In the last article, we raised difficult questions about the state of transformation in South Africa’s corporate social investment (CSI) space. The appointment of four white individuals to prominent leadership positions wasn’t the story itself—it was the symbol. It forced us to ask: what does transformation actually mean when, decades into democracy, whiteness still occupies the centre of power in a space that is meant to redress historical injustice?
The response was as expected. There were those who engaged thoughtfully, those who defended the status quo, and of course, those who chose silence. And then there were the unsubscribes—mostly from white readers. That didn’t come as a surprise, and nor was it a loss. Transformation is not a soft, comfortable thing. It is disruptive by nature, and anyone committed to real change must learn to hold the discomfort alongside the vision.
When I began this journey 26 years ago, I came to understand that in every comfortability—every shift—there are three kinds of people. The first are those who get it. They see the horizon you’re pointing to, and they want to walk alongside you. The second are those who resist, often not because they don’t understand, but because they have something to lose if the system changes. And then there’s the third group—the ones who watch. They’re not ready to support you, but they’re not ready to oppose you either. They hover in the middle, watching where it all goes, cautious not to make a move until they’re sure it’s safe.
This pattern has played out over the past week. We sent over 6,000 emails as part of the Transformation on Trial series, and about 34% were opened. That tells me people are curious. They’re paying attention. But it also tells me that the work ahead isn’t going to be popular with everyone. And that’s alright. If you thought this was a conversation about race, you’ve missed the point. It’s about structure. And yes, it’s about justice. But most importantly, it’s about transformation in the true sense of the word—an unravelling of the systems that were never built for us to begin with, and a collective attempt to imagine new ones that are.
I’ve recently been reading a book called The Business of Philanthropy by Badr Jafar. It’s a compelling look at global philanthropic leadership, and it features 50 individuals from around the world who are shaping the future of giving. Not one of them is South African. That detail struck me more than any of the stories in the book. We are supposed to be a country with one of the most advanced CSI ecosystems in the Global South. We’ve got the structures. The frameworks. The policies. But where are our voices when the world starts to talk about philanthropy at scale? We weren’t there. We weren’t even considered.
That absence is not just about being overlooked—it’s about not having built a collective voice powerful enough to be heard. Zimbabwe was there. Nigeria was there. But South Africa? Silent. And that tells me that what we’ve built here might look good on paper, but if we are not being included in global thought leadership spaces, then we are simply managing activity, not leading transformation.
This is not a race conversation. It’s a systems conversation. Just like gender transformation took deliberate, sustained focus—legislation, policies, programmes, awards, and even public holidays—so too must transformation in the CSI sector be driven by intention, courage, and a clear direction. And that direction, for us, is 50by50.
Someone recently asked me what the real purpose of Transformation on Trial series is. My answer was simple: it’s 50by50. That’s the roadmap. That’s the endgame. We want to see 50% black ownership, leadership, and value participation across the CSI value chain by the year 2050. That’s not a slogan. It’s a commitment. It’s about building an infrastructure—an ecosystem—where social investment is not only more representative, but more effective in solving the problems it claims to address.
Of course, it won’t be neat. It won’t be perfect. We will get it wrong sometimes. We will try things that fail. But that’s exactly why this has to be a collective effort. We’re going to need each other—for perspective, for correction, for resilience.
This article is a breather before we dive into the next leg of the series, which will focus on corruption in the CSI space. I’ve already begun having conversations that have shaken me. In a recent podcast, I shared my experience with a major South African bank—how our potential partnership was cut short after I refused to participate in a dodgy deal involving what could only be described as laundering CSI money. Soon after the episode went live, I received a call from a senior figure in the sector. He asked me a blunt question: “Do you find corruption more common among black professionals or white professionals in this space?” I had to sit with that question. And as someone who’s been in the game for over two decades, my answer wasn’t simple—but it was honest. I’ve experienced more corrupt overtures from black professionals than from white. That’s not an indictment—it’s a reflection of the demographic reality of who populates the space. But it does raise serious questions about internal accountability, power dynamics, and what we tolerate in the name of loyalty or familiarity.
That’s what we’ll explore next. What does corruption look like in CSI? How is it structured? Who benefits? And what does it mean for the credibility of our sector?
So, if you’ve made it this far, thank you. If you’re still watching from the sidelines, that’s fine—but I invite you to step in. Join the 50by50 platform. Engage. Argue. Build. The future of this sector depends not on a handful of heroes but on all of us doing the difficult work of transformation—together.
The Corporate Social Investment (CSI) industry in South Africa remains significantly underdeveloped and inconsistently governed. Several indicators highlight the pressing need for reform and professionalisation.
Firstly, decision-making power within CSI units is often unchecked. It is not uncommon for CSI heads or managers to fund organisations outside their approved strategy — with minimal scrutiny and loosely justified motivations. In no other business function would such discretionary use of resources be tolerated. Yet, CSI budgets are often treated as “soft money” — not expected to generate return, impact, or accountability — resulting in careless allocation and limited consequence for poor decisions.
A further concern is the absence of a standard qualification or competency framework for CSI leadership. Unlike sectors that require technical certifications or regulated expertise, CSI in South Africa has no formal qualification benchmark. This raises a critical question: how do we build standards and accountability without professional pathways? The lack of dedicated internal financial management within many CSI units further exposes the function to risk, inefficiency, and poor governance.
Structurally, CSI is still housed within marketing departments in many corporates. This positioning reflects outdated thinking. One must ask: would functions like Sustainability, Enterprise and Supplier Development (ESD), or Access to Finance be managed under Marketing? Certainly not. So why is CSI — a function tasked with enabling sustainable development and transformation — still seen as a public relations tool rather than a strategic lever for impact?
This lack of structural clarity and professional oversight has opened space for corruption and favouritism. As the sector grows, these gaps are becoming more visible. The South African CSI community is relatively small and interconnected; accountability is coming, and those abusing the system will inevitably be exposed as risk management, compliance, and reporting practices evolve.
On the matter of transformation and inclusion, I share concern about the shifting demographics on Foundation Boards, with a growing number of white directors being appointed. Simultaneously, more white-led and white-owned organisations are receiving CSI funding, often at the expense of grassroots Black-led NPOs and social enterprises. This signals a re-entrenchment of capital into white hands, reinforcing historical patterns of privilege under the guise of impact.
I believe we must resist this regression — and instead, build a 50by50 future: 50% Black leadership in the funding space by 2050, or sooner. I want to be part of that shift — building an industry that is transparent, professional, inclusive, and rooted in justice.
Thank you. An investigation is long over due. In today’s difficult economic climate everyone needs to be given an equal space based on merit.