Izimbali Zesizwe

Izimbali Zesizwe is a grassroots non-governmental organisation (NGO) in an under-resourced community (often called “townships,” which was the name used to describe scattered communities outside of main cities that black South Africans were forced into during Apartheid). Izimbali Zesizwe is isiZulu for “Flowers of the Nation” and refers to the children that benefit from the NGO’s activities.

A road near Sthe's place in Imbali (a section of Edendale township)
on the outskirts of Pietermaritzburg, South Africa

In 2011 I began working with people from communities around the city of Pietermaritzburg for my PhD research, which looks at outcomes of TB preventive medication among people living with HIV. My introduction into these communities was through my research assistant, Ms. Sithembile (Sthe) Ndlovu, who was recommended to me by a research group from Harvard that works in the region. Sthe is the founder and head of Izimbali Zesizwe, which at the time she ran voluntarily out of her home, though she herself was unemployed and living in poverty. Since then, Sthe has been able to tap into the resources of the Stephen Lewis Foundation (a Canadian charity run by Stephen Lewis, journalist and former UN Special Envoy for HIV and AIDS in Africa. The Stephen Lewis Foundation by the way runs with the lowest cost-overhead of any Canadian charity, preferring to put its dollars in the hands of the people it serves rather than sending Canadians overseas to do the work).

Sthe at Izimbali Zesizwe's modest office in her home (the Mac
laptop was provided to her through funding for my research project).

Currently the Stephen Lewis Foundation funds her NGO for eight months per year and the rest is up to her and her league of volunteers to struggle to fund. I am running this small-scale campaign to help bridge that four-month gap.

I call the NGO “grassroots” because it is run by the community for the community. Sthe still works out of her home, but has been able to build a small home office and a larger kitchen where volunteers prepare meals for orphans and vulnerable children three times a week. When volunteers are unavailable, Sthe and her daughters prepare the meals themselves. Sthe and her daughters also shop routinely for the food provided by external funding. When the NGO has no money, the kids are turned away at her gate.

Local children at Sthe's front gate enjoying a healthy meal provided by Izimbali Zesizwe

Sthe also coordinates donations from local bakeries and small-scale grocers that provide food that is near its expiry date. One day a week, vulnerable community members line up at the community centre where Sthe and her volunteers hand out parcels of these goods until they run out.

Additionally, Sthe managed to get permission from the local ward counsellor to build a community garden on a parcel of overgrown land. She and her volunteers regularly plant and tend to the vegetables that are then used as part of the child feeding programme or sold at low cost in the community to help fund the purchase of food for meals or food parcels.

The community garden maintained by Izimbali Zesizwe.

Sthe also provides a number of other services to the community when she has the chance. She provides informal counselling out of her home when members of the community need social or psychological support, she has coordinated art classes and Sunday school out of her garage to help educate and support orphans and vulnerable children, and each year she holds a Christmas party for the children, complete with a meal, a movie, and donated gifts.

An art class for local kids run out of Sthe's garage
(photo by Rachel Regina)

Izimbali Zesizwe does not have a fancy website or a team of staff to send out donation mailers. Sthe does not even have internet or a landline in her home because the infrastructure in the township is too shoddy and the network coverage is hit and miss. It is a very small-scale operation, but it is certainly incredible what she can do with so little.

I had a chance to help serve a meal organised by
Izimbali Zesizwe at KwaPata School in Edendale in 2011

When I met Sthe, I didn’t have funding for my thesis research and could only pay her a few dollars here and there, with a hope that we would eventually find external support for my research. Thankfully we did, and Sthe enjoys a higher standard of living, but this is only until my research draws to a close. Nonetheless, she was eager to help voluntarily in the beginning simply because of the impact the research might have on fighting disease in her community. Sthe is honestly an unsung hero, and that is why I am doing my best to raise as much as I can through the live below the line challenge. Even though the funds are deposited directly to me, every cent will go to Izimbali Zesizwe to support projects that help the poorest of the poor here in South Africa.

Sthe and I at a ceremony in 2014 as part of my research

Just what is samp?

Some of you may be wondering what the heck I ate all week to survive below the line. Samp is a corn product made from the inners of the corn kernels that have been stamped out. Samp is not as fine as maize meal, which has more of a flour-like consistency and is typically used in South Africa to make porridge, thicker pap, or gritty phuthu. Samp is prepared by soaking the kernels overnight and then bringing them to a boil. In South Africa, samp is often combined with beans and served as a filler along with vegetables or a meat stew. Miriam and I lived off of all kinds of samp and bean concoctions during our five days below the line, some of which are pictured below.

Dry samp before it has been soaked or boiled.

Our first pot of samp and beans that served as our lunch and dinner for half the week.

Dinner day 1: samp and beans cooked up with sliced smokey. Served with boiled cabbage and beats as a side.

Dinner on day two: I tried to mix things up by adding tomato and onion to my samp and beans

On day 5 I traded a bit of samp, bean, and beat mixture for a bit of phuthu,
a grainy filler made from maize meal and water, at Sthe's house.

Day five - bringing it full circle

Meet Mr. Xaba. He lives daily below the line.

My research, if you're not aware, is collecting stories about people and their experiences with TB, HIV, and a medication that prevents people with HIV from getting TB. This means I travel at least once a week to one of the beautiful communities in the Edendale Hospital catchment area to talk with people that live daily below the line. 

Yesterday, the last day of my 5-day challenge, was one of my days "in the field" (Miriam tells kids at school that I'm "in a field"). Sthe (the research assistant on my project and also the CEO of Izimbali Zesizwe) travelled with me to the ward office in a community near Maritzburg to meet the community care giver (CCG) that had arranged yesterday's interviews for us. She wasn't there. She also wasn't at her home next to the ward office. Instead we met Mr. Xaba pictured above. Mr Xaba was sitting patiently on a log outside the gates to the ward office (as seen below). We asked him if he was also waiting for Nonhlahla, our CCG contact. "No," he said, "I came from the clinic this morning because they told me that some days they give out food parcels at the ward office." No one was at the ward office because there was a meeting they were attending at city hall. That didn't deter Mr. Xaba. He hoped someone would return and possibly give him a food parcel. He has tuberculosis. Many of you (even South African friends) may not know exactly what TB is, nor know of someone who's had it. That's because TB goes hand in hand with poverty. It is a disease spread through cough, and if transmitted may stay in a healthy host's body for their whole life without being discovered or becoming active. This is called latent TB infection, and about a third of the world's population has it. If you are well-nourished, live in housing with adequate ventilation and less than one occupant per room, if you have potable water available from your tap, and at least one toilet in your house, your odds of getting latent TB infection are very slim. Your chances of that TB activating to disease are next to nil. 

If on the other hand you have no regular job, live in dilapidated and crowded housing, squish next to people coughing in a minibus when you need to travel long distances, and struggle to access food... your chances of not only acquiring latent TB infection, but it activating to a contagious cough and deadly disease are pretty darn high. If you have HIV (which is transmitted a lot more regularly in similar circumstances not because of ignorance or polygamy, but because of poor general health and endemic infectious diseases like bilharzia that thrive in these conditions and make you a heck of a lot more likely to become infected), your body is 10 times as likely to activate that latent TB infection living inside of you.

The good news is that TB is treatable and can be accessed for free in nearly every part of the world. This doesn't make it an easy process. The four drugs to treat TB must be taken for at least 6 months, and sometimes for years. They are hard on the body and can really upset your digestive system if not taken with food. Food. Simple access to food at least once a day. Something not available to so many millions of people in South Africa. That is why Mr. Xaba sat here patiently waiting for a donated hamper. He is old and not employable, especially with his ailing health because of active TB (which often leads to rapid weight loss, coughing fits, prolonged fever, and night sweats). Little did he know that the food hampers are only dispersed on Thursdays (yesterday was Friday).

As part of my project, we provide food and a R50 ($5) stipend to those who participate in interviews about their experiences. Mr. Xaba wasn't eligible for an interview, but we did have two packages of chicken and chips ready to give to other interviewees. Because Sthe works with local municipalities to provide food packages, she knew he had missed his opportunity for this week. We gave him the two parcels (a later interviewee said it was ok because she would have done the same... we came back later with food for her and her family), and offered him the meagre stipend. He was incredibly grateful (recall that the same amount - R50 - fed me for 5 days). 

These are decisions I make every day working and being welcomed into these communities. I can't help everyone, but Sthe's NGO does make a big difference to many of them. I urge you to consider donating to Izimbali Zesizwe, the beneficiary of my challenge this year. 

Mr. Xaba sat here patiently for hours in
hopes of accessing a food parcel

Day Four: Time to face myself

Today was not an easy day. For Miriam or for me. If the theme for day three was forgetting (Miriam forgot her lunch, Monwa forgot to eat breakfast before leaving home, and I forgot to take my daily medication), the theme for day four is emotion. It's been an emotional roller coaster of a day.

The process for me is, as in year's past, a reflective one. It's a chance to slow down and not take things for granted. Even things that I believe deep down can sometimes be overlooked when I live life in a hurry. For example, poorer people tend to walk long distances in South Africa and there are often people walking on the sides of busy streets. They often walk slow and steady up and down the hills of Durban. At times I think if some of them just walked faster they could use it as a way to get into good shape and build muscle. When I reflect on it I know that walking such long distances requires using more energy and those who walk to their work or schools must wake up earlier and end their days later than others. When I am living off of $1 a day, I am reminded how much less energy we have when we don't have access to quality, nutritious food. Most people walking don't have enough stored energy to make a workout of it; they're walking for necessity.

Living below the line forces me to slow things down because my energy is low, but also because we base so many activities around food. We go to the grocery store or have drinks with colleagues after work. We meet up with friends for a coffee or a bite to eat. Living below the line means a lot of time at home to think. And the thinking is not just about food. It's about everything in my life and what I value. Today was about getting down to my core: what is it that I want in this world, and am I living in my truth?

It may sound heavy, and heavy it is. When food is always available at our finger tips, we tend to over-indulge. But gluttony doesn't end with food. We fill our days with commitments and activities, lull our brains with TV and internet. I shop for clothes in excess to fill some sort of void. I run away from difficult issues by focussing on work or school or some other means of feeling "on top" or "in control." But at the heart of it, I don't want "things." I don't want the fanciest house or the prestigious appointment. I don't need my Dad for a down payment or for getting me out of a jam. I want real, authentic relationships. I want my family near to me. The one I came from and the one I am building. Even if that closeness isn't always in space. I want to be able to give my dad back all that he has sacrificed for me. I want to show my brothers how much they shaped me and helped me become who I am. I want to give my foster daughter the love and support that she needs. I want to be a partner that gives as much support as she receives. I want to savour the moments in life with family, friends and my pets. I don't want to be rushed. I don't want to be spread thin. I want to always be the me I am after an hour of yoga or a good long run. The woman I am after I submit an assignment that I'm proud of. Someone who is collected, reflective, and able to give the time that I have to things that are worthwhile.

I know it's impossible to always be aware and conscious and patient, but I appreciate this reminder. To those who read this, I do hope you consider trying this challenge one day, even if it's not for charity. In the end it encourages you to be charitable to those around you, and really honest with yourself.

Day Three and we're still going strong.

Today was... better. I actually found the strength to get up and go about my day. I felt the hunger pangs, but being out of the house helped prevent me from obsessing about food so much. I have been having totally strange cravings though. I'm no longer craving the nicer things in life, like a glass of red wine or a piece of chocolate. Last night I just couldn't stop thinking about a boiled egg. How I wanted one! And after I dropped off Miriam at school, the thought of a peanut butter sandwich jumped into my head. I don't think I've had one in a year, but I just wanted a fresh piece of bread smothered in peanut butter.

Miriam almost packed it in yesterday. She simply said, "I'm too young for this. Maybe in a few years, but this is just too much!" She didn't go to gym with me before dinner last night because she was feeling weak, so while I was out I picked up a kitkat bar that I thought I could break into pieces and leave tucked away for her in case she really couldn't manage, but when I returned home she was already asleep. I figured she would call it quits in the morning, but just in case I took a few scoops out of my lunch and put it in hers and added a half an apple (part of our food budget) in her lunchbox to encourage her to hold on. In fact, she forgot her entire lunch at home in the microwave today. When I realised it I heated it up and went to meet her after class before she had zumba. I figured she'd just pick up something at the tuckshop, but in case she didn't I didn't want her sitting out on zumba and starving while she waited for me. When she saw me there she popped into the car to find out why I'd come so early. I took out her lunchbox and she was thrilled. I asked what she'd eaten and she said "nothing, we're fasting for charity." She ate up her food and went to zumba and gave it her all.

This evening I told her about the kitkat. She didn't even ask me for it. I'm really proud that she's made it this far. We're over half way through, and I know we'll see it to the end.

"Am I allowed to have ice cubes in my water?"

It's the start of day two and already questions are coming up from my family who are participating... but also questions from colleagues and friends. If it's in the house already, can't I use it? But what if I buy you a coffee? Am I allowed to have ice in my water?

At the end of the day, the challenge is to live off of R50 for five days, full stop. That means if it's in the house and wasn't part of the R50... it's a no go. We had to purchase all of the food we will be using at the outset. For me, it is a nicer assortment than last year because Miriam and I had R100 between the two of us. This meant much more assortment. We even bought a small package of over-processed Russians that was on promo for R16,99. For my boyfriend Monwa, who is doing this on his own in Cape Town, and friend Lusanda, who is struggling in PMB, the menu was not quite so luxurious. But that's the point. We struggle. We struggle like so many millions who live in South Africa at this very moment. I see it when I visit interview participants in their homes. I see it when Miriam and I visit her biological mother. I see it on Wednesdays when a local man and his son go "shopping" along our street because it's garbage day.

When Monwa mentioned last night that friends had offered to give him coffee, I recalled the same happening to me in my last two challenges. We talked about why accepting the coffee would not be in the spirit of the challenge. Friends protest that if you went to visit someone, even if you were poor, you would be offered coffee or tea. But Monwa shared his insightful response. "Would you buy your maid a coffee?" For my Canadian followers, it is common amongst the middle and upper classes to have a maid that lives in or comes daily to clean the house and perhaps help with the children. Although this creates jobs, the average maid receives R100/day (about $10). This may seem lucrative when considering the R10/day challenge, but let's not forget that she has children to feed and clothe, school fees (even public schools generally have a R750 per year charge plus the cost of uniforms, school supplies, and any other activities), transport to pay (many maids walk several km to work and back to avoid minibus fares of up to R20 each way), there may be rent to pay if she is not living with others, gas bills, water bills, and remember she's only paid to work five days of the week (if she's full-time and does not miss a day due to illness of herself or a child). So yes, most maids are living below the line. Many families do provide food for the maid during work hours, but not for evenings, weekends, and family members. And I dare say, no one brings home a latte because it worries them how few comforts she has.

I think there's an even more appropriate comparison. Would you bring your gardener a coffee? Many wealthy homes also have part or full-time male "gardeners" who look after the yard and the day-to-day house maintenance. Gardeners also receive about R100 per day. They are rarely offered lifts on the road by passersby because there are many fears around giving a ride to an unknown man. If he's lucky he may get to ride on the back of a pick-up truck. Because the men do not work in the house, often they will not be offered food during their shift. Many can be seen carrying a few slices of white bread that they've purchased from hawkers on the side of the road. If it's a hot day, maybe they'll splurge on a coke. I think that many men in South Africa living below the line have it very difficult, as they also have to bare the burden of stereotypes about dangerous black men. They have difficulty finding employment and enjoy even fewer moments of kindness from strangers compared to women.

If you want to buy me a coffee or lunch today, tomorrow, or at any time during my challenge, I will ask you instead to buy something nice for a stranger on the street or the man that tends to your lawn. I also hope that you will consider donating that coffee money to Izimbali Zesizwe to help continue a community-based NGO which feeds dozens of children and families every week.

...and yes. I allowed Miriam the ice in her water. Mine will be luke warm.

How this year is different

This is my third year participating in the Live Below the Line challenge. This year is different for two reasons. First, I am not doing this alone. My boyfriend and daughter have decided to join me, as has a good friend of ours. Secondly, the beneficiary of the donations garnered from our participation this year is a South African NGO, and one that is particularly close to my heart. Izimbali Zesizwe is a grassroots NGO that provides meals to orphans and vulnerable children three times a week, distributes food parcels to families in need, and coordinates a community garden in Imbali, Edendale. It was created by my dear colleague and friend, Ms. Sithembile Ndlovu. All money donated will go directly to the purchase of food for people who currently live in extreme poverty. 

Groceries for Miriam and I for the next five days.