Amid South Africa’s escalating housing crisis, one mother fights through the chaos to build a home for her family.
Right before night spills into day, the valleys of Eldorado Park are bathed in shadows of deep purple. Nestled in the grassy plains stands a makeshift house no larger than six paces in length. Almost a year into its existence, the shelter stands tall as one of the first built in the informal settlement of Actionville. Steadily, life unwinds within the corrugated iron and rusted zinc walls of this little matchbox.
In the inky black darkness, Elizabeth Percent (41) peels back the covers and rises before the sun to make breakfast for her children. She walks to the gas-stove, guided by the weak glow of her phone flashlight. Tick-tick-tick. A tiny blue flame erupts from the cylinder with a hiss. Methodically, Elizabeth sets her pot on the metal stand and begins slicing bread.
Elizabeth seated on the bed with her children. Photo: Hannah Brown.
“We had to make fires in the beginning,” Elizabeth says with a distant gleam in her eye. “Everything was on a fire. Your home smelled like a fire even.” She pans her gaze to her children scattered around on the bed, her eyes lowered. “I now cook on a gas-stove. If it was me 3 years ago, I would’ve never done gas.”
Her four children stir in the dark from the commotion. Willow (3), her granddaughter whom she was babysitting, remains within the warm nest of blankets, unwilling to budge. Spurred by their mother’s commands, each child begins performing their morning rituals like clockwork under the dim glow of a battery-powered lamp.
Cleotus (10) is lacing up his shoes. Anastacia (9) is pulling her hair into elastics. Tarryn (5) and Willow sit huddled together under the covers, squealing as big sister Hayley (16) comes to wipe their grinning faces with a cloth.
The shelter where Elizabeth and her children reside. Photo: Jamie Ho.
As the sun peeks over the valley into the lace-adorned windows, a soft golden light trails up the corrugated walls, illuminating the cheery faces huddled on the bed. Elizabeth carries steaming bowls of porridge to them. Excited squeals are silenced by the hasty shovelling of spoons into hungry mouths.
At the far end of the room is an old sink bowl, disembodied from any pipes, where dishes pile high, but no water trickles from the spout. Instead, Elizabeth carries water back and forth from the JoJo tanks installed around the settlement, storing them in containers under the table. She empties one into the pot, which she sets on the stove.
“We never used to have JoJo tanks,” she explains, “The surrounding community used to assist us with water.”
A JoJo tank installed along the path in Actionville. Photo: Jamie Ho.
However, despite having access to the tanks, the community still faces many problems with sanitation, especially since there is no running water for toilets. “We have manholes,” Elizabeth says, “We dig a hole and we use the bucket system. Or you do it in the house, or if you’re comfortable, in a small area outside and then you go and throw it away and wash your bucket.” This process, however, fills her with dread as it exposes her children to unsafe, unhygienic conditions.
Now the warm sunlight has filled every crevice of the shack and has ignited a burst of energy in the children. They begin soaring onto the bed, charging out of a home too small to contain their joy. Bursting out of the door, the cold morning wind pools over their tender faces as they sprint around the four corners of their fenced-off yard.
“I feel like a superintendent sometimes,” Elizabeth says with a slight chuckle. “Everything needs to be in order. If each one stays in their lane and just follows through on what [their] responsibility is, it’s easier.” She casts a stern glance at Tarryn and Willow, who are fighting over a mic.
Hayley pulls open the low metal gate, and the children spill out from the yard into the copper-red plains. Elizabeth chides each one to make a line, and, like magnets, her children form a chain-link of hands.
Down the open dusty road, they strut like soldiers. The chants of an army of children carry through the air.
“We walk straight. We walk straight. If you don’t move out the way, we will kick you in the face,” they sing, lifting their legs up high to kick the air in front of them.
“This used to be an open field,” Elizabeth states, gesturing towards the settlements dispersed around the grassy plains.
Informal dwellings scattered across the grassy plains. Photo: Jamie Ho.
Actionville is one of thousands of informal settlements that have sprouted across the country born out of a desperate, decades-long housing backlog that has left millions waiting on government waiting lists.
A year ago, during the early days of Actionville, residents faced constant pushback from law enforcement, with Elizabeth’s home under threat of being bulldozed. To comply with their demands, she chose to dismantle the shelter herself.
“If they do get it right, it’s a demolish,” Elizabeth explains, “They use their bulldozer and they drive over your home so it’s damaging everything that’s in there, and this was my home. It’s been my home for the longest time.”
Eviction threats are a recurring reality for informal dwellers. Time and again, police have raided communities to tear down newly erected shacks, only to meet fierce resistance from residents determined to protect their homes.
Under the current Prevention of Illegal Eviction (PIE) Act, authorities must secure a court order before demolishing homes. Proposed amendments would remove this requirement, making evictions far easier. While officials claim the changes target illegal land syndicates, housing rights advocates warn the loss of these legal protections will leave vulnerable families like Elizabeth’s with nowhere else to go.
“If they make this amendment, we could lose everything,” Elizabeth says solemnly.
Her grip remains firm on her children’s hands as they approach the school. As she hugs each one goodbye, she watches them depart, their chattering and giggles fading round the bend.
Elizabeth and her children walking to school. Photo: Jamie Ho.
FEATURED IMAGE: Elizabeth seated on the bed with her children. Photo: Hannah Brown.
As South Africa approaches a wave of teacher retirements, educators are feeling the impact of vacant teaching posts.
Its 09:00 on a Monday morning at Entandweni Primary School in Zondi, Soweto. Every desk has a learner seated behind it, writing down numbers as Zusiphe Nolusu stands in front of the class, explaining what improper fractions are. Some learners look puzzled but as Nolusu continues explaining, the moment of realisation fills the room as their faces light up with understanding.
Zusiphe Nolusu, a final year Bachelor of Education student from the University of Witwatersrand is not a stranger to standing in front of 30 learners, ready for a long day of teaching, marking class activities and sometimes having to deal with some uncooperative learners. This is a preview of her chosen career path that she has spent four years preparing for. But as her graduation approaches, this one concern lingers at the back of her mind: Will she find a permanent job next year?
A classroom. By Zebrena Ralph
South Africa’s public education faces a contradiction: thousands of qualified teachers are entering this profession and struggling to find employment, while schools have teaching posts that remain vacant because of budgetary constraints.
Infographic explaining the education paradox in South Africa. By Zebrena Ralph
In 2023 former Minister of Basic Education, Angie Motshekga, wrote that about 31 000 teachers graduate annually, but only 18 000-20 000 teachers are absorbed into the public-school sector. At the same time, South Africa is approaching a wave of teacher retirements. It is expected that by 2030, close to half of South Africa’s teacher force will be retired. Motshekga said that the employment of teachers needs to rise from 405 000 to approximately 428 000 by 2030 to maintain the learner to teacher ratio which is 29.8 students to one teacher. These figures raise a central question: if qualified teachers are ready to work and the education system needs more educators, why are vacant teacher posts not being filled?
Lukhanyo Vangqa, a spokesperson for the Department of Basic Education, provides an overview for this national issue that public schools in South Africa are facing. Vangqa explains that “employee salaries are paid from equitable shares which comes from the Provincial Treasury. It doesn’t come from the (Department of) Basic Education. So, it’s the provinces that decide how much they want to allocate to their education departments… in terms of teachers and the employment of teachers,” he says.
“This comes after the budget has decreased as part of the country’s austerity measures to reduce the country’s debt, resulting in the budget for education being cut,” Vangqa adds. “Therefore, they need to find savings in their budget and one of the ways they do that is to allow for natural attrition. When teachers retire or resign…they don’t fill those vacancies in order to deal with the budgetary pressures and constraints they have.”
However, Tumi Madika, the Senior Executive Officer from the National Professional Teachers’ Organisation of South Africa (NAPTOSA) in Gauteng, laments how vacant teacher posts impact teachers on the ground. “The issue of unemployment of teachers is of serious nature,” Madika says. “Overcrowding is the order of the day in Gauteng schools… the reason for that is the rise in population. The department cannot keep up with the influx of people coming to Gauteng. The lack of appointment of teachers makes it worse for the issues of overcrowding.
“Issues of safety come into place…You are not able to teach, so teaching and learning is not happening.” Madika adds.
Madika also confirms that retired teachers’ posts are not filled due to budget constraints. “Those employees left by March 31 this year, the ages of 55 and 65. The challenge is that since that time, to date, there is no educator that has been employed in those positions…Those posts have been advertised now (clarified to be July) but they will appoint (teachers) next year January (2027). So, there is a chance that those educators are doubling up on work since March 31 (2026) up until next year.” He states that the government needs to lift the budget cuts and fund education adequately to combat the vacant posts.
A current teacher at King Edward VII School, Jonathan Green, has seen this reality unfold from two perspectives. Green teaches at a quintile five public school, which the government classifies as the least economically disadvantaged schools and are fee-paying schools. “We are very fortunate in the fact that we have more staff available and that means that there is reduced class sizes because there are a greater number of staff to carry the load.”
Through his non-profit organisation, Community Developmental Projects, he has held holiday classes at a no-fee paying school, Noordgesig Secondary School, Johannesburg for four years. “I think it is very different. Talk about overcrowding, that is where you see it happen. Talk about lack of resources to a greater extent, that is where you see it happen,” Green says. Apart from the responsibility of preparing for lessons, teaching learners and marking piles of tests, teachers must also deal with administrative work. “You have sympathy for the mountain of admin work, the diagnostics analysis that they (teachers) need to do, the compilation of results, the marking of many more scripts, you know.”
Green teaching at Noordgesig Secondary School. Image by Zebrena Ralph
After 34 years of teaching in six different public schools, Audrey Kleinhans (67) knows this situation well. She confirms that her post was not filled after her retirement. “My post was vacant (when I resigned) and they just took a teacher who was not qualified to replace me,” she says.
A classroom from King Edward The VII School. By Zebrena Ralph
As Nolusu completes her final year of her degree, she has a few concerns for what awaits her after university. “So next year I have to job hunt. So I am worried if I will get a job immediately or if I will have to wait long.
“If I don’t get a job next year, I think I will just come and do my honours because I have already applied,” Nolusu says.
This is a reality that has persisted for years and if budget constraints continue to affect the education sector, the future of South African public schools could be in an even more dire state.
FEATURE IMAGE: A classroom from King Edward The VII School. By Zebrena Ralph
Diabetes health education could help Wits students make informed choices about food and their health.
Wits students need more diabetes education to make informed health choices.
Limited healthy food options make it difficult for students to eat well on campus.
Health professionals are urging students to make healthier lifestyle choices.
For many students at the University of the Witwatersrand, deciding what to eat between lectures depends on two things – what is affordable and what is quick to eat. However, with diabetes becoming a growing health concern in South Africa, health professional Sister Lebohang Ngubeni, from the Shout IT Out Campaign, says students also need to understand how their everyday lifestyle choices can affect their health.
Students regularly eat cheap, convenient foods such as bunny chow, slap chips, fried foods and sugary snacks, while also getting little or no exercise. In the long run, these habits can lead to weight gain and also increase the risk of developing type 2 diabetes, a condition that occurs when blood sugar levels are too high, among other health problems.
TimesLive news recently reported on diabetes becoming South Africa’s leading cause of death. Dr Siyamak Saleh, who was commenting on the news report in a TikTok video, said, “HIV is a much easier condition to manage compared to diabetes! We need more health education.” It’s very important to know your blood sugar levels to help identify risks early on.
According to the National Institute of Diabetes and Digestive and Kidney Diseases, diabetes is a condition where there is too much glucose, or sugar, in the blood. The body gets glucose from the food we eat, and insulin helps the body use that glucose for energy. With type 2 diabetes, the body can become resistant to insulin, which causes glucose to build up in the blood.
The latest mortality data from Statistics South Africa shows that diabetes mellitus was responsible for 27 692 deaths in 2023, making it the country’s leading cause of natural death.
Wits students have several takeaway options, including Sausage Saloon, Chinese Lantern, and Kara Nicca’s. Sima Boyisa, a first-year Wits student, said she struggles to find healthier options on campus.
“There’s never healthy food. If I don’t eat burger, a wrap or chips at the Main Dining Hall, which are affordable, there’s nothing [else] I can opt for,” said Boyisa.
While the food outlets offer students affordable and convenient meals, Boyisa experience highlights a question at the heart of the issue, which is: do Wits students have enough affordable, healthy food options on Campus?
According to Sister Lebohang, “students should be aware of lifestyle factors such as obesity, smoking and lack of exercise because it can increase their risk of diabetes”. She advised students with a limited budget to prioritise vegetables, which they can buy at Food Lover’s Eatery in Braamfontein, drink more water and avoid fizzy drinks.
Students who are concerned and need information about diabetes, testing or management support can visit the Wits Campus Health and Wellness Centre. The main clinic is located on the lower ground floor of the Student Union Building, below the Matrix, on Braamfontein Campus East. Students on the Parktown Education Campus side can visit the satellite clinic at Highfield Accommodation House, on the ground floor.
FEATURED IMAGE: Wits students queue for affordable takeaway meals at Chinese Lantern. Photo: Alice Dhlamini.
Beyond the brand, how do young entrepreneurs distinguish between the personal and the professional to ensure co-existence in the digital space?
For Tamia Nontsikelelo, the line between person and professional is one she constantly has to negotiate.
Her experience at Wits expanded her ambitions beyond the “small dreams” she had growing up in Dobsonville.
Before Tol’Thema was a business, it was something Tamis Nontsikelelo wore to class. A headwrap that was never supposed to become a business.
The woman who appears online as the founder of Tol’Thema, in that very headwrap, eloquently gliding through her store located in the heart of Braamfontein, turning an ordinary customer’s requests into a reality, is the same woman who walks through Braamfontein, elevates her customer’s looks and represents the brand in person. She does not see social media as a stage for creating a version of herself designed to sell.
“If I present myself to be something online, then I must carry that in person”, she says. It is a simple philosophy in an online world where the boundary between a person and their brand is increasingly difficult to see. For Nontsikelelo branding matters. So does knowing when the brand stops. At some point one has to draw the line, because beyond Tol’Thema, she remains an individual. That distinction sits at the centre of the business she has built.
Tol’Thema is a modest fashion brand based in Braamfontein, but its beginnings were not rooted in a business plan. They began during Nontsikelelo’s time as a Wits student, when a headwrap became a way of navigating an insecurity about her appearance.
When she could not afford to braid her hair, wearing a headwrap initially offered a practical solution, but over time it became something more. She began to enjoy how she looked in them. “At the time, I just learned that when I put on a headwrap, it doesn’t matter what’s happening underneath”, she says. “I could still feel confident and feel beautiful.”
“It became less about hiding and more about, ‘I just look good in it. I feel good in it,’” she recalls.
Her classmates noticed. Other women started asking where they could get the headwraps. Nontsikelelo saw an opportunity. “Everyone would ask me, so I decided, listen, let me plug you”, she says.
What began as personal expression became a business. That transition is important because Tol’Thema was built around an experience Nontsikelelo already understood: clothing could change how a woman felt about herself.
Today, the brand has expanded beyond headwraps into modest clothing designed to be versatile, adjustable and wearable across different occasions. But Nontsikelelo says appearance alone is not enough. “Is it actually wearable? Is it comfortable? Does a woman feel good in it? Does she feel confident in it?” she asks.
The business therefore sits at an intersection between fashion and identity. The clothes are designed to make customers feel confident, while Nonstikelelo’s own identity has become inseparable from how the business is presented.
Owner of Tol’Thema and media personality. Photo by Keletso Zwane.
She remembers questioning whether she had the right to even begin. “Who are you to start something?” she recalls asking herself. “Who are you to start a business? Who are you to turn nothing into something?”
Her response was to start anyway.
A month before Tol’Thema officially launched, Nonstikelelo opened its business page and began posting every day. She connected it to her personal page and used social media to build an audience before the business had even made its first sale.
When launch day arrived, she made six sales.
For Nonstikelelo, the significance was not simply that people had bought clothes. She had never worked before and had never earned money from her own labour. Seeing money enter her account from something she had created was confirmation that the idea existed beyond her imagination.
“These people actually gave me real, hard-earned money for this thing that I have,” she remembers.
Social media had allowed her to turn something personal into something commercial.
But it also created a different responsibility: being visible enough for the business to exist in a crowded digital space while making sure that visibility remains truthful.
Nontsikelelo does not describe this as performing.
Instead, she sees it as accountability.
If the person customers encounter online is confident, professional and representative of Tol’Thema, then that same person must exist offline. “Tamia on Instagram in that headwrap who feels confident and beautiful, is the same Tamia people will meet outside”, she says.
It is a demanding standard, but one that also gives her control over the way the business is understood. That control is significant for someone whose own journey has involved learning to take up space.
Nonstikelelo grew up in Dobsonville and describes coming from a world of “small dreams”. Getting into Wits itself felt almost impossible. Once there, she encountered people from different countries and backgrounds and began to understand that the world was larger than she had imagined.
Yet the size of the institution initially made her feel smaller.
She remembers “walking around on eggshells”, unsure whether she belonged.
Wits changed that understanding. “When I actually made it into Wits, it was huge” Nonstikelelo says. Her ambitions grew from wanting a degree and a small house in the neighbourhood where she grew up to imagining possibilities beyond what she had previously considered realistic.
Now, the challenge is different.
She is no longer trying to convince herself that she belongs in someone else’s space. She has created a space of her own but maintaining it requires her to constantly negotiate how much of herself belongs to the brand.
There is power in that ownership. Unlike traditional advertising, where someone else decides how a product is presented, Nonstikelelo controls the image of Tol’Thema through her own voice, appearance and social media presence.
But that control has a boundary. “At some point I have to draw the line”, Nonstikekelo says.
Nonstikelelo the founder and Nontsikelelo the individual may overlap, but they are not entirely the same person.
Her story raises a question that extends beyond one fashion business: as social media allows entrepreneurs to turn their personalities, stories and identities into part of their businesses, how much of a person can become a brand before the distinction between the two begins to disappear?
For Nonstikelelo, the answer is not to separate herself completely from Tol’Thema. It is to know where the line is.
FEATURED IMAGE: Owner of Tol’Thema and media personality. Photo by Keletso Zwane.
From altering oversized trousers in a university residence to turning discarded clothing into insulation for informal settlements. Bryan Lepelle is proving that a small student idea can grow into a business with a bigger purpose.
Drip Tailors is focused on sustainability, skills development and job creation.
Lepelle received a Head of School Award at Wits.
Lepelle formally registers his business in 2025.
Bryan Lepelle, a co-founder of Drip Tailors, is not the kind of entrepreneur who started with a big office, expensive machines or a large amount of funding. As an Honours student in Education, his entrepreneurial journey started in 2023 while he was a student living at Barnato residence at the University of the Witwatersrand.
Lepelle and his co-founder, Refilwe Monyela, bought trousers that were too big for them. Instead of looking for someone to alter the trousers, they decided to do it themselves. Their sewing skills were self-taught. They adjusted the trousers and, to their surprise, it worked. “We taught ourselves how to sew and we adjusted the trousers and it actually went well,” says Lepelle.
That small success made them think about other students who could be facing the same problem. With many students buying clothes online from stores such as Shein and Temu, they wondered whether there were other students who faced the same problem they did. So, they posted in university groups to find out and there were many.
What began with two students trying to fix their own trousers quickly turned into an opportunity.
“We identified a problem that students had and we had to come up with a solution,” Lepelle explains.
At first, Drip Tailors was informal. Lepelle and Monyela were simply making some extra money on the side while studying. It was not yet the serious business it would later become. In 2025, however, they took another important step by entering the entrepreneurial space at E-hub. The E-hub is a university –based entrepreneurship hub that supports students and emerging entrepreneurs in developing and growing their businesses. With the support they received there, the business was formally registered. They received mentorship, which helped them understand that what they had started could become more than just a side-hustle.
But turning an idea into a business came with its own challenges. “The biggest challenge when we were starting was funding, basically because we work with machinery and other equipment,” Lepelle says.
The lack of resources forced the young entrepreneurs to find ways to work with what they had. “When we started, we made an investment in buying two small machines. Even though we lacked some equipment, we found a way of adapting and using those two machines, and it did work,” he says. Later, they received funding after winning an Enactus competition. Other support, including funding from Ford Motor Company, also helped them move forward.
Drip Tailors Co-founders Refilwe Monyela (left) and Bryan Lepelle (right) pose with certificates after being recognized for their tailoring work. Photo: Supplied/ Drip Tailors
Learning to work with limited resources became part of his entrepreneurial education. But Drip Tailors was also changing. The business began looking beyond simply altering clothes and towards a much bigger problem: textile waste and the cold weather experienced by people living in informal settlements. This led to the development of ThermaCycle.
Drip Tailors collects unwanted clothing through clothing donation drives and other partnerships. “When we go to collect clothes, there are clothes that can’t be donated because they are seriously damaged, beyond repair and can’t be used anymore, Lepelle says. Instead of throwing those clothes away, Drip Tailors repurposes them. “We take those clothes, disinfect them and decolour them, and we make thermal wall insulation with those clothes,” he explains. The insulation is then used to help make homes in informal settlements warmer.
According to Lepelle, the material can help increase the temperature inside a house by 8 to 18 degrees, helping create a warmer and more comfortable living environment during colder months.
At the heart of Drip Tailors is the idea of finding solutions to problems.
The business has grown into a social enterprise. It is not only focused on recycling waste but also on teaching people skills that they can use to be self-sustainable. Drip Tailors has a training academy where people are taught sewing skills. Lepelle explains that the goal is not simply to train people and send them home, but to give them skills that can create opportunities for their future. As he puts it, “after someone has completed their training, they can go start their own business.” He also emphasises that Drip Tailors is focused on creating a meaningful impact in the community, stating that “Drip Tailors teaches people skills so they can be able to sustain themselves.”
This focus on skills and employment is especially important to Lepelle because of the high level of unemployment among young people in South Africa. As he explains, “trying to employ a certain portion of youth is solving one of the country’s problems.”
Being a student and a business owner at the same time is challenging. While other young people may spend their free time relaxing, going out with friends or simply enjoying university life, Lepelle often spends his spare time serving clients, managing his team and thinking about the future of the business. He admits that finding a balance has been one of the hardest parts of his journey. His solution? Organisation.
Lepelle creates weekly schedules and sets goals for each. His university timetable also gives him some flexibility because he attends classes once a week and has many classes online. Lepelle explains, “I divide my time by setting weekly schedules and setting goals for every week.” He adds that attending physical classes once a week and having the rest online gives him the flexibility to manage both his studies and business.
He believes the success of the project is not about two directors doing everything themselves.
“It’s all possible because of a team,” he says.
His journey has also taken him beyond South Africa. In 2025, Lepelle travelled to Thailand, where he made international connections and developed partnerships with people from other countries. He says the experience taught him that networking is one of the most important parts of entrepreneurship. More importantly, he learned that a company is not only about the people who own it. It is about the people it serves.
That lesson has influenced the way he looks at business. In his view, entrepreneurship should have an impact on the community. It should create opportunities, solve problems and help people. That belief has also shaped his leadership.
His advice is simple: take the risk.
“If you don’t take steps, no one will take them for you,” he says.
For Lepelle failure is also part of the process. Sometimes, he says, you have to fail in order to learn. His own journey shows that entrepreneurship does not always begin with a perfect business plan. Sometimes it starts with a problem that needs solving. For him, it was a pair of trousers that did not fit. Today, the same mindset is being used to tackle a much bigger problem: textile waste, cold homes and unemployment.
Drip Tailors co-founders Refilwe Monyela (left) and Bryan Lepelle (right) at an Enactus competition. Photo: Supplied/Drip Tailors
FEATURE IMAGE: The official logo of Drip Tailors, a Wits students’ tailoring business. Photo: Supplied/ Drip Tailors
The covid-19 pandemic that is gripping the world has prompted the transformation of the teaching practice curriculum in South Africa, introducing a new challenge for student teachers.(more…)
A new wellness campaign is raising awareness around food insecurity among university students.
The office of student success (OSS), under the faculty of health science (FHS) has been running a novel campaign, #MakeADifference, since June, which aims to encourage donations towards basic needs care-kits that include food and toiletry supplies that are given to Wits health science students in need, while simultaneously raising awareness of food insecurity in South African universities.
The #MakeADifference campaign was developed by master’s students in community-based counselling psychology (MACC), in partnership with the OSS, a student wellness department.
Erick Kabongo, a MACC student, says the campaign is intended to, “capture different aspects of a students’ well-being” and this includes ensuring access to basic necessities such as food and toiletries.
“Class issues vary and some students get access to things while others don’t. If we aid students with basics such as food and toiletry, we are allowing them to compete fairly within their academic pursuits,” says Boikhutso Maubane, a counselling psychologist at OSS.
Before the campaign launched, the OSS had a food bank that would receive donations irregularly and only catered to a small pool of students who expressed need. “What was important this year was being able to really provide for students, especially during these trying economic times in South Africa,” Maubane told Wits Vuvuzela.
Despite being disrupted by the covid-19 pandemic, the campaign has increased the visibility of the food bank to potential donors as well as students who may need support.
Since June, OSS has distributed over 70 care-kits and has recently received 74 care-kits valued at R200 through a single donation, which will be distributed to students for the remainder of the year. Care-kits consist of non-perishable foods and basic toiletries.
Anelisa Mofokeng , administrator at the OSS, says an average of 10 students fetch a care-kit when available from the office. Students are identified through the health science course coordinators or they approach the OSS independently. There are roughly 70 students who form part of the campaign’s database and receive an email when care-kits are available. The office prioritises self-funding students when distributing care-kits but NSFAS students are not excluded from receiving aid.
Due to the pandemic, the campaign has been forced to function largely online, taking away the ability to engage with the Wits community. However, Maubane says the campaign has still managed to make a difference in this difficult time and it still has a lot to accomplish for the benefit of student communities.
FEATURE IMAGE: The #MakeADifference campaign supports health sciences students in need. Photo: Vetiwe Mamba
The coronavirus pandemic has negatively affected the delivering of primary healthcare services and health-seeking behaviour, according to experts.(more…)
The private student accommodation company is caught between the Unemployment Insurance Fund and workers stressed by the regulations to control the coronavirus pandemic.(more…)
Since her announcement as the Democratic Alliance’s mayoral candidate for Johannesburg, Helen Zille has dominated national headlines. In this bonus episode of We Should Be Writing podcast, hosts Lulah Mapiye and Bonolo Mokonoto dissect a media meet-and-greet with the mayoral hopeful. From her extensive political résumé to her controversial public utterance, we examine why the Democratic Alliance has chosen Hellen Zille as their candidate for the 2027 local mayoral elections. Additionally, […]
