by Simbulele Jezile | Nov 4, 2025 | Campaign
When the phone rings at SADAG’s Crisis Helpline, counsellors never know who’s on the other end, only that it might be someone’s last attempt to hold on.
Sometimes there’s a voice. Sometimes there’s just silence, a pause, a shaky breath, a quiet cry.
And then, softly:
“I don’t know who else to talk to.”
For 31 years, the South African Depression and Anxiety Group (SADAG) has been answering that silence. It’s South Africa’s leading mental health organisation, and the only one running 24-hour suicide helplines, every single day of the year.
Now, during Men’s Mental Health Awareness Month, SADAG is asking South Africans to help them keep those lines open with their campaign, “Answer The Call for Help.”
Every Call Is a Story
Each day, SADAG counsellors answer over 2,500 calls, and one in four is suicide-related. Behind every number is a person in pain, searching for a reason to stay.
“When someone finally speaks, you can feel the weight in their voice,” says a SADAG Call Centre Manager, Tracy Feinstein. “There’s fear, shame, exhaustion… but also a flicker of relief. That’s when we tell them, ‘You’ve done the right thing by calling. You’re not alone.’”
Those words, simple, human, steady, can be the difference between despair and hope. Sometimes, they are the first words a caller has heard all week that sound like care.
“A Missed Call Can Mean a Missed Life”
What happens if no one answers?
“For many, that call is the moment they finally reach out. If no one picks up, that courage can turn into hopelessness. A missed call can mean a missed life.”
That’s why SADAG is urgently raising R180,000 to cover its helpline operating costs for November — the month the world pauses to talk about suicide in men, but the calls never stop coming in.
“On average, it costs R50 to answer one call,” SADAG Development Manager, Fatima Seedat explains. “But that one call might save a father, a sister, a friend. Behind every answered call is training, empathy, and hours of emotional care.”
Why Men Stay Quiet
About half the calls SADAG receives are from men, and many of them say the same thing: “I don’t want my family to think I’m weak.”
Fatima shares that, “Men in South Africa are raised to fix everything but themselves. They’re told not to cry, not to talk, not to break. So when they do finally reach out, they’re terrified.”
That’s why SADAG focuses on making that first call safe. “We remind them that reaching out isn’t weakness, it’s courage,” she says. “The moment they speak, the silence breaks, and healing begins.”
“You Just Saved My Life”
For SADAG’s counsellors, there are moments that never leave them. “After an hour of listening, someone will sometimes whisper, ‘You just saved my life.’”
“It’s the most humbling thing. Because that’s what this work is, listening. Not fixing, not preaching. Just being there when it matters most.”, says Fatima.
A Country Finding Its Voice
In the early 2000s, mental health was barely discussed in South Africa. Now, thanks to decades of advocacy, the conversation is growing louder.
“Before COVID, we received around 800 calls a day,” Fatima says. “Now it’s more than 2,500. People are talking, which means the stigma is breaking.”
But access to care is still scarce. “We’ve made progress, but we need more hands, more hearts, more funding. That’s why this campaign matters so much.”
“If Every South African Gave R50…”
Every call costs roughly R50 to answer — the price of a cup of coffee. “If every South African gave just R50, we could answer thousands more calls,” Fatima says. “Imagine that — thousands of people finding someone who says, ‘How can I support you?.’”
To make that vision a reality, SADAG has launched a BackaBuddy crowdfunding campaign to raise R180,000, the amount needed to keep its Suicide Crisis Helplines open throughout the month.
So far, 23 compassionate supporters have already contributed over R12 000, helping SADAG get closer to its goal. Each donation — no matter the size — keeps a counsellor on the line and ensures that when a call for help comes in, it never goes unanswered.
Because that’s what SADAG has been doing for 31 years: reminding South Africans that no one should ever face silence alone.
Join the movement by donating to SADAG on BackaBuddy:
https://www.backabuddy.co.za/campaign/answer-the-call-for-hope
by Tessa Van Rensberg | Oct 28, 2025 | Campaign
Andrew Russell (61) from Cape Town, Western Cape
For as long as he can remember, sport has been more than just a game for Andrew Russell – it’s been a language of hope, connection, and opportunity. Today, as the director and co-founder of sport4kids, Andrew has dedicated nearly two decades to ensuring that children from underserved communities can experience that same joy and belonging that the power of sport brought into his own life.
Through sport4kids, a non-profit organisation he started in 2006 with David and Jenny MacGregor, Andrew is helping rewrite the stories of children who might otherwise have been left on the sidelines. Their mission is simple yet profound: to give every child a chance to play – regardless of their financial background.
From the Field to the Heart
Andrew’s love for sport began in his early school days.
“I played everything I could – cricket, rugby, you name it,” he recalls fondly.
After studying, he spent eight years teaching and coaching at a high school before venturing into sports tourism. In 2000, he founded Cape Africa Tours, bringing sports teams from around the world to South Africa.
It was during these tours that Andrew began noticing a heartbreaking reality.
“Many of the local kids had incredible talent but no access – no kit, no coaching, and often, no transport,” he says.
Visiting teams would sometimes leave behind their equipment, and Andrew would distribute it to local schools. But the need was far greater than a few extra cricket bats or soccer balls. That realisation sparked the birth of sport4kids.
Since its founding, the organisation has helped hundreds of children participate in sports by providing them with equipment, uniforms, and access to coaching.
“We’ve seen shy, uncertain kids transform into confident young athletes,” Andrew explains. “Sport teaches teamwork, resilience, and belief – lessons that last long after the final whistle.”
A Vehicle of Hope
One of the organisation’s proudest moments came in 2016 when Westminster Under School in London raised funds for a 14-seater Toyota Quantum – a vehicle that became the beating heart of the programme.
“That van has transported countless children to practices, matches, and tournaments they otherwise would have missed,” says Andrew. “Without it, hundreds of fixtures would simply not have happened.”
But sustaining this vital service has become increasingly difficult. Rising fuel costs, maintenance fees, and the need for more sports gear have stretched their resources thin.
“Right now, we’re in urgent need of support to keep the vehicle running and ensure no child misses their shot at playing,” he adds.
In June 2025, Andrew launched a crowdfunding campaign on BackaBuddy, aptly titled ‘The Power of Sport’, to raise R250,000 for kits, equipment, and vehicle maintenance. So far, 10 donors have contributed R5,783.50, but the journey ahead remains long.
Yet Andrew remains hopeful.
“Every small donation truly helps,” he says. “A cricket bat or soccer ball might seem small, but for a child who’s never owned one, it means the world.”
Sport as a Lifeline for Mental Health
Beyond the physical benefits, Andrew believes sport has the power to nurture mental well-being and community belonging – something especially vital for South African youth.
“Sport gives kids a purpose, a sense of identity,” he explains. “It keeps them off the streets, away from dangerous paths, and helps them believe they belong to something bigger than themselves.”
He recalls one story that has stayed with him over the years: a young boy named Nathan, who received a scholarship to attend Plumstead High School through sport4kids.
“Nathan was sport-crazy and full of potential,” says Andrew proudly. “Today, he’s involved in coaching and giving back to other young athletes – proof of how the ripple effect of opportunity can change lives.”
For Andrew, these moments make every challenge worth it. “When a parent comes up to you after a match, with tears in their eyes, thanking you for believing in their child – that’s when you realise this work matters,” he says.
The Future: Building Champions On and Off the Field
Looking ahead, Andrew envisions a thriving network of empowered children and communities who see sport not as a luxury, but as a right.
“In ten years, I hope sport4kids will be bigger, stronger, and reaching even more schools across South Africa,” he says. “I don’t ever want to see another talented child sit out simply because they couldn’t afford to play.”
He also expresses deep gratitude to those who have already supported the cause.
“We’re incredibly thankful to everyone who’s donated and cheered us on thus far,” he says. “You’re not just funding sport – you’re giving kids hope, structure, and a reason to dream.”
As Nelson Mandela once said, “Sport has the power to change the world.” For Andrew Russell and his team, those words aren’t just a quote – they’re a calling.
Keeping the Power of Sport Alive
For many children in Cape Town, sport4kids isn’t just about games – it’s about belonging, confidence, and healing. The organisation’s impact extends far beyond the playing field, fostering community, inclusion, and positive mental health.
Through his BackaBuddy campaign, Andrew hopes that more South Africans will recognise how even the smallest act of generosity can spark enormous change. “It doesn’t take a lot to make a difference,” he says. “Every bit counts – and together, we can keep the power of sport alive.”
To support Andrew and sport4kids, visit their BackaBuddy campaign link here:
👉 https://www.backabuddy.co.za/campaign/the-power-of-sport
Share their story and help bring the joy of sport – and hope – to more children across South Africa.
by Tessa Van Rensberg | Sep 11, 2025 | Campaign, Featured
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.
To support this amazing cause visit: https://www.backabuddy.co.za/campaign/save-lives-suicide-prevention-in-sa
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by Zane Groenewald | Sep 10, 2025 | Campaign, Featured
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.
To support Dave visit his BackaBuddy campaign link here:
https://www.backabuddy.co.za/campaign/hope-powers-dave
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by Tessa Van Rensberg | Sep 10, 2025 | Campaign, Featured
On 17 September, Hout Bay therapist, coach and wilderness guide, Penelope van Maasdyk, will set out across northern Spain to walk up to 1,000km on the Camino de Santiago—linking the Del Norte, the Primitivo and sections of the Via de la Plata—by 30 October. Her mission, Walking for Mental Health, is to offer free on-trail coaching, walk-and-talk support, and craniosacral therapy to fellow pilgrims processing grief, change or trauma, while raising R55,000 to keep the journey safe and simple. Since launching her crowdfund on 5 August 2025, supporters have given R18,900 offline and R3,883 online—with six donors already stepping in. A QR code on her backpack will let anyone book time to walk beside her, talk, breathe, and begin again.
Why Walk, Why Now
Penelope is deeply attuned to people. Clients describe a listener who notices what’s said, what’s unsaid, and what the body is whispering. She speaks frankly about surviving childhood sexual abuse, depression and years of silence that bred shame. Naming her story, she says, loosened its grip—and shaped her vow to create safe, stigma-free spaces where it’s okay not to be okay.
“Life happens in spirals,” she says. “We meet old pain as new selves.”
The Camino called to that vow. One cold evening, watching The Salt Path, the clarity landed:
“I had my answer to all the things that weren’t aligned … I had to walk. Why? Because that’s what I have always done through all the tough times in my life.”
With limited time, she chose a demanding route: Irún to Bilbao along the hilly coast; Santander to Oviedo to join the ancient, forested Primitivo; then a bus to Sevilla or Mérida to meet the Via de la Plata and walk north as far as Ourense—or the calendar allows. Her aim is simple: be a steady presence, a regulated nervous system others can borrow, a companion who will walk as long as it takes.
Therapy on the Move – A Day on the Camino
Days begin in the soft shuffle of headlamps and zips at 5:30am. Penelope with intention, steps into the dark, and walks toward sunrise. Eucalyptus breath drifts from wet groves; salt rides in from the Bay of Biscay; a bakery’s first loaves send warm air into the lane. Way-markers flash yellow; shells clack on backpacks; bells call from unseen chapels. Around 7am she pauses at a lookout to mix her plant-based superfoods—vital for a vegan in rural Spain—before walking on through quiet hours that invite conversation or silence.
Some days are solitary; some are full of encounters. On her last Camino she met “Susie,” raw after a breakup and tangled in shame. They walked, rested, talked. Movement softened the edges; coaching gave language and tools. They still check in years later.
“Connection rewires shame,” Penelope says. “And walking makes truth easier to speak.”
Afternoons end at an albergue—a simple pilgrim hostel—where stories braid over sinks and supper. She never imposes therapy; she offers it. A scan of the QR code sets up a few hours of walk-and-talk the next day, or a quiet craniosacral session for nervous-system regulation. Her pack stays as light as she can manage (about 20% of her body weight), feet are slathered each morning with shea butter and massaged at night with arnica oil, and boundaries hold firm so she can hold others. Short videos on Instagram and YouTube will share the road so supporters can see the work unfold in real time.
Read Penelope’s blog on Camino symbols and what they’ve mean to her here
The Night She Almost Quit
There was a day she pushed close to 50km, much of it uphill through dripping forest. Supplies ran low; her period began; the last 15km offered no water, no café, only mud and roots. By dusk she limped into a hilltop village, only to hear the words every pilgrim dreads: “We’re full.” She slid to the floor and wept—spent, shaking, empty. A caretaker crouched, helped her off with her shoes, found a shower and a cushion, then an extra mattress at the town hall for the night.
Ten hours of dreamless sleep later, Penelope stepped into a pearly rain, following a mossed aqueduct with strangers who had become a community of the trail. Giving up wasn’t an option; there was only forward. That night is why she trusts this path to hold people when their own strength is gone.
Who she is matters as much as what she’s studied (integral coaching, craniosacral therapy, meditation/yoga, wilderness guiding) or where she’s worked (investment banking and consulting, NGO social development, writing).
Penelope(left) guiding a small group on a hike
Those chapters expanded her view: trauma is trauma, whether you wear a suit or sleep rough. Her promise on this pilgrimage is to listen without fixing, to sit with the hard, to be the calm in someone else’s storm.
Penelope’s therapy room in my Hout Bay Garden surrounded my Milkwood trees, birds and squirrels
What your support makes possible: a transparent, modest budget—ZAR12,000 flights (already covered offline via therapy-voucher sales); ZAR8,000 gear (ZAR6,500 sponsored); ZAR5,000 internal travel; ZAR20,000 accommodation; ZAR10,000 food & sundries (including a ZAR400 boost from Soaring Free Superfoods). Shout-outs to the friends who funded her Patagonia waterproof jacket and T-Rockets hiking sandals, and to psychologist Rick Hanson, who gifted a course on grief and loss. Every rand buys a bed after 30–40km, a simple meal, a bus between trailheads, and the data so a struggling pilgrim can find her.
Penelope’s future dreams are big, and she plans to seed monthly Cape Town wellness walks, donation-based community hikes and corporate nature immersions that will subsidise at-risk youth programs—movement medicine for a city that needs it.
If you or someone you love needs support today, please reach out to SADAG Suicide Crisis Helpline: 0800 567 567 (WhatsApp 076 882 2775 / 087 163 2030). You are not alone.
Call to action
To support Penelope van Maasdyk visit their BackaBuddy campaign link here
More information can be found on Penelope’s website where you can find many helpful mental health resources and enquire about booking a session with Penelope.
Please share her story with friends, family, and colleagues—the more people who know, the more companions she’ll meet on the path.
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