The 10th of September—World Suicide Prevention Day—South Africa must face a crisis we often avoid. Lino Muller(49), CEO of SafeTalk, is asking us to answer with compassion and action: training teachers, parents and community leaders to spot warning signs, ask brave, caring questions and connect people to life-saving help. By prying open the silence, he’s starting a healing movement where children can speak and adults feel equipped to hold the big, scary word “suicide” with steadiness. To keep this work moving, he’s launched a community crowdfunding initiative so that the hope that SafeTalk delivers to so many can keep moving forward.
The person behind SafeTalks
Lino speaks English, Afrikaans, German and conversational Sesotho, shaped by a life moving between South Africa, Lesotho and Austria. He keeps grounded with exercise, connected breathing and quiet reading—but what steadies him most is the courage he witnesses in ordinary rooms.
“Every session becomes an ‘aha’ moment,” he says. “People who have hidden their pain for years finally feel safe to speak.”
Twenty-five years ago, Lino’s brother died by suicide—an experience that taught him how stigma fuels silence.
“One of the strongest myths around suicide is that it’s selfish,” he reflects. “In reality, it’s the opposite. People who reach that point often believe their loved ones would be better off without them.”
Determined to change this narrative, Lino founded SafeTalk(2024) in Johannesburg, Gauteng, drawing on international best practice while tailoring the content to South African realities where resources are scarce and the need is great. SafeTalk’s focus is practical: awareness, anti-stigma education, and community training that equips ordinary people to notice distress, open a safe conversation, and connect someone to professional care.
What does a SafeTalks Workshop look like?
Inside a three- to four-hour SafeTalk workshop, participants practise how to ask directly about suicide in a safe way, listen without judgement, and guide a person to support.
“People leave feeling more confident to recognise the signs,” Lino says.
At a large primary school, a principal assured Lino there were “no mental-health issues” because discipline was strict. Lino invited 200 learners to stand, then to sit if a statement resonated: Have you ever gone without food? Do you have problems you can’t talk about? Do you feel ashamed sharing your struggles? By the third question, every learner was seated. He then asked them—anonymously—to write one thing they would never tell anyone. As he read a handful aloud, the room heard stories of self-harm, anxiety, depression and suicidal thoughts. The principal wept. In private, she thanked Lino and said her approach would change. It was a stark, compassionate awakening: even where adults believe “there are no problems,” young people are carrying heavy, hidden burdens. SafeTalk exists to make those burdens visible—and bearable—by giving communities safe language, clear steps and real pathways to support.
Why the work of SafeTalks is so important
Official figures suggest around 14,000 South Africans die by suicide each year—already a national emergency—and frontline experience shows many cases go unreported. The pain isn’t confined to teens; middle-aged adults are increasingly at risk too, often under the same roof. That’s the hard truth. The hopeful truth is just as real: when even one trained person is present in a school, clinic or workplace, the chances of someone reaching out rise dramatically. SafeTalk’s three-to-four-hour workshops turn fear into readiness—so the next time a learner whispers “I’m not okay,” someone nearby knows what to do.
“World Suicide Prevention Day is about more than awareness,” he says. “It is a call to end the silence, to see each other fully, and to create communities where no one feels invisible in their pain.”
SafeTalk is based in Johannesburg but also runs online workshops nationwide and travels where resources allow, ensuring access for communities that rarely receive specialised training, and in turn hope for those who didn’t know speaking out was ok.
What R150,000 makes possible
Lino has carried roughly 98% of costs himself to date—training sessions, support groups, transport, venues, even borrowing equipment—because the need outpaced the funding. The BackaBuddy campaign seeks R150,000 to keep doors open and widen the circle of care:
Training for teachers, parents, community leaders (and, as resources grow, nurses and police).
Educational materials & awareness that reduce stigma and spread simple, lifesaving steps.
Outreach to under-resourced and rural areas where help is scarcest.
Dignity support—food, clothing and care—so conversations about mental health can land where stomachs aren’t empty.
Every rand turns into seats in a room, pages in a hand, fuel in a car, and—most importantly—confidence to speak out. As of now, early donors have contributed, and the gap to the goal is where you can make the difference.
A word from the CEO of LifeTalk himself
When we asked Lino what he would say to someone who felt like a burden he replied:
“You are not a burden. You matter. You’ve been carrying something heavy alone for too long—please reach out. One small step, one conversation, can start to lift that weight.”
For families, peers and colleagues, his advice is practical: show up, listen without judgement, check in again tomorrow, and help connect a person to care. Immediate Support For immediate support, South Africans can contact the SADAG Suicide Crisis Line on 0800 567 567, or WhatsApp 076 882 2775 / 087 163 2030. With steady backing, SafeTalk plans to complement these services with its own call-centre capacity to meet growing demand.
Conclusion
A once-off or recurring donation means more schools reached, more adults equipped, more children heard before harm. But the movement is bigger than money. Hope starts with one conversation: today, ask your classmate, your colleague, the shop attendant, the woman waiting for a taxi, “How are you—really?” A simple question can provide hope and maybe even save a life, because we are not meant to walk it alone. If you would like to book a workshop or find out more about SafeTalk, visit Safetalk.
Call to Action
Here’s how you can help today in 3 steps:
Share this story with friends, family and online communities.
Support with volunteer time, venues, printing, transport or food parcels.
Donate—every rand counts and directly powers training, support groups and outreach.
Pictured above: Nickey Seger, Dave Spurgeon and Grant Clack.
Nickey Seger (52) from Roodekrans, Gauteng, is no stranger to standing by those she loves. But when her friend Dave Spurgeon (65) from Bryanston, Sandton, was diagnosed with throat cancer in July 2025, she knew she needed to do something extraordinary to help.
Within days of hearing the news, Nickey and her partner, Grant Clack (63), launched the Hope Powers Dave campaign on BackaBuddy. Their mission: to raise R500,000 so Dave can begin urgent chemotherapy and radiation. To inspire support, they committed to running 21.6 km every day for 30 consecutive days — totalling a staggering 650 km.
“When I heard Dave had throat cancer and no medical aid, my heart just sank. This is the reality for so many South Africans. I just felt the need to make a difference and help him in the best way I know how,” says Nickey.
A Friendship That Sparked Action
Nickey met Dave about 18 months ago at a friend’s birthday party, and in that short time, their bond has grown into a strong friendship. What struck her most was Dave’s humility and kindness. Despite his own hardships — including losing his medical aid when he was retrenched during Covid — Dave has always been generous and supportive of others.
“Dave is thoughtful, compassionate, and giving. He has often taken people under his wing, offering guidance, support, and encouragement,” says Dianne, his partner’s sister. “He has truly added value to those around him.”
For Nickey, standing on the sidelines wasn’t an option.
“I believe we are stronger together. Anyone can make a difference — and if my running can give Dave a fighting chance, then every step is worth it,” she says.
“Time is not on our side, which is why this campaign is so important,” explains Nickey. “The funds will go directly to covering Dave’s urgent medical needs and giving him a chance at recovery.”
Community of Care
For Nickey, this journey is about more than fundraising — it’s about proving the power of community. The campaign has drawn messages of encouragement from near and far, with friends describing Dave as fun-loving, dependable, and deeply devoted to his family.
“He’s been more than a friend — he’s family,” says Dick Roberts, who has known Dave for 30 years. “His humour, energy, and love for his daughters make him someone truly special.”
Nickey hopes their story will inspire others to get involved.
“Every donation, no matter the size, and every share of the campaign helps. Together, we can make sure Dave gets the treatment he urgently needs,” she says.
Matthew James Barrett (25) from Sunninghill, Johannesburg is just 13 flying hours away from completing his Private Pilot’s Licence (PPL) — the crucial milestone toward becoming a commercial pilot. A full-time cabin crew member and dedicated student pilot, Matthew has already logged 31 hours, made significant sacrifices, and kept his dream alive through years of disciplined effort. But while determination has carried him this far, the cost of training now threatens to keep his wings on the ground.
A dream rooted in his grandfather’s legacy and his mother’s sacrifices
Matthew’s love for aviation began with his grandfather, who served in the Air Force and later trained at Grand Central Airport — the same Midrand airfield where Matthew now flies.
“My passion for aviation was sparked by my grandpa,” he says. “He was in the Air Force and later did his PPL at Grand Central. As a kid, I remember going to the library with him, looking at books about planes, and listening to his stories. The moment I truly knew I wanted to fly was when I would spend time with him. Now, being based at the same airfield he flew from is incredibly special to me. I can’t wait to take him up for a flight once I’m done.”
From the outset, Matthew knew this journey would demand more than talent. He has worked full-time while studying, squeezing in flight hours between shifts and cutting expenses to the bone. He sold his car to reduce costs, lives on the bare minimum, and even uses gym reward points to help cover electricity at home. At 25, while many peers spend weekends unwinding, he trades leisure for the cockpit — one lesson at a time.
Behind him stands his mother, Joanne, who raised Matthew and his sister Tiffany as a single parent.
“From the moment Matthew was a little boy, he was a force of nature,” she says. “He was always kind, determined, and never gave up on what he wanted. I’ve seen him excel in sports, in CrossFit, and now in flying — he was born to fly. This dream is a family one. We’ve all made sacrifices to get him here, and I know he wants this not just for himself, but to give back to his family one day.”
A dream grounded by cost — and lifted again by community generosity
Flying is not only demanding; it’s expensive. Every hour in the training aircraft costs R3,500 plus a landing fee, and Matthew must still cover his remaining hours, exams, and final skills test. Beyond that, the cost of a Commercial Pilot’s Licence looms at close to R850,000 — a daunting number for a young man already stretched to his limits.
For many young people, the biggest barrier isn’t passion or ability; it’s funding.
“I applied for bursaries, reached out to companies, and tried every option,” Matthew says. “When nothing worked, I realised I couldn’t continue this journey alone. The support I’ve received so far has been truly inspiring and given me the hope and strength to carry on.”
Twelve days after launching his crowdfunding campaign, 31 donors have contributed more than R49,000 toward his R500,000 target.
Every contribution “literally translates into minutes in the air,” he says — covering outstanding flight hours, exam and licence fees, ground briefings, aircraft hire for the skills test, and transport to and from training.
For Matthew, crossing this finish line is about more than a licence. It honours his family’s sacrifices, carries his grandfather’s story forward, and opens the door to mentoring new pilots who don’t know where to begin.
And he has a message for every child who looks up at a passing plane and dreams of one day flying it: “There is no feeling more surreal than defying gravity and seeing the world from a different perspective. Feed that passion and never stop working and learning. You will have to make sacrifices, but in the end, it will all be worth it.”
With 13 hours to go, Matthew’s future in aviation now sits with the public to lift him higher — whether that’s a few minutes in the air or a full hour that gets him closer to the flight deck.
In July and August 2025, Nikita Van Rensburg (32) and her brother, Ricki Van Rensburg (38) rallied support for the Gatjie settlement (Cape Town) with a winter shoe drive and a follow-on crowdfunding initiative that is already changing daily life. The first drive launched on 17 July 2025, raising R21,500 and—together with sponsors—turning a hired hall into a day of dignity with hot meals and brand-new sneakers for children who’d been walking barefoot through winter mud. On 18 August 2025, she launched a second recurring donations campaign that has raised R22,500 so far toward a R200,000 goal to keep food on the table and repair leaking shacks. In total, 18 donors have given across both campaigns, including two anonymous R10,000 donations in the first three days, and many more partners have contributed goods, time, and heart. A surprise video call from Springbok captain Siya Kolisi on the day of the shoe drive also became a powerful spark for courage and belonging for the community of Gatjie.
A legacy of love, carried forward
“In 2018, my mom started handing out hot meals on a field in Diep River,” Nikita says. “She built deep relationships with the Gatjie community—hosting Christmas parties and fundraising for school supplies. She loved them, and they loved her back.”
When their mom passed away from a brain tumor, Nikita and Ricki promised to carry that legacy forward. The promise quickly turned into action: before a recent storm, they replaced roofs on a handful of shacks using their own funds.
“One elderly husband stepped inside to see the dry floor and collapsed, sobbing with relief. I’ll never forget that,” she recalls.
That moment—simple, human, unforgettable—captures the heartbeat of the campaign: practical love that keeps families warm, dry, and fed. It’s also why gestures like Siya Kolisi’s call matter so much—seeing a national captain show up for Gatjie tells every child their story is worth showing up for, too.
The August shoe drive answered an urgent need. Through a contact at Adidas, more than 80 pairs of brand-new sneakers arrived. New Balance added R10,000 and three pairs of socks per person—hundreds of pairs—so feet would stay warm and dry on muddy footpaths. With the funds raised online and meals donated locally, the team fitted little feet, served steaming plates, and reminded families that they are seen. All content and photographs from the shoe-drive event were captured and donated pro bono by Cape Town creative Ramon Mellett (Instagram: @ramonmellett).
“Some kids cried with happiness,” Nikita says. “One boy keeps his shoes in the box after school, so they stay nice.”
From shoes to shelter and supper
Shoes were the start, not the finish line. Cape Town’s winter rains turn thin, rusted roofs into sieves; mattresses, blankets, and clothing stay wet for days.
“We’ve made a priority list of homes needing repairs,” Nikita explains. “It costs about R2,500 to replace a roof, and some homes just need patchwork.”
Food is another urgent need. When storms close soup kitchens, children go to bed hungry.
“I’ll never forget a 3-year-old dipping her lollipop in water and saying it made her feel more full—because that day, they could only afford the lollipop.”
The plan now is year-round: provide meals, fix roofs, and host regular kids’ days filled with play, learning, and love—safe spaces where children can simply be children. The funds raised will go directly to food, clothing and blankets, and the materials and labour needed to repair shacks so families can sleep without fear that the roof will collapse.
Women’s Month, dignity and dreams
This Women’s Month, the work took on special meaning. On the day of the shoe handout, the children received a surprise video call from Springbok captain Siya Kolisi. He spoke courage into a young boy who’d been bullied; that night the child told his mom he was going to dream about meeting his hero. Even one of the bully’s moms came forward to apologise afterwards.
“The kids kept asking why Siya would speak to them,” Nikita says. “They need to know they matter—that where they come from isn’t something to be ashamed of.”
Girls also left with more than footwear. The Cora Project joined to run a pad drive and a powerful conversation about periods, confidence, and choice. They offered discreet bags for carrying pads—yet several girls chose to walk out holding their pads in hand, proudly. For Nikita, moments like these echo her mother’s heart: show up, feed people, and restore dignity.
Why this campaign matters now Gatjie is a small settlement with big hearts—and daily hurdles. Without sturdy shoes, children slog through sand and mud just to reach communal toilets; without intact roofs, families take turns sleeping for fear of collapse. Hunger makes it hard to learn; lacking basics erodes confidence. And yet the resilience is unmistakable.
“You can show up with nothing but yourself,” Nikita says, “and the kids will run to you for hugs.” Her long-term hope is clear: “I want to see at least one child from Gatjie grow up, leave the settlement, and be able to support their family. We can get there with nutrition, school supplies, sport, and connection.”
How you can help Every contribution stretches far: R2,500 can put a dry roof over a family; any amount helps fund weekly meals, clothing and blanket drops, and the next kids’ day. Corporate partners can donate shoes, socks, roofing materials, or food. Volunteers can cook, deliver, mentor—or simply show up. To connect about goods or time, reach Nikita on Instagram at @triggrGood. If you want to give right now, both campaign pages are live: the winter shoe drive here:https://www.backabuddy.co.za/campaign/winter-shoe-drive-for-the-gatjie-kids and the ongoing support drive here:https://www.backabuddy.co.za/campaign/helping-the-gatjie-community-together.
In just weeks, these efforts have raised R31,500 in cash—plus generous in-kind donations—and built a blueprint for hope that is practical, personal, and profoundly local. It looks like a dry mattress, a warm bowl of food, a pair of laces tied tight—and a child who believes tomorrow can be better than today.
If you’ve ever wondered what Ubuntu means—this is it. And this initiative is calling on the African spirit, and you, to climb on board and get involved.
Mama Dolly, 71, from Masoyi, Mpumalanga, embodies the very essence of hope for children facing adversity in her rural community. For nearly a decade, she has run Phathekani Kahle After Care—a sanctuary where impoverished youngsters find support, education, and a sense of belonging. Today, her tireless work is under threat: the pit latrines (or the old-school “long drop,” as South Africans call them) are unsanitary and risk closure by the health department. As South Africa observes Women’s Month, Mama Dolly shines as a beacon of female leadership and resilience, inspiring women everywhere with her unwavering dedication.
Alexa first connected with Mama Dolly thr
ough her Gogo Theresa Banda—after witnessing the remarkable strides Dolly made with Gogo Theresa’s grandson, Fortune (Alexa contributes towards young Fortune’s school fees). When Mama Dolly reached out for a little extra help to renovate the toilets on the brink of shutdown, Alexa sprang into action, launching a BackaBuddy campaign one month ago to raise R 45 500 for vital upgrades.
A Lifelong Calling to Serve
After spending over 35 years shaping young minds as a primary school teacher, Mama Dolly felt a deep pull to keep serving her community even after retirement. Born into a Tsonga family and raised in Johannesburg, she endured the loss of her mother and sister and weathered unsupportive guardians—but her faith never wavered. In December 2015, she officially registered Phathekani Kahle After Care with the Department of Social Development, transforming a modest room beside the RR358 (Numbi Road) between White River and Hazyview into a safe haven. There, children—many raised by grandparents or living in dire circumstances—gather each day for academic support, a hot meal, and the kind of encouragement only someone with Mama Dolly’s passion can provide.
Her work is driven by the conviction that every child deserves a chance to succeed, regardless of background.
One afternoon, she remembers, a little boy came running, eyes shining, and cried, “Gogo Dolly, I can read and write now!”—a moment she said “healed my soul” and reaffirmed her conviction that education has the power to transform lives.
Building Dignity, One Toilet at a Time
Pit latrines pose serious safety hazards—even Mama Dolly recounts heartbreaking accounts of children slipping into the deep pits. Unsanitary and exposed, these facilities risk injury and infection. Without modern flushing toilets, Phathekani Kahle cannot secure a health certificate, threatening its very existence and leaving 40 vulnerable children without their safe haven.
A Community Rises Together
To date, 31 generous donors have contributed R 29,000 on the BackaBuddy platform as well as R 12,000 in generous offline donations toward the R 45 500 goal. Local businesses have pledged discounted materials, former students volunteer labor, and taxi drivers collect spare change. Teachers at Phathekani Kahle often go months without pay, fueled only by passion and the children’s need. The youngsters themselves buzz with excitement at the thought of clean, dependable facilities and uninterrupted classes.
“For years, we knocked on many doors seeking assistance and faced countless setbacks,” Mama Dolly reflects. “This is the first time we’ve received a donation—and for us, it is an answered prayer.” Her gratitude has rippled through Masoyi: elders share her story at church, and the traditional council has approved building plans, awaiting only final measurements.
Donations will first repair and upgrade the toilets. If the campaign exceeds its target, further funds will install a borehole—a reliable water source that eliminates costly water purchases, ensures year-round flush capability, and grants the school much-needed independence. Additional contributions could also cover ceiling and floor tiling, and secure fencing around the property.
Mama Dolly’s steadfast faith and relentless compassion have made Phathekani Kahle After Care more than a tutoring center—it is a symbol of hope for children written off by circumstance. With renovated toilets, a future borehole, and improved facilities, she can continue breaking educational barriers and restoring confidence. Yet many needs remain: stipends for devoted teachers, textbooks and uniforms for learners, reliable transport from remote homesteads, and essential teaching materials to enrich lessons. As community support grows during this Women’s Month and beyond, so does the promise of a brighter future for every child at Phathekani Kahle.
To keep supporting Mama Dolly’s vital work and brighten futures at Phathekani Kahle After Care, please consider making a recurring donation—every contribution directly empowers students and dedicated teachers, and continually multiplies hope.
