Meet Hilda Madonsela, the founder of Ekuphumuleni Home Of Peace, located at Orange Farm, Gauteng.

Hilda is a woman who makes a difference every day – and at She Evolves, we call people like Hilda “Changemakers” because they are the few people who work hard everyday to serve their communities. Hilda is a single mom of five, but despite all the many other responsibilities at home, she still finds time to help others in her community.

When our changemakers met her through our 1000 Stories, 100 1000 Trees project, she planted a tree and named it Stefanie, after one of the children she has cared for over the years. That tree is more than just a plant, it’s a symbol of hope for her and her community.

Hilda started an NGO in 2020 called Peace Daycare Centre. What began as a small daycare has grown into a safe place for children and families in need. She helps lost kids, feeds hungry families, and gives shelter to mothers and children affected by Gender Based Violence (GBV). She doesn’t have much, but she always shares what she can.

Now, she’s working on something even bigger, an orphanage centre for children with no one to care for them. She bought land opposite her home in Orange Farm and has followed the formal process and protocols by reaching out to the Social Development Office and the SAPS which is the police department at Orange Farm. But, like every other NGOs, she needs assistance to continue building the centre.

Hilda doesn’t ask for much in return. She just wants to see kids in her community thrive. That’s why the Stefanie tree matters, in many ways, it is a tree of hope… as it grows, we pray and hope that the centre/orphanage will also be growing with it.

If you’d like to support her, anything helps, clothes, food, school supplies, or even just sharing her story. Together, we can help Hilda keep changing lives through Ekuphumuleni Home Of Peace centre.

Because when people like Hilda plant seeds of kindness, whole communities grow stronger. To hear more about her story, please watch the clip below or reach out to her.

Facebook and Instagram: Ekuphumeleni Home Of Peace Or Neo Esther 

The post Meet Hilda Madonsela, The Founder Of Ekuphumuleni Home Of Peace appeared first on Sheevolves.world.

My name is Geraldine, and this is my story. My journey has been one of immense struggle and faith. I was born and raised in Rustenburg, where my parents ran a business for 18 years. Right from the beginning of my childhood, challenges arose, particularly during my teenage years, leading to a period of rebellion on my part—trying to figure out who I am and my place in the world. 

In 2008, I got married, and at the same time, I found out I was pregnant. Unfortunately, my marriage became a total wreck due to various difficulties we were experiencing, including racial differences. My ex-husband’s mother was a prominent figure on the church board, and my family disapproved of our relationship, which led to significant issues. As if the mistreatment by family members was not enough, my husband (now ex) became abusive. Despite my efforts to try and make it work, things kept falling apart, and the distance between us increased even more. I made the difficult decision to file for divorce in 2009. However, my circumstances, including the kidnapping of my child, prevented me from attending to the divorce proceedings immediately.

In 2015, I found myself unemployed and hopeless, as if a dark cloud was hovering over my head wherever I went. Although I am not a legal expert, I noticed several errors in my divorce documents, such as misspelt names and incorrect case numbers. Even though I had been legally divorced since 2014, these mistakes prevented me from accessing my pension and other legal rights at that time. I prayed for years for a resolution, and eventually, my prayers were partially answered.

Years later, in December 2019, I returned from working in Port Elizabeth and found a bus ticket and a small amount of money, which allowed me to travel to Rustenburg. Even though the court couldn’t find my ex-husband, I was determined to deal with my legal problems. I asked for legal help, and regardless of the challenges of COVID-19 lockdowns and personal difficulties, I kept working on my case with hope and faith.

During this phase of my life, I faced homelessness and struggled to find a stable living situation. Eventually, I managed to secure a room to squat in, but it was a crowded and uncomfortable space shared with strangers. The limited resources and lack of food made everyday life difficult. After much consideration, I made the tough decision to leave the town I was living in due to the ongoing struggles and safety concerns for both myself and my children.

In 2022, I was featured in a documentary film produced in Rustenburg, where I was chosen as one of 21 South Africans to share my testimony with the world. Later, by the grace of God, we were relocated to KZN, where we continue to pursue our God-given purpose with hope in Christ.

In August 2024, during Women’s Month, I won the Empower Her CADAC South Africa competition through my foundation, Lerato’s Love House NPO, dedicated to supporting the community and sharing hope with others.

The lockdown and personal challenges took a toll on me, but I found peace and joy in helping others. I shared every little thing I had with those in need and took comfort in the support of my faith. Despite being told by lawyers and magistrates that I was emotionally unstable, I remained determined to address the corruption and mistreatment I had faced within the system.

By the grace of God, I was able to remarry in 2022 and found love in a kind, quiet, supportive, and patient spouse. This helped me heal and move forward. In the same year, I received my provident and pension payouts, which we used to establish the NPO shelter in Rustenburg. Since starting the outreach programs and the foundation to assist our community, we have faced various challenges, including recent demolition and illegal evictions, but we remain hopeful. Our focus is on planning for a better future with my partner, children, and the community.

I hope to continue our work with the community through our foundation, “Lerato’s Love House NPO.” We are open to helping others and can be contacted via email or through our foundation’s webpage. Despite the trials, I have never lost faith in God. My journey has taught me courage and the importance of supporting others. I hope to inspire others facing similar struggles. Remember, nothing lasts forever, and your struggles, just like mine, will come to pass. God has plans for you, and you are never alone.

Story by Geraldine

Editor: Mutshidzi Kwinda

If you would like to reach out to Geraldine to assist with the NPO, use the details below:

Contact details:

  geraldine27453944@gmail.com

+27 63 412 2305

Facebook: Geraldine Moatshe

NPO Facebook: Lerato’s Love house NPO

The post Geraldine’s story: From Homelessness, Abuse, and Divorce to finding Love, God and Bringing Hope to others appeared first on Sheevolves.world.

Wow, I married at a very tender age, immediately after secondary school. Then, I quickly gained university admission, having so many dreams of what my life would look like. To my surprise, it turned into a nightmare. My laughter and glow turned to sorrow, pain, anguish, and regret. My happiness was taken from me; my dreams, ambitions, and future plans were all turned upside down. My life for the past 11 to 12 years has been like a movie that I replay and watch in my mind. My partner has always been angry at me, and I don’t know why. I often tried to understand the reasons for the beatings, insults, and humiliation. All I got was, “I deserve it.” He treated me less than a human. But in all, I was trying to look out for my partner, do my home chores, look after the kids, and maintain my normal routine. Still, the violence kept escalating. He would punch and push me down.

I never really had control over anything I was doing. I ran errands for him, not questioning things anymore but doing as I was told. Still, it wasn’t getting better. The violence was very mentally abusive to start with. You know, the restrictions on money, not being allowed to have friends or even family members, not being allowed to go anywhere besides church, the market, or where he wanted me to be. He punched me until I passed out, and he would rush me to the hospital and tell them I complained of feeling signs of typhoid and malaria, which tests would confirm. Or he would get the nurse to come home to administer treatment, giving me a drip and different injections. I didn’t know what I was doing wrong, but I never seemed to do anything right either. Sometimes, I would smile before my kids because I didn’t want them to remember me crying. But other times, I cried a lot because I was in my home but feeling like a stranger and getting choked.

My partner would hit me because the soup was too thick, and when he complained of that, the next time, I would make it a little watery. He would still beat me. Or maybe because I didn’t keep a bucket of water for him in the bathroom to bathe, he would hit me. My God, I became lost and confused. It got to a point where I immediately heard the sound of his car; I began to tremble. Sudden fear would come upon me; I would start to sweat and feel hot urine coming out. It got so bad that I didn’t laugh or smile any more; I was just there. I can remember vividly when I took the chance to save myself. I wholeheartedly wanted to rescue myself and stay alive for my kids I had brought into this world. My partner asked me to leave the house after his usual routine. I moved back to my parents’ house. At the end of 365 days, I was no longer doing my routine like in past years. I could smile because of the little ray of light I could see in my life. Despite those traumas, I could still move on, and that was the best thing that ever happened to me, not just for myself but for my whole family and children.

I wasn’t rushing into a shop and rushing out just in case he might see me because slowly and slowly, I discovered freedom on the other side of fear. I was almost like a child living in an adult’s body, and I decided to define my life and identity. Whether I was pretty or not, whether I was Cinderella or not, whether I had a banging body or not… no one could come and tell me, “Hey B, you look so ugly and lean.” I could never fit into good clothes or look like a drenched chicken. I stopped allowing him or anyone else to validate me. I knew within me from a young age that I loved everyone, but I was betrayed by not finding love in marriage. So, I decided I would weaponize that love. Instead of hating, I would love the fear out of anybody who had fear in them. I would love the fear out of victims, I would love the fear out of survivors who didn’t know how to move on with their traumas, and I would do something to change the narrative. Suddenly, I was in love, and it was my first love other than my children; it was for me.

I tell this story primarily for women and girls who are going through or have been through so much. I discovered that many like me are out there looking for help. I am a representation of people going through so much pain who have nowhere to go. Their parents can’t accommodate them anymore because of shame. All those who are supposed to protect you are not standing up because of what society will say and how it will look at them. I know there are millions of Bethels out there living my old life, who, from one point to another, have experienced or are experiencing the problems I went through. I don’t want that for anybody because when you suffer, you really want to help protect anyone suffering.That’s why I am growing a structure called Royal Bethel Foundation, to help raise our voice against gender-based violence, be it abusive, mental, or physical abuse.Know that it’s very wrong. We are taught that we are supposed to live and die for our partner or understand the situation and manage it and that we have this duty to fulfil for them. But I say that’s not true. It’s not selfish to think about your own life and safety. First, you should talk to someone. There are so many charitable organizations you could reach out to for help. We are here and trying to do the little we can, which we believe will grow to reach out to different places irrespective of tribe, religion, and culture. We are out to serve you.

You can do whatever you put your mind to. I say you deserve to live your life, not just put one foot in front of the other every day to exist. Tomorrow doesn’t exist; you only have today and deserve it. You deserve to leave that situation today, and things will improve. It was terrible for me years back, but my greatest joy is being alive and reaching out to others or putting smiles on faces in the little way I can. I might not be where I want to be yet, but I make intentional steps every day to get to my destination. I am sorry if someone is abusing you. I am sorry if someone has maltreated you. I am sorry if you are struggling with something I don’t know about. I want you to know something: you don’t know what miracles can come out of broken pieces until you give your broken pieces a chance.

Facebook: Royal Bethel Foundation        Instagram: Royal Bethel Foundation 

The post My name is Bethel, and this is my story: From violence to EMERGENCE appeared first on Sheevolves.world.

My name is Mrs. S, and I am married to my husband, Mr. S. I am a 37-year-old coloured woman. I was born and raised in Cape Town but moved to Johannesburg in 2010 during the World Cup. I am the oldest of four sisters. My mom passed away after I got married, and even though I was old enough, it was a difficult time for me. My dad is still alive, but he hasn’t been very involved in our lives since we were kids. He has now moved to an informal settlement in Cape Flats with a girlfriend who is around our age, and things have gone from bad to worse.

2010 was a turning point for me. I came to Joburg for a job opportunity that I got during the World Cup, and I have been living here ever since. I met my husband in late 2010, and things moved very quickly towards marriage. Little did I know that it was the start of a lifetime of troubles. I am married to an abuser, a narcissist, and a very selfish person. We have one son, who is 12 years old. I have stayed in this marriage for the sake of my son, even though many people have urged me to leave. I find it hard to leave because I love him so much, and financially, he provides the lifestyle that I have become accustomed to, albeit with abuse. His mother supports his behaviour and gives reasons why he should keep treating me this way.

I studied office administration and have had a few contract opportunities, but I haven’t been able to secure a permanent position. I am financially dependent on him, and despite his abusive behaviour, he does have a positive side. He has improved my life materially, but he is a narcissist, and everything revolves around him. I have become more of a servant to him because it’s his way or the highway.

I joined an organization for gender-based violence, and it has helped me to heal and understand that I am indeed in an abusive relationship. The counselling sessions have been helpful, and I am slowly regaining my confidence and strength to leave this relationship while I am still alive.

I have chosen to remain anonymous, but I hope that my story reaches many and helps enlighten others. Abuse is real, and women must stand firm and lead the way.

The post “I am married to an abuser, a narcissist, and a very selfish person” appeared first on Sheevolves.world.

I have dedicated my life to helping people understand childhood trauma, redefine their perception of behaviour, and make tangible changes in their approaches. There’s truth and growth in pain, but only if it is brought out into the open. This is my story. I have often avoided my past, but I am constantly aware of how it informs my future. I have learned about how trauma and adversity can manifest in adulthood through my own experiences, which support much of my work. I have shared snippets of my experiences with my partner to illustrate how children might feel, but I kept them at arm’s length. They are interwoven into my soul, and sharing them feels like losing control over them, which is scary. I worry about being seen differently or weaker. Many times, I thought it wasn’t fair to share my story, as others have had it worse. But I’m slowly realizing that stories are powerful agents for change, and I want to cultivate change.

Everyone’s experiences, big or small, are relevant and worthy of being shared. We must be brave enough to talk about the tough stuff to normalize difficult feelings and teach children that their experiences matter. Our stories shape our perception of the world, our beliefs, and our behaviours. They mould us and stay with us. It’s time to share mine. I grew up in an environment of neglect, emotional abuse, and violence. From a young age, I was familiar with fear and anxiety. On the outside, everything seemed idyllic, but behind closed doors, I carried a painful secret. My parents fought daily, creating a constant presence of tension. The emotional turmoil filled our house, and I often felt like I was walking on eggshells. The pressure to take sides in their arguments caused me emotional stress and anger.

I adored my dad, who inspired me to be my best self. He was charismatic, loving, and kind, but he was also an alcoholic and abusive. He struggled with his own past, having grown up with adversity and feeling unloved and unworthy. His experiences overshadowed his life, and despite creating a beautiful life for us, he was plagued by his past. I grew up with two identities: my wonderful, loving self and my scary self, which nobody knew about. We didn’t tell anyone what went on inside our house. As I got older, I resented the life we had to live. To cope, I immersed myself in TV, writing, and drawing. Writing became my sanctuary, a place to release my pain and confusion. But the constant flip between good and bad days was torture.

The emotional toll of my parents’ fighting left me feeling insecure and anxious. My father’s illness worsened, and despite everything, I still loved and looked up to him. His illness and our family dynamics strained my relationship with my mother. I felt isolated and unloved, and my mother’s scolding only made it worse. In the absence of safety within my family, I found solace in writing. However, my struggles with gastric ulcers and surgery deepened my pain. Despite my transformation into a cold-hearted
individual, I longed for love and understanding. My journey to reconnect with my family and heal from my trauma has taught me the power of resilience, love, and seeking help when needed. I have decided to reconnect with my family, especially my father. I believe that people can change and redeem themselves. I am living in the present, making the most of my life by opening myself up to the world and allowing myself to be vulnerable. I have learned to embrace kindness and empathy again, and I choose to share my story to inspire others to find their own light amidst the darkness.

I was diagnosed with gastric ulcers and experienced complications. Surgery was suggested, but it scared me. During this time, I realized my mother’s love and care. I shared my family problems with Father Mwango, our school chaplain, who brought me closer to God. My transformation into a cold-hearted individual was gradual. I became detached, suppressing feelings of empathy or compassion. I adopted a cynical outlook, expecting the worst from people. I never imagined having so much hatred for my father. I started praying for his death, believing our family would be better off without him.

Interactions with others became transactional. I focused on self-preservation and personal gain, refusing to let anyone get too close. My once vibrant spirit turned cold and distant. Despite my transformation, I longed to experience warmth and love again. 2022 was my most depressing year. I lost interest in everything I loved. I found solace in drinking alcohol. I felt comfortable being alone. The pain inflicted was excruciating, leaving a lasting impact on my heart. I felt like everyone was manipulative and deceitful. I began to withdraw emotionally as a defence mechanism. Interactions with others became transactional. My once vibrant spirit had turned cold and distant.

I was either going to commit suicide or murder. The thought of committing suicide dominated. One day, I noticed a fire in the kitchen and ignored it. I didn’t care about the fire or the people in the house. My parents saved us, but my mother’s anger made me feel she didn’t care about me. Deep down, I still longed to experience warmth and love. I sat my mother down and explained how my sleep was affected. She told me to visit Bishop Chulu. He made me realize I had been depressed. I started finding ways to escape depression. I engaged in church activities and went to a conference. Seeing people singing and dancing was exciting. I felt like I hadn’t been happy in ages.

My parents divorced, which I supported, but it made me insecure about my family relationship. I developed a fear of abandonment. My brother and I hated each other because he sided with my father, and I sided with my mother. Parents serve as role models for their children’s behavior and relationships. Witnessing conflict aggression between my parents, I internalized those patterns and exhibited similar behaviors in my relationships. I struggled with expressing my needs and resolving conflicts constructively. My trust and intimacy were affected. I struggled to trust my partner’s intentions, leading to difficulties in forming deep emotional connections. One day, I met someone who forced me to confront my cold-heartedness. My companion friend noticed my withdrawn demeanor and reached out with kindness and understanding. His selflessness and compassion touched a chord deep within my soul. I realized my cold- heartedness had not protected me from pain; it had only isolated me further. Embracing vulnerability and reconnecting with my humanity, I embarked on a journey of self-reflection and healing.

With consistent support from loved ones, I learned coping mechanisms to manage my anxiety and build a network of trusted individuals. My journey taught me the power of seeking help when needed. Everyone needs help, and it shouldn’t be a big deal to seek or offer help. Our aim should be to love people regardless. People can change and redeem themselves. I am free to move on, and I won’t let people hold me in a prison where I can’t move on. My life is important, and I choose to make the most of it.

Sharing this story is not easy, but it is important to express how deeply the constant fighting affected me. I hope that by sharing this, we can begin to have open and honest conversations about our family dynamics. My story serves as a reminder that every child deserves a safe and nurturing environment. Let us create a better world, advocating for the rights of vulnerable children and raising awareness about the impact of childhood trauma. Appearance can be deceiving; we must approach others with empathy and understanding, creating inclusive environments where everyone feels safe and included.

The post Blessing Musonda’s Childhood Trauma appeared first on Sheevolves.world.