From South African classrooms to Gaza’s borders, the message is clear: charity must always begin with generosity, but its destiny is to become justice.
This International Day of Charity (5 September) should do more than celebrate generosity. It should provoke us to ask harder questions. What kind of charity do we practice? Does it transform lives, or merely patch over fractures?
Globally, philanthropy has produced extraordinary examples. Warren Buffett’s decision to give away nearly his entire fortune, or Patagonia’s radical move to dedicate its wealth to fighting climate change, show that giving can carry real weight. They inspire, but they also leave us uneasy. Must one wait until billions are in hand before acting? If philanthropy becomes the preserve of the very wealthy, it risks spectacle rather than solidarity.
Strive Masiyiwa offers a different lesson. His philanthropy, investing in education, healthcare and digital access across Africa, is unapologetically rooted in the continent’s needs. It shows that charity, when focused and ambitious, can be both grounded and transformative.
South Africa illustrates why these matter. Inequality runs deep, shaping classrooms that remain overcrowded, hospitals that strain under demand, and an economy that excludes far more than it includes. In such a setting, charity cannot be scattered. Too often resources are spread thinly, offering temporary relief without building lasting change.
This is why the current interest by the Jannie Mouton Foundation, using a mix of cash as well as Capitec and PSG Financial Services shares to finance the acquisition of Curro schools and convert them into a nonprofit organisation, has drawn so much attention. On the surface, it represents the scale and focus that philanthropy requires: a systemic intervention in education with the potential to reshape opportunity for thousands of learners. But the critical question is whether this vision genuinely opens doors wider, or simply secures privilege under the guise of charity. Unless such a move creates access for a broader demographic than those who can already afford education of this calibre, it risks being protectionist rather than transformative.
The Curro case highlights the tension at the heart of philanthropy: bold acts of giving can inspire, but unless they are inclusive and urgent, they risk reinforcing the very inequalities they claim to address. Children cannot suspend hunger or poor schooling until mergers are signed and strategies finalised. Families cannot defer inequality until philanthropic visions are implemented. Justice, if it is to matter, cannot wait.
Globally, the same dilemma plays out. In the United States, charity sits uneasily alongside entrenched inequities in healthcare and housing. In Europe, fundraising surges during refugee crises but seldom leads to policies that guarantee long-term dignity and integration. The humanitarian catastrophe in Gaza offers another stark reminder: billions in aid and countless charitable acts have sought to alleviate suffering, yet without addressing the underlying conditions of blockade and conflict, charity becomes a revolving door of relief without resolution. Across the Global South, aid for climate disasters arrives too slowly, or is tied to donor priorities rather than local realities.
The lesson is consistent: when charity is aligned to a vision, directed at systemic challenges, and sustained over time, it reshapes futures. A single school turned around can nurture hundreds of leaders. A health intervention that scales beyond one community can shift national outcomes. An investment in climate resilience can protect generations. This is the difference between charity as sentiment and charity as transformation.
But responsibility does not rest with billionaires alone. Small, focused acts matter. A business supporting a local school, a neighbour ensuring another family eats, or a professional mentoring an unemployed youth, these acts may not command headlines, but when persistent and focused, they accumulate into lasting change. The true measure of charity is not how much is given, but how deeply it is committed to effectiveness.
This International Day of Charity, the question is not simply how much has been pledged, but how wisely, how urgently and how transformatively. From South African classrooms to Gaza’s borders, the message is clear: charity must always begin with generosity, but its destiny is to become justice.
Professor Armand Bam is head of social impact at Stellenbosch Business School.