For decades, community-based NGOs in South Africa’s arts and culture sector have been vital engines of creativity, education, employment, and social transformation. Institutions like Sibikwa Arts Centre – a nationally recognised, award-winning community arts organisation, cultural hub and DSAC-designated Centre of Excellence – have not only weathered the country’s transitions but actively shaped inclusive cultural futures. For over 3 decades, Sibikwa has created access to the arts for rural and township children and youth, trained generations of artists, managers and educators, and modelled Afrocentric arts practices, sound governance, and participatory cultural policy.

Since joining Sibikwa in 2019 – and drawing on many more years of engagement across South Africa’s arts sector – I’ve witnessed how a performance can elicit joy, learning, and a sense of community in diverse audiences, how an arts education programme can spark confidence and the pride of achievement in a shy teenager, how a storytelling event can give voice to someone who has never felt heard, and bring families together despite generational barriers, and how young learners can improve their academic performance and see a future for themselves becoming leaders in the industry of their choice with the critical and creative thinking, discipline, inter-personal and other skills gained from participating in the arts. Every artist we train, every creative entrepreneur we support, and every participant who imagines a better future, sends ripples through our communities – uplifting others, enriching local economies and inspiring peers. It’s an ecosystem built slowly, on trust, experience and generational knowledge; and held together by commitment, creativity and care.

In 2024, with 5 full-time management staff, Sibikwa reached over 8,200 children, youth, and young people with disabilities; trained more than 520 young artists, creative entrepreneurs, facilitators and teachers; and created 195 jobs for performers, technicians, facilitators, and sector-related occupations. We also partnered across 6 provinces and 4 countries, toured 2 professional productions, hosted over 15 events and programmes, and contributed to over 14 national and international industry events. All at little to no cost to our beneficiaries, with the ripples of this work reaching even more and farther through people who develop their careers and gain access to the industry and networks, through our programmes and platforms. Our work isn’t about grand statements; it’s about steady growth and meaningful engagement.

Yet despite this breadth of impact, we find ourselves in a persistently precarious position.

At Sibikwa, we often feel like we are balancing on a double-edged sword. From the outside, it may be easy to assume that we are well-funded, internationally patronised, or subsidized by government; but this view conceals a far more fragile reality. In truth, like any other community arts centre, we operate with almost no surplus, and ongoing cash flow instability. It might come as a surprise to some that we work tirelessly to fundraise every cent needed for our operations, programmes, and facilities – with the same uncertainty of outcome as many others in the sector, and carrying the same strain of a rapidly changing, ever-politicised, and increasingly arts, culture and human rights-averse global landscape.

If access is to remain equitable in a South Africa historically unequal, we will never be self-sustaining, without excluding the very people we are here to serve. Yet, the expectation that legacy NPOs should operate without core support persists – as if our sustained success means we can manage without help – reflecting a deep misalignment between intention and implementation by national custodians of the sector. But how do we sustain public benefit work without sustained public support?

As a registered PBO, Sibikwa is legally mandated to use public funds for public good. In principle, that aligns with the goals of government. In reality, public funding priorities lack a coordinated strategy to facilitate and promote the growth, sustainability and value of the sector. Every delay, every shortfall, threatens our ability to function. We’ve cut programmes. We’ve imposed austerity. And it is our communities who feel the gap.

We know the power of what we do. But we live in a time of fractured support. And I find myself questioning: How do we keep the ripples of our work flowing when resources shift and funding landscapes change?

I’ve seen public and private funders broaden their portfolios – launching thematic initiatives, exploring new regions or championing emerging enterprises. These developments bring fresh energy, but they can also leave organisations with deep community roots – like ours, which runs not only education and training programmes but also productions, festivals, outreach and capacity building for grassroots centres – working hard to stay relevant, flexible and purpose-driven, in transition. An evolving and necessary focus on rural development, for example, can inadvertently sideline densely populated regions like Gauteng – where long-standing programmes still serve thousands, and municipalities like Ekurhuleni often receive less targeted support than the province’s more prominent cities. Our adaptability has been a cornerstone of our decades-long legacy – a constant necessity to keep exploring ideas for diversifying funding, building partnerships, strengthening earned income and staying purpose-driven. Whenever funding priorities shift or new initiatives arise, we pivot to keep serving our community. Exhausting. But how else do we keep our commitments to those who depend on us?

Beyond our programmes, the increasing costs to maintain, secure and occupy our multipurpose facilities adds a significant financial burden, particularly in an environment where funding, predominantly project-based, rarely covers core overhead costs. So while government’s preoccupation with investing in new infrastructure for their potential to generate jobs, economic growth and social cohesion through shared spaces, and cultural enterprise, is an honourable mission, particularly in underserved communities; past experience and the state of some of the existing recreational spaces, drives me to ask: what will it take for those bricks and mortar not only to be well maintained and resourced, but also to translate into sustainable, long-term programming? The problem isn’t only buildings – it’s sustaining the people, knowledge and programmes that bring those spaces to life.

Building a project is not the endgame – keeping it running is. And keeping it rooted in people, programmes, and purpose is what truly transforms a community asset into a living, breathing centre of transformation. If we allow legacy institutions to close their doors, we lose more than buildings. We lose archives, methodologies, networks, skills and stories. Because when legacy organisations fall, they don’t fall alone – they take with them the hopes, histories, and hard-won progress of entire communities.

A striking reality we’ve encountered recently is that it’s been our corporate partners – not our government stakeholders – who have stepped in most actively to help us explore pathways to long-term sustainability. Several have not only upheld their commitments but gone further to connect us to their networks, offer strategic advice, and even explore expanded sponsorship. These gestures reflect a deep understanding, and genuine valuing of the role Sibikwa plays in nurturing creativity, building skills, and fostering resilient communities. Meanwhile, efforts to engage government stakeholders often go unanswered, or are met with vague platitudes and unfulfilled processes. The contrast is difficult to ignore. When the private sector recognises the value of sustained, strategic investment, it leaves me wondering: what is holding public institutions back from doing the same?

If the central question is: who will keep the lights on for public-interest arts programming? the current model is not the answer, and a more strategic approach is urgently needed. We hear from young collectives who envy our history, and from large organisations that struggle like small ones when a funding cycle ends. What we need is an entire ecosystem – of community, government, private sector and NGO partners – that allows people and the arts to thrive, collectively.  A holistic, strategy‑driven arts sector would see institutions like Sibikwa not as legacy liabilities but as critical nodes in a national ecosystem: hubs of expertise, training and community trust.

Instead, what we have now is patchwork and zero-sum. When funds are scarce, arts organisations – especially those serving marginalised townships and vulnerable groups – are seemingly automatically de-prioritised in favour of commercial entities, even though they often reach the very constituencies targeted by policies. The gap in strategic development shows up across funding, education, and institutional planning. There is no systematic effort to build audiences (through quality arts curricula in schools or facilitated cross-sector partnerships, for example), nor clear pathways for arts graduates into careers. In practice, much of the heavy lifting is done by CBOs themselves. Yet state support is erratic. The real cost of this strategic drift is intangible: diminished networks, lost methodologies, fractured communities. And the irony is stark: calling  for transformation and redress, while divesting from the very organisations that have been doing the work well, for decades.

When NPOs cannot rely on public funds to sustain programmes for public benefit, the entire value chain – from artist training to audience engagement – weakens. And when the next generation of creatives finds no clear pathway into the profession, the sector’s long term viability is compromised. The result is a fragmented sector – organisations pitted against each other, disconnected strategies, misaligned priorities, loopholes for misconduct, and missed opportunities for long-term impact – scurrying to fundraise, comply and plan for survival, rather than focusing on deepening programmes and forging new partnerships. Leaving one to wonder: why aren’t arts and culture organisations and centres being explicitly safeguarded by the public funding streams meant for them?

This is not just an administrative or financial crisis – it is a policy failure. We must ask: who benefits from the systematic sidelining of experienced organisations with a proven track record of impact?

So, as the team at Sibikwa, we sit with these questions: How can we sustain the institution that raised the ground for our programmes that nurture innovation, expression and transformation in long-neglected communities? How do we keep going if we can’t rely on government or public grants? And above all: how do we ensure, even without state support, that we can be here fully for any child, creative, teacher or community member who walks through our doors?

Yet still, we hold onto hope. We remain firm in the belief that, in a rapidly changing world, the arts remain a vital force for healing, for imagining new futures, and for empowering communities. Our mission – to nurture young talent, create professional pathways, and serve our community – remains what matters most. We don’t have all the answers, but we know the work is worth it. We’ll keep creating ripples, however we can.