17 Grandmothers Fix Roads With Their Own Pensions in SA

When Humbulani Nemutavhani's sister fell ill during heavy rains in January, an ambulance couldn't reach their home in Lukau Village, South Africa. The family pushed her in a wheelbarrow through the mud for a kilometer until they reached passable road and caught a taxi to the clinic.

That emergency made one thing clear: the women of this rural village couldn't wait any longer for help. So 17 grandmothers, ranging from their 60s to 90 years old, pooled their social grant money and started fixing the roads themselves.

The group began in 2018 after asking their local municipality for help since 2015 with no results. Now they're concreting four roads that connect their community to the R524 highway between Louis Trichardt and Thohoyandou.

Their method is slow but steady. Three women each contribute R1,600 to buy river sand. The other 14 each purchase two bags of cement at R110 per bag. A truckload of small stones costs R8,000, which they save for over months.

Tshinakawu Ndou, 90, no longer does the physical labor but comes to every work session. "I can no longer do this sort of work, but I enjoy giving support and advice to those who are working," she says, adjusting her black shawl.

In seven years, they've completed three quarters of one road. At their current pace, they estimate it will take about 10 years to finish all four streets.

The Ripple Effect

The impact of impassable roads reaches far beyond medical emergencies. Parents struggle to drive children to school on rainy days. Workers can't reach their jobs. Even funerals are disrupted, forcing families to pay R1,500 to rent the traditional council hall when mourners can't access their homes.

The January floods that prompted the wheelbarrow rescue submerged large sections of their region, damaged dozens of health facilities, and cut off entire villages. A University of Venda study found that extreme rainfall combined with poor drainage is intensifying flood risk across Limpopo province.

These grandmothers understand that government processes take time, but their community can't afford to wait. Every bag of cement they buy with their pension money is an investment in their neighbors' safety and their village's future.

The women say they'll keep working, one meter of concrete at a time, until ambulances can reach every home.