How the makeshift internet café we opened up in Mpumalanga became a gift that keeps on giving

As we usher into the festive season, I could not help but briefly reflect on the many simple things that, as a boy growing up in a rural village, reminded me that Christmas was near. Relatives from near and far would gather – often at a different family members’ house year on year and of course, there would really be no Christmas without the suspense of what kind of Christmas outfit one would be getting on that particular year.

Coming from an entrepreneurial family, I spent most of my teenage years manning the shopfloor of the local shops my family operated. This time of year, signalled a time where the hard-earned discipline of many would pay off in the form of clearing off the lay-byes they had committed to in the beginning of the year and for my Mom and Dad it was time for us to work hard to make enough money to pay School fees in January.

In my context, things like Christmas clothes were an important feature of the festive season because for some, poverty was so visible that people required visible evidence of hope and happiness – much of which would be seen through fresh-from-the-packet Christmas clothes worn by children from all walks of life. For some, this would be the very first time they would have the feeling of new clothes.

As we approach Christmas in 2020, it saddens me that for many it’s likely to be their worst ever. This is the first time in many decades that our economy will decline by over 7%, we have lost over 2 million jobs and even many of those still employed have had to take salary cuts (with no bonus for most this year). We’ve seen a drastic reduction in spending capacity, evidenced by the lukewarm Black Friday sales of November. Many will not have a plan for feasting and entertaining over this festive period, and perhaps many more  will be stressed about their ability to afford school fees in January.

On the topic of schools and giving, my sister is an educator to matriculants in our home village in Mpumalanga. I remember visiting the village in the early stages of our national lockdown, as I had essential services permit. I found my sister frustrated sitting at home, with no hint of productivity. Having then asked her why she wasn’t teaching, I’ll never forget how her answer made me feel. She noted, with much unease, that most of her learners had no access to the internet as they couldn’t afford data and even for the free or zero rated educational sites, over 60% in the area did not have connectivity devices like Smartphones or computers.

It then struck me that  what I thought was the new norm - my kids learning remotely daily at home on their tablets and computers with reliable fibre connection through platforms like Google classroom and Zoom,  was just a pipeline dream for the many kids in my home village. Being a product of this very same public schooling,  I was saddened that for months kids were just sitting at home  doing nothing. 

I couldn’t just sit and watch, moments like these are no longer a coincidence but an opportunity to have the honour to bless other people with your resources. For me, this moment also made me realise that nothing is ever in vain – after all, I couldn’t have spent years championing digital transformation only to walk away from an opportunity to put into practise the evidence of what digital inclusion could do in a society. And so, the only piece to the solution (one I had in my hands) was in the form of the vacant warehousing space from our family business in the same village.  I then reached out to my professional network for donations of laptops and connectivity services. With the help of friends and ex colleagues from Mobicel, Digital Planet  and Vodacom, the space became a fully-kitted internet café with 10 laptops and unlimited data connection for the free access of learners in the area for educational purposes within 14 days of my conversation with my sister. All done and spaced out for social distancing and all the COVID19 protocols, and a full-time IT facilitator to help the kids. We were surprised that we thought the kids only needed device access and connectivity to work independently but we found that many had never used a computer, so we needed to start from scratch and teach the basics. 

We opened on the 15th of July this year and have had at least 50 learners coming in to access the facility every day. 

This year has been a year of going about getting things done in the midst of imperfect circumstances. As you can see, the walls are not decorated and there’s currently nothing in the interior that inspires confidence. This particular initiative is one for the books for me – it reminds me that perhaps sometimes we just have to get started with whatever we have and that the full picture more than often falls into place. 

Many children may not feel the touch of a fresh Christmas outfit this year, but they can certainly feel the tangible intentions of people – like you and me – to make life better in whichever way possible. In welcoming a new year, no matter the imperfections it may come with, I pledge to engage with passion, compassion and gratitude, giving where we can through the Foundation (Saseka Foundation) my wife Mosima, our boys and I established a few years ago.

How are you tapping into your purpose (and network) to help others this festive season and beyond?