Mandela Day 2025

I am part of Ubuntu Army. I may have named it, but I am merely a small part of it. I am a part of an army of everyday people from around the world who prioritize connecting with those people on the other side of the street. I am part of an army of other, everyday people, who do not rely on charity or NGOs or politicians to solve the poverty and inequality that billions live in, and survive. I am part of an army of everyday people, from all corners of the earth, who take personal responsibility for the poverty that surrounds them, by connecting, truly, humanly, with the poor, with the homeless, with the people on the other side of their fears.

At the screening of The Spirit of Ubuntu (https://youtu.be/uBm4bUqQE0E?si=j7jdyTF25EseBvRk), a documentary that shines a light on the practice of Ubuntu throughout Africa, and a film in which Ubuntu Army features, an old man waited until after the director and I had answered the audience’s questions at the end of the screening, to talk to me. He said, “Young man, I am a professor from UCLA (University of California, Los Angeles), in California and lead a department that studies poverty and democracy. I have studied both for 50 years, and your conclusion that direct, in-person connection between previously separated people is the solution to poverty, is the same conclusion that we reached”. I replied, “Thank you, I know! I really wish I could convince the rest of my country to subscribe to the connection model”. He nodded and smiled, and replied, “I have the same challenge in the US”. Until that old man validated my findings, I had been, for the four years prior to that, alone on the frontline of poverty, supporting the vulnerable, through Covid, riot and flood. During this time, I found myself surrounded by charities, NGOs and politicians, mostly marketing themselves, and all laser-focused on securing their future financial security. This sounds fair to many people, but when considered in the context of fighting poverty, in the context of the scale of the need that exists, their priorities, and their models are hopelessly inadequate, and to be honest selfish and self centered. They are capitalist, pure and simple, driven not by compassion, but by money.

During those challenging four years, the headline title on the Ubuntu Army home page read, “Welcome to Ubuntu Army, please don’t send us your money”. To many, this seemed strange, mainly, I believe, because we have all become so anesthetized to the charity and NGO industry operating on revenue based models. They operate as businesses, and what they don’t acknowledge is that their models lack the capacity to truly challenge poverty. They do their bit, mostly for salary, but make very little difference in the context of global poverty. They won’t admit this, but there is absolutely no plan to tackle systemic poverty, to create real change or to reduce inequality. Most of the charities and NGOs are committed to maintaining their revenue streams, growing them if possible, remaining employed, and staying in business. You would be mostly correct in assuming that this is the model that a for-profit business follows. In the case of a charity or NGO, the salaries are the same, but the for-profit is replaced with the non-profit moniker. Their’s is the business of suffering, and they have all carved out their own niche in the pain, and marketed themselves, relentlessly to you, the everyday people, under the banner of ending poverty. You cannot fix the inequality created by capitalism, with more capitalism. As an old professor and I found out, you also need heart. And billions of connections. These will create more compassionate and connected communities and societies. These will create a compassion revolution, that as a movement of the everyday people, stands an actual chance of truly, humanly, challenging poverty.

I spent those four years doing my best to demonstrate how an everyday person could use their own resource, and their heart, to dismantle a small chunk of the poverty that surrounded them. It was messy, and difficult at times, but effective, and incredibly rewarding. More effective than a donation made on an app, from a couch, in front of Netflix. I spent those four years trying my best to show anyone who would listen, read or watch, that an ordinary person can play an extraordinary role in tackling the poverty that surrounds them, simply by connecting with the people on the other side of the street, on the other side of their fears. Simply, by connecting with the “others”. And not because I donated a whole hunch of stuff to them, but because I connected with them, and we both felt seen, we both developed hope, for different, and the same reasons, we both understood and observed our common humanity, and we both realized that we have a lot more in common then we ever imagined. Giving stuff and money does not solve poverty. They relieve a little pain, but no more. Poverty is not a lack of resource, it is a lack of hope. Give your heart. Give yourself. These create the connections that solve poverty.

I am a part of Ubuntu Army. I may have done a lot of highly visible work, but I am simply a small part of what is needed. The scale of my work must not be used a metric by which to measure contribution. I did what I did, at the scale that I did it at, to get to this point I guess, where I can state, without a single fear of contradiction, that we all have a role to play. Every single one of us. We all have the power, the agency, the responsibility, the privilege to connect with the people on the other side of the street. Do what you can with what you have. I had a truck and I used it. Be bold and brave and break the norms, the constraints, the “right way to do things” or the “right people to support”. It’s all bullshit. All money. All marketing. Do not outsource your rights to the charities, the NGOs or the politicians. Reach out and connect, in person, perhaps nervously at first, but reach out. This will end poverty for someone, and will be a small part of the foundation on which the compassion revolution will be built. Be a part of the Everyday Army. Take your place in the thin red line of Ubuntu that wraps around the vulnerable. Join us. Become a part of Ubuntu Army.

Yesterday I collected 484 Jars of Hope from Nicky Cummings, the headmistress of Reddam House Early Learning School. Thank you Nicky, your children, their families and your staff for making this Mandela Day so soup-er! You guys rock massively! I was also chosen by the lovely people at Paton Tupper to receive the soup packs that they built. Thank you so much! I will distribute these jars, which can feed a family of four, to the vulnerable in my neighborhood. I have done this for many years. I know all the homeless, and the addicts and the travelers and the lost. They all visit my house, and stand at my gate waiting. Many want food and money, blankets and juice, but all want to chat. Everyone wants the connection. They feel seen when we meet at the gate. This is my part. It’s not grand, or important or marketed. It is simply my small part. What part can you play in your neighborhood, in your wider community, in the neighborhoods you dare to visit? What part can you play in our country?

Next year, when Mandela Day rolls around I will do things slightly differently. Next year, I will ask Nicky and her Reddham team, and the team at Paton Tupper, to encourage their staff, their children, their families to keep a few of the jars to hand out at their own gates. To meet the people at their gate with a Jar of Hope or a soup pack, and a chat. Most importantly, a chat. I will ask Nicky and her Reddham team, the Reddham families and the Paton Tupper staff to meet the people on the other side of the street, on the other side of their fears. To connect. This is what change looks like. Ubuntu.

Heart of Hope

Jar of Hope

Nicky Cummins and her Reddham team