Hamilton Mvelase Bursary Fund

THE HAMILTON MVELASE BURSARY FUND

 

“I learned that love, truth, justice mercy and peace can change someone’s life as a whole.”Hamilton Mvelase

In a country afflicted by hardship, education is the solution to a number of South Africa’s problems. For socio-economically disadvantaged groups, access to good education is challenging. It for this reason, that we launched the Hamilton Mvelase Bursary Fund (HMBF) in 2017.

Hamilton was a previous beneficiary of a Bishops Bursary and his story is a tragic one.

Those who knew him described him as a hard worker and a natural leader. He was popular with his peers and a great sportsman.

Tragedy struck in 1991 when Hamilton and a friend made an impromptu decision to take a day pass home to Guguletu one weekend. They caught a bus and were walking across a field when they were attacked. Hamilton escaped but his friend was stabbed in the leg. On seeing that his friend was in trouble, Hamilton returned to assist and managed to save his friend but was fatally stabbed in the process. Hamilton’s dreams were never to be realized.

It is our hope that in celebrating this inspirational young man, it will create a platform for giving so that other deserving boys from disadvantaged communities will benefit from the opportunities that Hamilton was so tragically denied and that those who benefit will be inspired by his legacy.

HOW ARE FUNDS ALLOCATED

Contributions are invested and drawn down annually at 4%.  This ensures that each year, boys will benefit whilst the fund continues to grow ultimately providing a sustainable bursary programme.

HOW TO GET INVOLVED

Contributions can be once off or via Regular Giving .

To pledge support or make a contribution, please click the links.

Pledge Form  Make a Donation 

 

A Poem by Hamilton Mvelase

It is sunrise, people wake up

Before eating breakfast which is

Leftovers from the previous day.

Someone goes out for a bath

In the cold, freezing open-air bathroom.

A woman makes tea, and yawns

When she feels the watermarks

of night receding from her eyes.

The dew is drying and the light brightens. Her eyes pass through

The steamy rumble roads.

She enjoys sitting on the splayed building

And the slum street of her township.

She takes a cup of coffee which

She sips, and strokes the drowsy cat

That tucks its paws. The time is hers.

Published in ‘Mitre’ – 1990