MALAIKA MAHLATSI | The Mandela Day corporate performance that demands reflection

In 2015, a highly controversial campaign was born on the streets of Johannesburg and brought to life by CEOs of some of the biggest and richest companies in the country.

It was called the CEO SleepOut and it involved wealthy and powerful men and women who control the commanding heights of the economy “experiencing” homelessness for a night with the aim of raising millions for charity.

At the inaugural event held on the Nelson Mandela Bridge, the CEOs, who had each donated R100,000 to the appointed charity to secure their spots, were shuttled to the site in luxury SUVs, including Porsche Cayennes and Mercedes-Benzes.

They queued on a designated blue carpet while sipping warm beverages from takeaway cups before sleeping in warm sleeping bags. The event took place within heavily barricaded, strictly policed zones equipped with emergency medical services so if any of them fell ill, help was immediately available.

This, of course, was a huge contrast to the daily violence and vulnerability faced by the truly homeless, who have no access to emergency medical services unless they walk to deteriorating, underfunded and understaffed public clinics and hospitals.

Where were the homeless on this night, you may wonder? They, and street vendors, were cleared from the streets where the event took place. This was to ensure the safety and comfort of the executives.

Despite raising the money as intended — and subsequently expanding nationwide in subsequent years, hosting satellite events in Cape Town, eThekwini and Gqeberha — the event rightly received a massive backlash.

Critics pointed out that sleeping on a pavement for a single night does not provide a genuine understanding of systemic poverty or homelessness. On social media, terms such as “poverty porn” and “slacktivism” were widely used, with people condemning the event for turning a dire economic and humanitarian crisis into a temporary, trend-driven corporate team-building exercise built on an exploitative aesthetic.

The next year, the event again took place on the Nelson Mandela Bridge, where police clashed with student protesters who were demonstrating against the event’s hypocrisy. The incident resulted in Siphiwe Shange, a 19-year-old Wits University student, being shot in the eye with a rubber bullet.

I’m reflecting on this as I think about some of the philanthropy that has come to define Nelson Mandela Day, a globally recognised day celebrated annually on July 18, the late statesman’s birthday.

Last Saturday, as with many years before, we saw companies give 67-minutes of their time to initiatives including painting dilapidated schools, preparing meals for the homeless, hiking to raise money for charity and visiting aged care homes. These initiatives are not bad or pointless, but they’re not the kinds that companies that make hundreds of millions in profits should be proudly participating in for an hour in a year.

They are initiatives that ordinary people with limited resources may take because that is all they are able to do. My grandmother, who is a pensioner, may cook for the homeless. My friend who is unemployed may paint a school in Soweto.

However, a CEO who runs a multi-million rand company cannot reasonably engage in the same exercise as a means of philanthropy and believe they are doing good.

Instead of a one-night charity stunt on the Nelson Mandela Bridge or painting schools, corporate leaders should be addressing structural challenges that bring about more meaningful and sustainable change in society.

These men and women who are multi-millionaires should focus on paying living wages that allow employees to have dignified lives, altering exploitative corporate structures that disproportionately concentrate company profits in executive packages and shareholder dividends, and paying fair taxes to structurally alleviate poverty and fund public services. Anything less is mere performance.

Sowetan