Filmed and edited by Devin Kumar (www.devinkumar.com)
Gallery: Philani Photo Page
Click a photo to enter slideshow mode. See blog writings in the previous post.
A Nourishing Meal for the Soul


The Philani Maternal, Child Health and Nutrition project is an organization that addresses maternal and child health. The program helps support pregnant mothers to improve their birth outcomes, educates women on how to prevent the transmission of HIV from mother to child, and teaches women about nutrition so that they can keep their children healthy. Today, our class visited the headquarters and starting point of this project in Cape Town.
I was very inspired after spending time at the center with the mentor mothers and the children. I believe that my peer Rowan summed up my experience when she said, “It’s so much more enjoyable doing work for others that you want to do, than doing work for yourself that you’re made to do.” I think that statement explained a lot about what the program’s mentor mothers (women who guide and support the local mothers to raise a healthy family) brought to their work. Near the end of our adventure, the mothers decided to sing for us and of course Maverick was the first one in our class to jump up and start moving to the rhythm. Inspired by this, our class threw ourselves into the whirlwind of sound. Every single person started dancing, singing, cheering, clapping or was in a combined state of smiling and crying. You could tell that every single mentor mother enjoyed their job and cared about the work that they did. They showed us how much love they bring to Philani and how that love empowers and helps other women and their families live a healthy and supported life. I think when people love their work and are 100% committed to it like these women are, it has ten times the impact it does on the people benefiting from their support and wisdom.

Another highlight from our time at Philani was being with the children at school. My favorite part of visiting the kids was during their snack. A small group from our class went into their classroom to hand out snacks and all the kids raised their hands up after they ate and started yelling, “Jojo! Jojo!” at us. Even though we didn’t know what it meant, our group said it back to them and this went on for what felt like ten minutes. We later found out that they were screaming a phrase from some burger advertisement that they had seen, but the part that was touching was that even with a language barrier, the children and we shared a connection because happiness and laughter are universal things. Being in state of love, appreciation, and sheer joy, it was easy to ignore the fact that our group and the kids didn’t speak the same language or couldn’t hold a conversation; the happiness was too important.
Every single kid had so much energy and interest in meeting new people that I found myself in awe and as happy as I could be. Being around these children made me remember how much innocence, joy, and curiosity goes into childhood. I was inspired by seeing these kids living their best lives, with such simplicity. Being with them truly made me realize how so many people think they need so much just to live but we really don’t need all that much. Overall, the Philani visit has been one of the most inspiring experiences I’ve ever been involved with. I believe that I’ll never forget my time there and what I learned just by being around wonderful and empowering people.


Music, to the American is simply an activity; to the South African it is a way of engagement. While we were visiting Philani, a group of mentor mothers came out of their training session to sing to us. As soon as they came out, we could feel their energy. We looked around at each other and quickly realized that the songs we had prepared were going to be blown away by whatever it was they were about to perform for us. When they walked over to perform, there was no making sure they were in a specific line, no ensuring they had the right pitch, no warming up. They jumped right in and grabbed our attention with a grasp that we could not be pulled away from, even if we had tried.
The moment they opened their mouths a wave of raw emotion that was new to me flew out. When Americans sing, the music sounds wonderful and is a fantastic food for the ears, but the music that these women made was an entire nourishing meal for the soul. It was as if the women were singing to share a part of their story and their lives with us instead of singing so that we could hear their voices and appreciate the sound. For a good portion of the time they were singing they weren’t even singing to us, they were singing to each other. They used music to connect to each other on a deeper level and we were invited to join them, which was beautiful.

After their first couple of songs a fantastic moment happened. We had been watching them sing and dance from a short distance away, and then Maverick bridged the gap and joined them in dancing. Everyone in our class seemed to hold their breath, but the women went right on singing and dancing even accepting Maverick into their ranks with smiles and laughter. Soon, a few more people started dancing over to the women and before long our entire class had begun dancing, smiling, and laughing along with the mothers. This experience lasted around 5 minutes but it felt like hours. I remember having a massive smile glued to my face during the entire time.
This entire experience, with the mothers singing to us and us joining them in dance, really brought me into this trip. As soon as it was over I realized that I had just experienced such a deep sense of emotion conveyed through song that music would be changed forever for me. After having experienced this, I realized that music was not simply an activity for them as it is for us, it is a way of giving yourself to another so they can understand you by sharing with them your raw emotions.


After unloading and sorting the clothing donations that we brought, we were met with much excitement from the coordinators and mentor mothers. They told us that many children normally would only be wrapped in blankets. Now, they could go outside and play in the winter weather. After hearing from several of the women that worked at Philani, we were sorted into groups to work. My group went to start rolling balls of fabric that would be used on the loom. Once that job was mostly completed, we hung out with the kids from the preschool. I remember looking around the play structure and then I saw a little girl just looking at me with her arms raised, so I picked her up and we walked around as she played with my hair.

A highlight of the day was when I met a mentor mother and her daughters and niece. As we worked rolling the fabric string into balls, we talked about school. The eldest was in twelfth grade, her sister was in third grade, and the niece was in ninth grade. The eldest talked about studying psychology in college. We talked a lot about our relationships with our moms. As we kept untangling the string, we laughed and joked in the small amount of sunlight. It felt like we were all connected by that string. I couldn’t have felt any more peaceful. I have made a new friend and she wants me to come back, and I have plans to make it happen. Another highlight of the day was when one of the administrators said, after explaining how she made it to South Africa as a refugee, that she learned that we are here to bring light to people when it is very dark. Bringing a small amount of help can lead to great opportunities.

It is safe to say that the two days we’ve spent in South Africa have surpassed any expectations I previously held. I thought I was prepared. I had read the blog posts of the class that came before us as well as watched the videos of their trip, but all my preconceived notions were quickly wiped away.

Upon arrival at Philani, I learned of the many inspiring women who work within its mentor mother program. These women are mothers from low income areas that have surpassed their circumstances and raised healthy children themselves. Recruited by Philani, these mentor mothers go out into communities and support other mothers with children ages zero to five in being confident mothers who raise healthy children. What really struck me is that not only are they providing these women with resources but working towards the continued progression of the communities.
After spending the day helping at Philani, as well as interacting with the children, we were surprised with a concert from the mentor mothers we had learned about earlier. As they sung, we all watched and I was unable to stop the smile from spreading across my face. By the middle of their performance our class had joined them, and we were all dancing around the courtyard. For me, it was extremely empowering to be surrounded by these women who inspired me with their hard work. By the end of our time there, I realized how completely present I was, the usual thoughts of self-consciousness I carried were nonexistent. I had spent the day completely focused and interested by my surroundings. Today has left me both inspired and excited for the rest of our time here in South Africa.


“Good morning,” the kids at Philani chimed as we stood in their happy presence. It didn’t matter that these young kids and I didn’t speak the same language because the love still flowed through each and every one of us. Small, simple communications were all we needed to have fun together. When the kids wanted to go across the monkey bars in the playground they would simply say, “Missy! Missy!” and then we would proceed to help them across. To communicate our love, and joy that we were together, we would smile, wave, and say, “Morning!” repeatedly.

Personally, I got the pleasure of spending time with one specific little girl named Mary. She was very shy at first, but when we started singing and dancing with the whole group, she held onto my hand and didn’t let go. The group spread out and went to do other things, so I turned to Mary and proceeded to try and communicate with hand motions and facial expressions. After only two minutes of simply smiling at each other, Mary wrapped her arms around my legs and gave me a big hug. I squatted down so that I was the same height as her and she adjusted so that her arms were wrapped around my neck. I hugged her back and we continued to hold each other fondly. In that moment, feeling Mary’s arms wrapped tightly around me, I looked around at all my classmates playing with the other kids and felt pure joy. The sun was shining, everyone was having fun, and in their faces, I could see the enormous amount of love that they felt. At that moment, my heart was full and I realized how immensely grateful I am for the opportunity to be here in South Africa with such warm-hearted people.
After we said our bittersweet goodbyes to the kids, a group of about 30 women, who were in training to become mentor mothers, came outside and sang for us. Seeing the joy in their faces as they performed increased the love in my heart even more. Not only are they great performers, but they are also changing the world. These mentor mothers save the lives of so many children in South Africa by checking on them and their mothers to make sure that they are well-nourished and developing correctly. These inspiring women are the reason why Philani is so successful and why the children that we met today were so joyful. I can confidently say that today was one of the best and most inspiring days of my life. I will never forget the beautiful smiles of those kids and the immense love I felt singing, dancing, and playing with them.

At Philani Maternal, Child Health and Nutrition Project
Gallery: Philani Photos
Click a photo to enter slideshow mode!
Photos by Shmuel Thaler.
Video: Philani
Filmed and edited by Devin Kumar.
See the post below this for writings from the students!
Philani Playdate

Walking into the classroom I was greeted with the purest, most instant love I have ever felt in my life. Every hand grabbed at me, some waving and giving me a thumbs up while they grinned uncontrollably. Hands grasped my hands, trying to pull me in all different directions as I tried to walk forward with kids clinging to my legs. I was in the 3-4-year-old classroom at the Philani Nutrition Project.
The Philani Nutrition Project is an organization that aims at helping pregnant mothers and mothers with children ages zero to five through their most vulnerable times. At their main campus, they have classrooms for 3-4 year olds, 4-5 year olds, and 5-6 year olds.
Each child I met was filled with love and laughter, and all wanted to be my best friend. We helped them do their arts and craft projects, sang songs, and played together. I sat on the ground and they clambered onto my lap and looked at me saying words I did not understand. I would ask them their names and they would respond with the few English words they knew which usually were colors or days of the week. Despite the language barrier, we had an instant connection. We communicated through our movements, laughs, and smiles.
I made friends with one boy who calmly grabbed my hand, took me to the playground, and climbed on my back as we walked around observing the other kids. We couldn’t talk to each other and didn’t even know each other’s names but every time I looked at him he had the biggest smile on his face. He would run up to me and leap in my arms as though I was his sister. As we left they all ran up to me and showered me in hugs and kisses on the cheeks. I will never forget their smiles, the way the accepted me without hesitation, and the unconditional love I felt even though we had just met. When we left, we didn’t feel like strangers anymore, we felt like family.

When I arrived at Philani I was excited to play with the kids. I stood in the classroom and looked around the room, there I saw a small child with a big smile looking straight at me; at that moment, I knew I had to hang out with him. We started building things with play dough. He told me to, “Make a boat. Make a car.” Make this, make that, and I would. We then went to recess, and he wanted to ride on my back. “Go, Cyrus!” “Run faster Cyrus!” he would say. When it came time to say goodbye I started to feel something that I have never felt before. I was struck with sadness, and I couldn’t keep myself together. Seeing him walk away, while looking back trying to find me, really hit me.
Before arriving at Philani, we drove through Khayelitsha, a shantytown of over a million, and I saw extreme signs of poverty, much worse than I have ever seen at home, in the United States. This is where the kids we played with at Philani live. I felt sad because no one should have to live in conditions like that. At the same time, it was surprising to me to see how happy they were and what strong spirits they had. I felt like I was looking at two different worlds. Although I know that the kids are happy and full of joy, that is not enough to make me feel relieved. Today, I observed something that I have never experienced before, and I will never forget it. I wish all of the best for every child there, and especially for my friend; Ayulla.

I have never been a fan of small kids. I used to only interact with children over the age of 10 because I either feared dropping them or doing something wrong. My entire mindset about children shifted today. When we arrived at Philani Child Nutrition Project we were immediately greeted with smiles from the workers who showed us around. We sat down and watched some informative videos about the organization and the amazing things they do for the township they are based in. After talking with some of the women that worked at Philani, we were told that we had three different choices for volunteering: filing papers in the administration office, making balls of cloth to be used for the looms, or playing with children ages 3-4, 4-5, or 5-6. Not surprisingly, I avoided hanging out with the children. Instead, I went to the yarn rolling station which happened to be very therapeutic. Trying to keep a ball of blue or black cloth from unraveling, and talking to people at the same time, became very easy; there was a sort of rhythm about it. We rolled up the balls of cloth for some time and then they gave us a tea/coffee break. After the break, they said that everyone who hadn’t hung out with the kids yet could. I was hesitant at first but eventually went to hang out with the 4-5-year-olds. 18 kids sat in a circle, singing like they didn’t have a care in the world. I sat down on the outside of the circle listening to what I assumed was a South African nursery rhyme. They were singing with so much confidence and at such a high volume, it was amazing. Their lack of fear in getting up to lead their class in a nursery rhyme, while dancing the whole time, struck me.
The teacher then said four words to us, “We’re going to play.” The playground was filled with small kids on the swing sets, running around, being held by my classmates, or climbing on a small play structure. I was experiencing what I had seen previous Mount Madonna classes enjoy so much. I went over to the swing set where a kid was sitting still on the swing, trying to push herself. I pushed her once, and the biggest grin came across her face as she turned her head upside down to look at me. I pushed her for a while, smiling the whole time. Eventually, one of her classmates took over my job. I stood there for a bit, waving at the kids on the multi-colored play structure and giving an occasional helping push. I felt a tapping on my leg and I looked down. A boy with a red striped t-shirt looked up at me and raised his arms wanting to be picked up. I was nervous but I wondered when I would have this experience again. I washed away my fears and picked him up. His legs locked around my torso and his arms around my neck. He looked at me, smiled, and nuzzled his head into my chest. I felt an overwhelming sense of love radiating from this kid who’s name I didn’t even know. I carried him around for a while, having him point where he wanted to go. I was his Sherpa. Finally, I got a bit tired and let him down. I didn’t have time to stand up before the kid ran around to my back and jumped on. I ran through a gauntlet of trees and bushes with him on my back. He was the human and I was his robotic suit. Eventually, when I put the kid with the red t-shirt down a group of kids ran up to me. I became a grey ubunye shirt wearing jungle gym, for up to four kids at a time. I toured them around their playground at speeds previously unreachable to them. Finally, the time came for the kids to line up and go back to their classes. I waved and said my goodbyes, high fiving as many as I could.
I don’t think I stopped smiling the entire time.

Nervousness and awkwardness were the emotions I felt as I took my first steps into the Philani classroom of boys and girls ages 4-5. As I opened the classroom door, all eyes were on me. Looks of confusion and excitement sparkled through their eyes and in turn lit mine up. They sang, they danced, and they laughed while their teacher led them through their daily activities. The kids were anxious to come and see us and play, but they stay focused and did their activities. Then, in an instant the teacher left, leaving the three of us, Indigo, Aimee, and me, alone with about 20-25 kids. As soon as that door shut, and the teacher wasn’t in site, I was stormed by so many kids I couldn’t count. I lifted one little girl, bringing her to touch the ceiling, and soon I had to do the same to every other kid. From this moment on, I was under full attack. I found myself on the ground with kids climbing all over my body, laughing and aggressively wrestling. When our time in the classroom ran out we sadly left and waited outside with the big smiles on our faces. Luckily, soon recess was announced!!!
All the kids were let out to play. As I ran through the playground tickling kids, picking them up, pushing them on swings, helping them on the monkey bars, doing all the fun things you could think of, something caught my eye. One little boy was following me, grabbing onto my shirt. I turned and looked down at him, as soon as our eyes connected laughter burst out of his mouth and he jumped on me. I stood up, realizing that he had grabbed onto me. He managed to crawl all the way up my back, reached my shoulders and sat on them. From that moment on, I knew that this kid was going to be special to me. He took my hat and threw it on his head, even though it was ten sizes too big for him. He screamed with laughter, thinking that this was so funny. He yelled for me to run across the playground and then turn around and run back where we started. I spent the whole recess with him on my shoulders, running all over the place. I think I felt the happiest I have been in my whole life. We both smiled, laughed, and had so much fun together.
Soon our time together came to an end. We took pictures and I taught him how to do the one and only, “shaka” with his hands. As I took him off my back he looked at me and gave me the biggest and tightest hug I’ve ever received. Then he walked away and at the last second turned around made eye contact with me and threw me a “shaka.” He then smiled and walked to his classroom. I will forever remember this moment, and this boy. I hope he does too.

Today I knew that I wanted to play with children. Luckily, I was one of the first to enthusiastically raise my hand and was picked to go hang out with the kids. Indigo, Brigg, and I went to the 3-4-year-old classroom. As soon as I walked through the dark green door I knew it would be like no classroom I would find back home. 25 sets of small eyes turned our way while still happily singing along to a song their teacher was guiding them through. Some exuberantly waved, while others continued to stare shyly. We sat behind them trying not to interrupt their lesson on numbers and colors but that, as we found out very quickly, wasn’t going to happen. First it started with a few of them giving us thumbs up and high fives but soon more and more began doing the same. After lunch, their teacher gave us some free time to play with them. In a matter of seconds Brigg, Indigo, and I were swarmed by the most genuinely happy kids I have ever met. I couldn’t stop myself from smiling. I never knew how happy it would make me to have two kids in my lap, three under my arms, two pulling at my hair, and one particularly excited little boy desperately trying to ram the other kids off my lap so that he could have all my attention to himself. I soon found out that taking a break if I got tired would be impossible. The whole time this was happening they spoke to me telling me new exciting things, or so I assume since I didn’t understand a word they said. This language barrier, though, wasn’t much of a hindrance at all. The smiles, waves, and gestures meant much more than any words ever could. You could really, and fully, feel the love and happiness radiating off them. They didn’t need to explain it with words; you just needed to be in their presence to feel it. I always thought that making them happy would be my biggest accomplishment of the visit but now I know that they are already happy. I didn’t give them happiness, they gave me happiness.



























































