day seems light years away, visibly conflicting with the cheerful woman she is today in the brightly-colored room where we meet.
Bogopa is a woman of the new South African middle class, with a tertiary degree, a great job and a family. She is not the common face of rape in this country. Yet, we can only blame popular perceptions of rape for this.
Shortly before the interview, Bogopa was the one asking the questions: “what kind of women have you reached out to?”, “where are they from?”, and “what did they do?”.
It was easy to understand her concern: rape survivors are not an analogous demographic. They are separate people, from discrete communities and backgrounds. They were brought up in different ways and believe in different things.
<img loading="lazy" decoding="async" class="size-medium wp-image-29661 alignleft" src="http://www.forbesafrica.com/app/uploads/2017/05/shutterstock_184280369-300x200.jpg" alt="" width="300" height="200" srcset="https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/shutterstock_184280369-300x200.jpg 300w, https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/shutterstock_184280369-600x400.jpg 600w, https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/shutterstock_184280369-768x512.jpg 768w, https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/shutterstock_184280369-1024x683.jpg 1024w, https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/shutterstock_184280369.jpg 1023w" sizes="auto, (max-width: 300px) 100vw, 300px" />
The violation of their bodies, and in some cases, hopes, is the single thing that unites them. In many cases, it changes them completely. The person who emerges from a sexual assault can never be the same again. At the same time, the people and the world around the victim change. American writer and lecturer on psychology and politics, Andrew Solomon, says it best.
“Historically, rape has been seen less as a violation of a woman than as a theft from a man to whom that woman belonged, either her husband or her father, who suffered an economic loss (a woman’s marriageability spoiled) and an insult to his honor.”
Fear And Shame
In South Africa, signs of this quiet paternalistic culture are clear. This can explain, partly, the culture of fear and shame that surrounds reporting a rape or seeking justice.
Perhaps a popular example of this is the 2006 rape trial of a prominent South African politician, who in his 60s, was accused of raping a 31-year-old woman, related to him through a family friendship. At the end of a two-month trial, the politician was acquitted.
The brutal gang rape and disembowelment of Western Cape teen, Anene Booysen in 2013 was another famous case that rocked South Africa. Weeks earlier, there had been fury in India after a young woman in New Delhi was killed in a similar, hideous crime, and a furious South Africa realized it too was confronting a tide of sexual violence.
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Is There Justice?
The nation has not completely failed its women, children and sexually-vulnerable citizens. In 2007, the laws governing rape changed. Definitions were broadened to include both male and female victims as well as a range of sexual violations that constitute an offense.
Even the nature of the law changed. Rape is no longer governed by common law which relies heavily on the court’s prior decisions. Legislation is now in place which elevates rape to a statutory offense.
Signs of change have been celebrated by prosecutors.
In 2007, the year the new sexual offenses act came into operation, over 52,000 rape and other sexual crimes were reported to police and relevant authorities. However, in the course of gathering evidence, 60% of these cases were abandoned. Eventually, only 2,105 cases secured conviction which is only 4% of all cases reported that year.
Seven years later, the figures are much healthier. This year, more than 62,000 victims came forward, over half them were specifically rape complaints. It was a bumper crop for convictions, the highest in recent history, at 67%.
However, if you look at actual statistics, you’ll notice a major shortfall. The conviction rate corresponds to cases that ended up going to trial. So in reality, of the cases reported this year, only 8,174 went to court and only 5,484 cases secured convictions. It illustrates that sexual violence in South Africa is still an issue that needs to be addressed.
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The Third Witness
There are adverse circumstances responsible for this.
Cases are often withdrawn due to lack of evidence. The J88 form, known in courtrooms as the ‘third witness’, is a form filled after a sexual offense is reported. It records medical evidence on the victim and determines whether a rape occurred. Often, injuries are relied upon as signs of violation. In many cases, the information is vague or the examination is rushed. Advocates routinely argue for these reports to be made inadmissible during trial, eliminating the only tangible evidence of a rape outside of witness testimonies.
In some cases, rape dockets detailing the original complaint, disappear without explanation. In some areas, there is allegedly an ‘unofficial’ price list to make them disappear.
Mara Glennie, founder of Tears Foundation, a referral service for victims of sexual crimes, says this might be true in certain parts of the country.
“I do believe that [this] does happen. There are areas in our country that have a high incidence of gangsterism where this can occur.”
Without a docket recording an offense, a case cannot proceed to trial.
<img loading="lazy" decoding="async" class="size-medium wp-image-29660 alignleft" src="http://www.forbesafrica.com/app/uploads/2017/05/shutterstock_91193030-300x200.jpg" alt="" width="300" height="200" srcset="https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/shutterstock_91193030-300x200.jpg 300w, https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/shutterstock_91193030-600x400.jpg 600w, https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/shutterstock_91193030-768x512.jpg 768w, https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/shutterstock_91193030-1024x683.jpg 1024w, https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/shutterstock_91193030.jpg 1023w" sizes="auto, (max-width: 300px) 100vw, 300px" />
Other reasons leading to the low number of cases that go to court have to do with criminal procedure. Investigators assigned to a case can be spread too thin so they may not follow up the complaint, or they report the victim or accused missing. If either one is missing, or cannot be found due to address informalities common in townships and rural areas, a case cannot go to trial.
But perhaps the greatest hurdle to having a case go to court happens at the point of reporting it. Glennie was herself a victim of sexual and violent abuse. She remembers her visit to the police station.
“I went to my local police station with black eyes and limping. I asked if I could lay a charge of abuse.”
It was a Friday and when she got to the station she was asked to return on Monday because the responsible officer was not around.
“Quite often you have unsympathetic people, generally-speaking, people who don’t want to help. It’s a messy procedure,” she says.
However, there may be a reason behind the lethargy at police stations. The South African Police Service has targets to meet and is expected to reduce violent crime by at least 4% each year. This serves as a major disincentive for officers to ensure that reported rape cases reach investigators and prosecutors.
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‘Jackrolling’
But victims themselves are slow to report crimes because of fear. In a majority of cases, the offenders are known to them, as Bogopa’s story shows. Far beyond intimidation, women who have been raped may be slow to speak because of cultural taboos.
“No one wants to say they’ve been abused by their partner, people may not want to date a rape victim. Also, there are negative financial consequences, the person that hurt you might be the breadwinner,” says Glennie.
But beyond the structures that victims can appeal to, the context in which they live is at odds with itself. South Africa is a historically conservative country grappling with the progressive laws that now govern it. The prevalence of rape and other violent crime has often been blamed on a crippling culture of violence that began during colonial rule and continued past the end of apartheid.
The legacy of the country’s past has encouraged violence in certain parts of the country. Former segregationist policies left townships unpoliced in some instances. Gangs and criminal groups in townships flourished during this time.
In Soweto, the Jack Roller gang, a youth gang prominent in the 1980s, were specialists in abducting and raping women in townships.
Their legacy continues with ‘jackrolling’ as the common street term for recreationally raping women in this way. It is clear that to alleviate the sexual crime endemic in South Africa, the mindsets of perpetrators have to change.
Back in Bogopa’s colorful office, she talks about a project she is working on.
“For as long as women are the only people talking about this issue, it’s never going to change. Our jails are full of men, our street corners are full of men, a majority of our crime is committed by men. Women are on the receiving end, men are on the other side. We need to invest more time in the boy child, we need to build better men.”
So this has become her crusade, she founded an organization that routinely brings young men together to freely discuss the “the issues of life”. Bogopa is working with a small group of young men which she hopes to grow to 2,050 annually.
“I want the message to be as broad-based as possible,” she says.
In a country known to be an international rape capital, cultural and historical problems run deep. The South African Medical Council has noted that only one in nine rape victims make it to the police station to report the crime implying the reported figures may be much higher.
Even as more and more rapes are recorded and conviction rates rise, the problems within and around sexual violence in the Republic hint at a quiet crisis where the nation’s constitutional ideals are misaligned with the attitudes of its public.

Rape-1

Rape

Africa billionaires are lining up to put their money where their mouth is in the fight against Ebola.
At least four FORBES AFRICA cover millionaires are putting up to $50 million to fight the disease. It’s being seen as Africa solving its own problems.
<img loading="lazy" decoding="async" class="size-medium wp-image-29651 alignleft" src="http://www.forbesafrica.com/app/uploads/2017/05/Dangote-2-244x300.jpg" alt="" width="244" height="300" srcset="https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/Dangote-2-244x300.jpg 244w, https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/Dangote-2-300x368.jpg 300w, https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/Dangote-2-600x737.jpg 600w, https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/Dangote-2-768x943.jpg 768w, https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/Dangote-2-834x1024.jpg 834w, https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/Dangote-2.jpg 833w" sizes="auto, (max-width: 244px) 100vw, 244px" />
The millionaires include: Africa’s richest man, Aliko Dangote of Dangote Group; Strive Masiyiwa, the Founder and Chairman of global telecommunications group Econet Wireless; Patrice Motsepe, the Founder and Executive Chairman of African Rainbow Minerals and Jim Ovia, Chairman and Co-Founder of Zenith Bank.
The fund, called the Business-to-Rescue Fund, was launched on November 8  at the African Union (AU) headquarters in Addis Ababa, the first meeting between the AU and the Africa’s private sector.
“Africa is becoming conscious of synergies that exist between entrepreneurship and development and Econet Wireless Group has been involved in the fight against Ebola as early as April,” says Masiyiwa.
Masiyiwa said business was affected by everything that threatens life in the African economy.
“Our focus is the economy and well-being of our generation. The African people will not allow Ebola to persist like the HIV/Aids pandemic.”
Kola Karim, the Managing Director and CEO of Shoreline Energy International, says leading billionaires have set up a benchmark fund of between $30 million to $50 million.
“It’s unfortunate that the Ebola has caused this much pain without a quick response both from governments and businesses. It is the responsibility of the governments and the private sector to make interventions when serious problems like Ebola attack the region,” says Karim.
Political analyst at the University of Johannesburg’s Centre for the Study of Democracy, Gideon Chitanga, says entrepreneurs are playing a role of corporate social responsibility.
“Africa has seen a surge in the number of billionaires in the past decade and it is time that these billionaires start giving back to communities where they are generating their wealth from,”
says Chitanga.

BW0A9892

Forbes Millionaires Shell Out To Stop Ebola

Royal visits are a big deal in Africa, whether lions to a waterhole or a crowned head of Europe to the southern tip. This particular tale of royalty visiting South Africa starts, strangely enough, in the snows of Davos at a lunch on obsession.
‘Is obsession always a good thing, or can it be bad’ was the title of a lunchtime session at the World Economic Forum at Davos, and Steffi Graf was one of seven scheduled speakers.
<div id="attachment_3292" style="width: 209px" class="wp-caption alignleft"><img loading="lazy" decoding="async" aria-describedby="caption-attachment-3292" class="size-medium wp-image-3292" src="/wp-content/uploads/2017/04/000_Par3359784-199x300.jpg" alt="" width="199" height="300" />Princess Mathilde (L) and Crownprince Philippe of Belgium (R) attend the military parade in Brussels on July 21, 2010, as part of the Belgian National Day. AFP PHOTO / BELGA PHOTO / ERIC LALMAND &#8211; BELGIUM OUT</div>
A tall, rather refined looking chap politely asked if he could occupy the chair next to mine.
“Of course, you needn&#8217;t ask, people can sit where they like,” I said.
“Ah, but you are important. Your name is writ large on the table, next to Ms Graf so I did need to ask.”
I chuckled. “Just the moderator of the session, not important at all,” I said.
“And who are you?” I asked, squinting at his large white card hanging from the participant ribbon everyone wears.
“Philippe,” he said.
“And what do you do, Philippe? I need to put you in a pigeonhole.”
“I&#8217;m a prince.”
“Oh? So what do you do?”
Slightly taken aback, he said, “I&#8217;m the Crown Prince of Belgium.”
“Yes, but what do you actually do? What is a Crown Prince&#8217;s job?”
“I help the government, I suppose. Actually I work pretty hard,” he reassured me, but now slightly aloof, I thought, realizing I’d been rather rude to royalty.
We were joined by the tennis wunderkind, lunch was underway, she spoke movingly of how she became obsessed with tennis, which brought her some happiness but also a lot of sadness as a child.
“When I was an unhappy girl because of fighting in the family, I would get over it by going out and hitting a ball against a wall,” said the tennis champion, world number one for 187 consecutive weeks.
“So when I made my first Wimbledon final, I told my coach I needed to hit against a wall. This is bad for your tennis, he said, and so he would not allow it. In fact there are no walls to hit against at Wimbledon anyway.”
“So I fired my coach the morning of my final and the officials found a wall against which I could hit a ball at a nearby school. I am not sure that kind of obsession is a good thing,” shy Steffi said with a smile.
She was world number one, for a total of 377 weeks and has 22 grand slam singles titles. “If I&#8217;d been world number one for just one week I&#8217;d have died a happy man,” I told the audience, and the Prince.
“By the way, I&#8217;m coming to South Africa in about six months,” he said.
“Great! Give me a call and you can come have lunch,” I said, and promptly forgot about it.
Seven months later, my rather bemused secretary said, “The Palace is on the line for you.”
A very plummy, terribly British voice said: “His Royal Highness Prince Philippe says you invited him to lunch and he’d like to take up the offer&#8230;”
“Certainly,” I spluttered.
“He is coming with an entourage, and asks if he may&#8230;”
“Of course, they are all welcome.”
“Good,” said plummy voice. “There are 124 of them.”
Astounded silence from me, laughter from him.
“No, he just wants to bring the five or six cabinet ministers traveling with him.”
And so, sometime in Africa, it came to pass that Prince Philippe dined at The Star with assorted ministers of state.
Soon after our function, Belgium’s government failed spectacularly, leaving the country without any government for months.
On July 21 last year, my prince became King Philippe. He did say, in thanking me after our modest repast, that if I ever found myself in Belgium I should visit him at the palace. I have never taken up the offer. He was only the Crown Prince then.
Perhaps I&#8217;ll pop in one day just to ask him impertinently: “So, what does a King actually do?”
Royal visits are a big deal in Africa, whether lions to a waterhole or a crowned head of Europe to the southern tip. This particular tale of royalty visiting South Africa starts, strangely enough, in the snows of Davos at a lunch on obsession.
‘Is obsession always a good thing, or can it be bad’ was the title of a lunchtime session at the World Economic Forum at Davos, and Steffi Graf was one of seven scheduled speakers.
A tall, rather refined looking chap politely asked if he could occupy the chair next to mine.
“Of course, you needn&#8217;t ask, people can sit where they like,” I said.
“Ah, but you are important. Your name is writ large on the table, next to Ms Graf so I did need to ask.”
I chuckled. “Just the moderator of the session, not important at all,” I said.
“And who are you?” I asked, squinting at his large white card hanging from the participant ribbon everyone wears.
“Philippe,” he said.
“And what do you do, Philippe? I need to put you in a pigeonhole.”
“I&#8217;m a prince.”
“Oh? So what do you do?”
Slightly taken aback, he said, “I&#8217;m the Crown Prince of Belgium.”
“Yes, but what do you actually do? What is a Crown Prince&#8217;s job?”
“I help the government, I suppose. Actually I work pretty hard,” he reassured me, but now slightly aloof, I thought, realizing I’d been rather rude to royalty.
We were joined by the tennis wunderkind, lunch was underway, she spoke movingly of how she became obsessed with tennis, which brought her some happiness but also a lot of sadness as a child.
“When I was an unhappy girl because of fighting in the family, I would get over it by going out and hitting a ball against a wall,” said the tennis champion, world number one for 187 consecutive weeks.
“So when I made my first Wimbledon final, I told my coach I needed to hit against a wall. This is bad for your tennis, he said, and so he would not allow it. In fact there are no walls to hit against at Wimbledon anyway.”
“So I fired my coach the morning of my final and the officials found a wall against which I could hit a ball at a nearby school. I am not sure that kind of obsession is a good thing,” shy Steffi said with a smile.
She was world number one, for a total of 377 weeks and has 22 grand slam singles titles. “If I&#8217;d been world number one for just one week I&#8217;d have died a happy man,” I told the audience, and the Prince.
“By the way, I&#8217;m coming to South Africa in about six months,” he said.
“Great! Give me a call and you can come have lunch,” I said, and promptly forgot about it.
Seven months later, my rather bemused secretary said, “The Palace is on the line for you.”
A very plummy, terribly British voice said: “His Royal Highness Prince Philippe says you invited him to lunch and he’d like to take up the offer&#8230;”
“Certainly,” I spluttered.
“He is coming with an entourage, and asks if he may&#8230;”
“Of course, they are all welcome.”
“Good,” said plummy voice. “There are 124 of them.”
Astounded silence from me, laughter from him.
“No, he just wants to bring the five or six cabinet ministers traveling with him.”
And so, sometime in Africa, it came to pass that Prince Philippe dined at The Star with assorted ministers of state.
Soon after our function, Belgium’s government failed spectacularly, leaving the country without any government for months.
On July 21 last year, my prince became King Philippe. He did say, in thanking me after our modest repast, that if I ever found myself in Belgium I should visit him at the palace. I have never taken up the offer. He was only the Crown Prince then.
Perhaps I&#8217;ll pop in one day just to ask him impertinently: “So, what does a King actually do?”
Royal visits are a big deal in Africa, whether lions to a waterhole or a crowned head of Europe to the southern tip. This particular tale of royalty visiting South Africa starts, strangely enough, in the snows of Davos at a lunch on obsession.
‘Is obsession always a good thing, or can it be bad’ was the title of a lunchtime session at the World Economic Forum at Davos, and Steffi Graf was one of seven scheduled speakers.
A tall, rather refined looking chap politely asked if he could occupy the chair next to mine.
“Of course, you needn&#8217;t ask, people can sit where they like,” I said.
“Ah, but you are important. Your name is writ large on the table, next to Ms Graf so I did need to ask.”
I chuckled. “Just the moderator of the session, not important at all,” I said.
“And who are you?” I asked, squinting at his large white card hanging from the participant ribbon everyone wears.
“Philippe,” he said.
“And what do you do, Philippe? I need to put you in a pigeonhole.”
“I&#8217;m a prince.”
“Oh? So what do you do?”
Slightly taken aback, he said, “I&#8217;m the Crown Prince of Belgium.”
“Yes, but what do you actually do? What is a Crown Prince&#8217;s job?”
“I help the government, I suppose. Actually I work pretty hard,” he reassured me, but now slightly aloof, I thought, realizing I’d been rather rude to royalty.
We were joined by the tennis wunderkind, lunch was underway, she spoke movingly of how she became obsessed with tennis, which brought her some happiness but also a lot of sadness as a child.
“When I was an unhappy girl because of fighting in the family, I would get over it by going out and hitting a ball against a wall,” said the tennis champion, world number one for 187 consecutive weeks.
“So when I made my first Wimbledon final, I told my coach I needed to hit against a wall. This is bad for your tennis, he said, and so he would not allow it. In fact there are no walls to hit against at Wimbledon anyway.”
“So I fired my coach the morning of my final and the officials found a wall against which I could hit a ball at a nearby school. I am not sure that kind of obsession is a good thing,” shy Steffi said with a smile.
She was world number one, for a total of 377 weeks and has 22 grand slam singles titles. “If I&#8217;d been world number one for just one week I&#8217;d have died a happy man,” I told the audience, and the Prince.
“By the way, I&#8217;m coming to South Africa in about six months,” he said.
“Great! Give me a call and you can come have lunch,” I said, and promptly forgot about it.
Seven months later, my rather bemused secretary said, “The Palace is on the line for you.”
A very plummy, terribly British voice said: “His Royal Highness Prince Philippe says you invited him to lunch and he’d like to take up the offer&#8230;”
“Certainly,” I spluttered.
“He is coming with an entourage, and asks if he may&#8230;”
“Of course, they are all welcome.”
“Good,” said plummy voice. “There are 124 of them.”
Astounded silence from me, laughter from him.
“No, he just wants to bring the five or six cabinet ministers traveling with him.”
And so, sometime in Africa, it came to pass that Prince Philippe dined at The Star with assorted ministers of state.
Soon after our function, Belgium’s government failed spectacularly, leaving the country without any government for months.
On July 21 last year, my prince became King Philippe. He did say, in thanking me after our modest repast, that if I ever found myself in Belgium I should visit him at the palace. I have never taken up the offer. He was only the Crown Prince then.
Perhaps I&#8217;ll pop in one day just to ask him impertinently: “So, what does a King actually do?”
Royal visits are a big deal in Africa, whether lions to a waterhole or a crowned head of Europe to the southern tip. This particular tale of royalty visiting South Africa starts, strangely enough, in the snows of Davos at a lunch on obsession.
‘Is obsession always a good thing, or can it be bad’ was the title of a lunchtime session at the World Economic Forum at Davos, and Steffi Graf was one of seven scheduled speakers.
A tall, rather refined looking chap politely asked if he could occupy the chair next to mine.
“Of course, you needn&#8217;t ask, people can sit where they like,” I said.
“Ah, but you are important. Your name is writ large on the table, next to Ms Graf so I did need to ask.”
I chuckled. “Just the moderator of the session, not important at all,” I said.
“And who are you?” I asked, squinting at his large white card hanging from the participant ribbon everyone wears.
“Philippe,” he said.
“And what do you do, Philippe? I need to put you in a pigeonhole.”
“I&#8217;m a prince.”
“Oh? So what do you do?”
Slightly taken aback, he said, “I&#8217;m the Crown Prince of Belgium.”
“Yes, but what do you actually do? What is a Crown Prince&#8217;s job?”
“I help the government, I suppose. Actually I work pretty hard,” he reassured me, but now slightly aloof, I thought, realizing I’d been rather rude to royalty.
We were joined by the tennis wunderkind, lunch was underway, she spoke movingly of how she became obsessed with tennis, which brought her some happiness but also a lot of sadness as a child.
“When I was an unhappy girl because of fighting in the family, I would get over it by going out and hitting a ball against a wall,” said the tennis champion, world number one for 187 consecutive weeks.
“So when I made my first Wimbledon final, I told my coach I needed to hit against a wall. This is bad for your tennis, he said, and so he would not allow it. In fact there are no walls to hit against at Wimbledon anyway.”
“So I fired my coach the morning of my final and the officials found a wall against which I could hit a ball at a nearby school. I am not sure that kind of obsession is a good thing,” shy Steffi said with a smile.
She was world number one, for a total of 377 weeks and has 22 grand slam singles titles. “If I&#8217;d been world number one for just one week I&#8217;d have died a happy man,” I told the audience, and the Prince.
“By the way, I&#8217;m coming to South Africa in about six months,” he said.
“Great! Give me a call and you can come have lunch,” I said, and promptly forgot about it.
Seven months later, my rather bemused secretary said, “The Palace is on the line for you.”
A very plummy, terribly British voice said: “His Royal Highness Prince Philippe says you invited him to lunch and he’d like to take up the offer&#8230;”
“Certainly,” I spluttered.
“He is coming with an entourage, and asks if he may&#8230;”
“Of course, they are all welcome.”
“Good,” said plummy voice. “There are 124 of them.”
Astounded silence from me, laughter from him.
“No, he just wants to bring the five or six cabinet ministers traveling with him.”
And so, sometime in Africa, it came to pass that Prince Philippe dined at The Star with assorted ministers of state.
Soon after our function, Belgium’s government failed spectacularly, leaving the country without any government for months.
On July 21 last year, my prince became King Philippe. He did say, in thanking me after our modest repast, that if I ever found myself in Belgium I should visit him at the palace. I have never taken up the offer. He was only the Crown Prince then.
Perhaps I&#8217;ll pop in one day just to ask him impertinently: “So, what does a King actually do?”

‘So, What Does A King Actually Do?’

What else could brother and sister, both professional athletes, do other than compete?
“You mean a squash match between me and her? I am in. I have been waiting for this, I have a score to settle here,” says the little brother.
“Come let’s go warm up,” says the big sister.
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“You’re the one who needs a warm-up, I am warmed. I’ve come from a practise an hour ago,” says little brother.
This was South Africa’s women squash champion Siyoli Waters and her younger brother Luvuyiso Lusaseni, a professional rugby player with the Lions Rugby Union in Johannesburg. This keen encounter at the Wanderers squash courts, in Johannesburg, was a legacy of competitive teenage days, back in East London, in the Eastern Cape.
“I was in boarding schools most of my life, whenever I came home in December I trained with friends. When he was about 11 years old, he joined in and each year he would say ‘when you come back again my arms will be bigger than yours,’… My brother plays for the Lions now, I am so proud of him. He has a good head on his shoulders,” says Waters.
“We always woke up at about 4 o’clock and go for a nice jog. It was a very friendly and fun competition. It kind of motivated me. It was inspiring to see the work that she was putting in to get where she was and where she wanted to be. At that point, I didn’t have any idea what I wanted to play, but I think she ignited my love for sport,” says Lusaseni.
Thirty-one year-old Waters was a late bloomer. In 2009, she turned professional and was ranked 279 in the world. She is now ranked 34 and number one in South Africa. This is a spot she has held since June 2013. In August, she was in Johannesburg to defend her title at the South African National Championships.
“I have achieved what I achieved, but I would love teaching others to do it with me. I would love to bring others along. It’s very clear to me, if you are trailblazing you should have other people following the trail. You cannot be on your own; then something is wrong,” says Waters.
“When it comes to accolades and family gatherings, maybe I felt a little pressure to bring something to the table,” says Lusaseni.
Standing at 1.96 meters and 110 kilograms, the 26-year-old is a lock forward. His sister stands 1.7 meters tall. Lusaseni was in the South Africa Schools rugby team in 2006 and represented his country in the IRB World Championships in 2008. Playing for the Springboks is the next step.
The two are worlds apart when it comes to sport and physique. They are one when it comes to competition.
Was there ever sibling rivalry?
“I always think of Serena and Venus Williams. Whatever the world thinks about them, those are sisters, one would win and one would lose, but because they managed their sibling rivalry, not only were they both able to be world champions, by working together they were able to rise far above the rest of the competition. Their story is fantastic, I use it often to encourage young kids not to quit,”
says Waters.
<img loading="lazy" decoding="async" class="alignleft size-medium wp-image-3289" src="/wp-content/uploads/2017/04/IMG_0032-1024x683-300x200.jpg" alt="" width="300" height="200" />
In South Africa, professional squash is little known and sponsorship is scarce. It was only in 2013 that Waters secured a two-year sponsorship to pay her passage to international events. Before then, Waters juggled her career and coaching to pay her way in Cape Town.
“The fact that I am a champion today, I think its testimony that South African squash has been always open to transformation. As a teenager I felt like I was welcomed in squash community. That’s probably why I chose squash over tennis. In my time, multiracial schools produced a lot of black players but unfortunately they were lost in the university stages. It’s a money issue. You would rather be an accountant than a squash player.”
Waters had made peace with the fact that the sport she fell in love with will not make her a multimillionaire. But she enjoys the travel.
“I have been to every continent in the world except South America. It helped me discover that I have a love for languages though I have studied science. Squash tours are similar to tennis tours; they require monthly traveling around the world. I love playing in Malaysia; you get a sense that squash is a spectator sport. They have adopted squash as one of the major sports in the country,” she says.
Although Waters campaigned for the inclusion of squash in the Olympic Games in 2016, it remains unclear if she will ever play for her country on sport’s biggest stage. Waters missed out on the Commonwealth Games in Glasgow in August. Her disappointment was huge and she is still waiting for an explanation. So is FORBES AFRICA, repeated attempts to speak to Paene Galane, a spokesperson in the sports ministry, proved fruitless.
But this does not seem to bother Waters who represents players on the South African squash committee. Since age is catching up with her, she says her focus is on slotting into the world top 20 and going to the 2020 Olympics as a coach.
“It’s important sharing what I know, especially as one of the few black squash players in the country. I need to be a role model for my sport,” says Waters.
Waters also won provincial colors in hockey, tennis and athletics at junior level, but sport is not her only talent. She met her husband in church with a song on her lips.
“It was funny that it wasn’t sport that brought us together. I was impressed by her voice in the church band. But it was later that I discovered her sports talent,” says Dave Waters, her husband who runs the Africa Soccer Development academy in Cape Town and Johannesburg.
The big arms did not help Lusaseni to settle old scores on the squash court as he lost heavily. But few would take up the challenge of a return match on the rugby field.

Sister Squash vs Brother Lion

Winning the African Champions League title is the biggest milestone any African player can aim for. Nigerian midfielder Onyekachi Okonkwo has won it twice.
Okonkwo is proud of this accomplishment with his club Enyimba.
“I have always been determined to do well for my team. At training, I always work hard on my game to improve as a player. I did very well for Enyimba back home in Nigeria and winning the major trophies with the team was a great feeling,” he says.
The midfield maestro was instrumental in Enyimba’s path to Champions League glory which attracted attention from South African giants Orlando Pirates.
Okonkwo signed for the Buccaneers in the 2004 season and had a successful stint in the lucrative Premier Soccer League (PSL). His high work rate and style of play made him a crowd favorite in South Africa.
“When I came to Orlando Pirates, I was aware that I was joining a big team and a lot was expected from me.”
Although they had high expectations, the passionate fans spurred Okonkwo on.
“It was very encouraging for me while playing in front of those Pirates supporters who were always cheering the team. They were behind us wherever we played and that gave us extra motivation.”
After being a star in the famous black and white colors for two seasons, Tico, as he is affectionately known, went overseas to join FC Zurich in Switzerland. After two seasons in Europe, he left to play for Al Kharitiyath in Qatar and feels that playing overseas helped him grow as a player.
“Even though I played in different countries and experienced different situations, I was very focused. I dealt well with the different circumstances that I was going through and managed to perform well for the team.”
Pirates were aware that Okonkwo was still a valuable player and enticed him back to the club in 2012. It was a move that was easy for the player.
“Coming back to South Africa and rejoining Pirates was good for me because the standard of soccer in the PSL is good. The league is professionally run and there are fine soccer facilities.”
“It feels good when people recognize that I did well for the team whenever I got the opportunity to play for Pirates,” he says.
Okonkwo signed for Mpumalanga Black Aces last season, helping the team qualify for the MTN8, a tournament that features the top eight teams in the PSL. He is determined to reward the club’s supporters by winning a major trophy this season. Aces have signed other top players which leaves Okonkwo confident that they will have an even better season.
“I am a very ambitious person and my aim is to win one of the trophies with Aces this season,” he says.
With his successful track record, it would take a brave man to bet against him.

African, Football, Cup Up Aces’ Sleeve

South Africa is the sleeping giant of African football. The national side has regressed since they won the Africa Cup of Nations in 1996 and 21 coaching changes since that triumph is a sign of the team’s underachievement.
The latest coach to step up to the plate and try steer the country back to the top tier is Shakes Mashaba. When he was announced as Gordon Igesund’s successor, fans celebrated the appointment. They believe he is the right man for the high-pressure job due to his previous stints with Bafana Bafana and his impressive record with the national junior teams.
Mashaba is pleased to be sitting at the top table again and he promises nothing but success. Though aware of the challenges he is facing, he is confident he will deliver good results.
“I feel honored that I have been appointed as Bafana Bafana coach again. I am very thankful to the [South African Football Association] for the confidence that they have showed in me by giving me this job. Everyone loves a winner and I know that our fans want to see Bafana Bafana doing well,” says Mashaba.
His confidence is not misplaced. He believes he has everything at his disposal to succeed.
“We have talent in South Africa and we have so many top quality players that I feel they can do a good job for our national team. I know the strength of our players and what they are capable of. I am confident that we will play good football and the people will enjoy it. We will improve.”
South Africans are equally optimistic because of Mashaba’s ability to identify raw talent and his willingness to give young players an opportunity. While in charge of Amajita, the South African Under-20 team, they were crowned Cosafa champions and they recently qualified for the African Youth Championship.
Mashaba is also involved with the Nedbank Ke Yona team, a development side that played against South Africa’s football giants Kaizer Chiefs and Orlando Pirates. He insists that development projects like this will be a priority for him as it will ultimately benefit Bafana Bafana.
“It is good when we identify talent at an early age. We give the youngsters the necessary coaching while they are still young so that they can develop in good structures and end up becoming shining stars for Bafana Bafana,” he says.
“I enjoy working with the youngsters, just look at our success with the Under-20s. I feel that there is a bright future for our players in the Under-20 squad and I have confidence that they will achieve a lot wherever they compete.”
Finding the players that make up the Ke Yona team wasn’t always easy but the hard work is staring to pay off.
“I am very impressed with the progress of the program. We have a good vision when we go deep in some rural parts of the country and find talented players who are determined to have an impact in football. It was very encouraging to see the youngsters giving their best against the two big professional teams. I feel that it will be good for football when some of those youngsters get an opportunity to play in some of the Premier Soccer League teams because they have tremendous potential,” he says.
When Mashaba announced his team selection for the African Cup of Nations qualifier against Sudan, his first match in charge of South Africa, he chose players on merit rather than reputation. His players responded to the confidence Mashaba placed in them and produced some exciting attacking football in a 3-0 win away from home.
“We follow the players and look at how they are performing at their different clubs. All the players that we select we feel that they can add the value in the Bafana Bafana squad,” he says.
“I was expecting a tough game from Sudan considering the conditions that we were facing playing away from home. I am happy that our players responded well and we managed to score three good goals.”
Mashaba was determined to keep that positive run going when South Africa hosted their biggest rivals, Nigeria, in a crucial match in Cape Town. The much anticipated clash against the reigning African champions ended in a goalless draw despite South Africa dominating the game. South Africa’s midfield controlled the game but the perennial problem of wastefulness in front of goal let them down.
“We don’t have a good record against Nigeria so we knew very well that it was going to be a highly competitive game. We played well and we created so many scoring opportunities, it was just a pity that we did not score,” says a rueful Mashaba.
“The players gave their best.”
Despite his stature in African football and the promising start he has made in his tenure, Mashaba is reluctant to take any praise that is thrown his way. Instead, he credits his assistant coaches, Owen Da Gama and Thabo Senong.
“I have a strong technical team. The coaches that I work with at Bafana Bafana are very committed. We work well together as a team and make decisions that will help the team get good results,” he says.
Mashaba is modest and hard working. He is also a proud South African and needs the country’s full support so he can get the most out of a team that for so long has flattered to deceive. Let’s hope he will be given a fair chance as he deserves to lead his country at the next World Cup.

Shaking A Sleeping Giant

The economic and political transformation of a country directly correlates with the education level of its demographics. With national priorities like health care, infrastructure, housing etc, it’s impossible for countries to manage supporting the entire value chain of education, from primary to secondary to vocational and tertiary. Add infrastructure and skills-development to the need for integrated research-based learning synonymous with quality education and what you have is a glaring resource gap.
This dilemma is consistent across most countries in the world, particularly those with low GDP per capita. Rather than concerted efforts, governments have spread themselves thin trying to do everything with limited resources. This has unfortunately resulted in mismanagement, no accountability, corruption and disillusionment. The intangible destruction of long-term wealth creation is in excess of the annual financial allocation as there is a widening gap between skills needed and the output from the efforts.
A growing question therefore is: where does a government allocate its resources and how does it integrate private sector investments? The answer is complex and not a one-size-fits-all solution.
During my travels in Africa over the last ten years, I have interacted with heads of state, ministers of education, regulators, and educational faculty. The maze of bureaucracy, legislation and processes created using historic models of education is shocking. It’s small wonder no one is willing to grab the bull by its horns and bring changes to help Africa leapfrog into the future rather than dwell in the past.
I will reflect on the tertiary sector. Looking at Africa, South Africa excluded, one sees a lack of good quality universities. It’s no surprise to see some 400,000 students going abroad for post-secondary programs annually, with nearly 300,000 originating from sub-Saharan Africa. With continuing growth of populations, economic output, and school and post-secondary enrolment rates, it’s expected one in five outbound mobile students will originate from Africa within the next 20 years.
It’s evident the business models of universities globally factor international students as a revenue source. These students pay higher fees. The irony is poor African countries are in many ways subsidizing the education of students of developed countries. The most unfortunate impact of this dichotomy is less than half the students return to the continent to add any value to the country that not only paid for their education but also subsidized their peers and for their pains, suffer a
brain drain.
Let’s put this in the context of the future. United Nations’ world population projections see it increasing to 9.6 billion by 2050, up by 2.4 billion from the current population. More than 50% of this growth will come from Africa (source: The Size of it, The Economist; June 18, 2013). Africa’s population will increase from about 10% of the world’s population to over 20% by 2050. It will undoubtedly have the youngest population on the planet and if transformation in the education sector is not made on a war-footing, the outcome is going to be catastrophic.
To cater to the population and given the overflow in current institutions, there is need to establish between 450 to 500 colleges and universities in Africa over the next 10 years. This growth needs investments in billions of dollars that governments clearly do not have. Firstly, legislation needs to be amended for foreign universities to establish on the continent. This is just one step to build capacity.
There are multifold advantages of bringing quality education brands to the continent. Firstly, these institutions are highly-ranked and bring with them best practices, systems, faculty, research capacity and world-class curriculum. The model should entail that the quality of academic delivery and entry requirements on the African campus should be the same as the home campus. It should allow students to transfer freely between various campuses for a global experience. The accreditations of these institutions should be based on degrees being offered by the home campus.
Secondly, there will be a slowdown of students going abroad focused mainly towards specialized training and not routine undergraduate or post-graduate courses. This will help retain skills in the region and conserve the foreign exchange drain. Thirdly, over time, the African branches of foreign universities will attract global students. Given the lower costs, excellent weather and natural beauty of Africa, there is no reason why education cannot become part of the continent’s export ecosystem. This will become increasingly important as universities in developed countries find it difficult to invest in new facilities owing to costs.
Another step governments must institute immediately is an offset program. All large defence, infrastructure, energy, mining and other contracts given to international or local companies should require a contribution towards setting up an international university in the country either through direct investment or through a centralized education fund. Similarly, all students sent to foreign universities through state funding must require the beneficiary university to offer some of their programs.
The other vital need is innovation. Education is no longer going to be about land and building. Consumption patterns of education are changing and with technology and broadband infrastructure development will emerge the opportunity for African states to bring about the latest delivery platforms. Changes from innovations are already being implemented by well-established universities in developed countries. Partnerships with them will help shorten the learning curve.
These illustrations demonstrate the need for the education ecosystem in Africa to be catalyzed. This can only happen through proactive steps for dynamic reforms from our leaders.
&nbsp;
&#8211; Rakesh Wahi is Vice-Chairman and
Co-founder of ABN Group.

HIGHER EDUCATION  IN AFRICA  AND THE RESOURCE GAP

It is so easy to lose sight of the true meaning of Christmas. What can you do this year that epitomizes the true spirit of Christmas?
A definition of a philanthropist is someone who makes charitable donations intended to increase human well-being. This could include giving your time, money, or reputation to charitable causes. By giving back to your community or missionary organizations you give yourself the opportunity, and the privilege, of making a positive impact on other people’s lives. Material possessions will ultimately lose their shine, but through philanthropy, one can make an impact and shape or even save lives.
Is there a particular cause that you have considered supporting? This might be a good time to crystallize your strategy for this. Review your finances to decide how much you can afford to give. Will it be a one-off donation or is it something you can continue to commit to year on year. Narrow your choices down to a few charities or initiatives that you can identify with and do some research on them to ensure that their ethos and mission aligns with your core values; then choose one or two to support. Follow up to see the impact your action is having.
While we all love to see the excitement on children’s faces on Christmas morning as they open their presents, try to emphasize the non-material aspects of the season, such as family, fellowship and thoughtfulness. It is not enough to just tell them to be charitable and kind, our own actions in supporting others or changing lives will speak louder than anything we can say. We must guide them through a program of action so that it becomes ingrained in their psyche.
The high cost of living and unemployment means that many people face a dreary holiday season and cannot afford much this Christmas. If you are fortunate enough to have an overflowing basket or trolley, why not shop for another family that is facing difficult times and then have it delivered to their doorstep.
There are so many people in need of the simple things that so many of us may take for granted. Get together with a few friends, put some money together and take some gifts to the elderly who have found themselves in retirement homes. Cheer them up; the gift of happiness and good stimulating company for an elderly person, who might be lonely during the holiday season, would make a huge difference.
Do you often reminisce and complain about how things used to be at your old school and how standards have now fallen? Why not do something about it? With an endowed gift you can provide permanent support for the educational institution. Your contributions will be invested and each year a distribution made to fund the program or area that matches your particular interest. Once it is officially established, you or anyone else may continue to add to the fund at any time.
Gifts do not only have to be of a financial nature. There are several other ways to give meaningfully. The possibilities of giving of your time, experience, talent and intellect are endless and by sharing your knowledge with others you can add sustained value to your community.
As we get caught up in the whirlwind of festivity, socializing and shopping, it is little wonder that we often forget the true meaning of Christmas. How can you make a difference? If you haven’t been doing much for others before now, this is a good time to start. As you prepare for Christmas, remember to be a blessing to others. Merry Christmas!
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Tag: November 2014

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