Changemaker: Busi Jama

Time Out

5 days ago

Armed with a deep understanding of how invisible labour holds up the world, Busi Jama has put her psychology degree and entrepreneurial spirit towards the kind of work that doesn't come with much fanfare or institutional sponsorship.
For six years, she walked into the female centre at Pollsmoor Prison before sunrise, offering motivational talks and building sisterhood circles for wardens working in what can best be described as one of the country's most emotionally demanding and toxic environments.
She did it without a title or salary, and knowing the rewards of her mentorship today, she'd do it all over again in a heartbeat.
These days, you'll find her using her spare time mentoring young girls, including Black Girl Rising, a grassroots NPO founded by activist Xoli Funyani.
Jama says she looks to meet young girls where they are - emotionally, mentally, spiritually - and helps them open up through storytelling, while encouraging them through relatable voices and the same powerful formula harnessed at Pollsmoor: honest love and a consistent, unwavering sense of care and presence.
'I use love as a tool for change,' she says. 'Because that's what I needed. That's what we all need.'
This Women's Month, we're showcasing female changemakers using their power for good. In this Q&A, Jama shares why she thinks sisterhood is the fiercest form of resistance.
Time Out: You've said, 'I use love as a tool for change.' What does that mean in real, everyday terms?
Jama: We live in a social media era where everyone's curating their best life. But the reality is, women are carrying things they can't post. My version of love is about showing up with my scars, my mistakes, my wins and my fears. It opens up space for honesty.
Growing up in Khayelitsha, our moms had stokvels - not just to save, but to share. That was sisterhood. I'm just helping women rebuild those safe spaces.
What surprised you most about working with the female wardens?
Jama: We have all watched the series and movies with these hard women they cast as female wardens with tough personalities. I have yet to meet such a warden. What a joyous bunch.
Also, the level of care the wardens at the female centre possess. When I started engaging them one-on-one, I found that a huge part of their stress was the helplessness they feel for the clients because they wish better for them.
I was never prepared for that.
The female wardens also needed a healthy space to air their experiences, their pain, and their personal and professional struggles.
Can you describe one moment from your sessions that's stayed with you?
Jama: At one of my last sessions, I picked three wardens and shared something I admired about each of them.
One had hit her fitness goals, another had started taking more care with her appearance and showing up for herself, and one was just consistently kind.
Then something magical happened.
They each stood up and did the same for three other women. That room lit up with love. All those early, cold mornings were worth it for that moment.
What's one thing you wish every girl in a township school could hear and believe?
Jama: The world has been waiting just for you. Your energy, your voice, your mind, it matters. You can shift spaces in ways no one else can.
You use books by Black women as part of your mentorship. Why books and why these voices?
Jama: Books fuel imagination. And Black women authors write with a voice that these girls recognise. It's that recognition that makes them open up.
When we read Baked in Pain by Amanda Dambuza, the girls were queuing to share their own stories. Books unlock something powerful.
Is there a project you're working on with the girls that excites you?
Jama: This mentorship is the most fulfilling work I have done my whole life.
I work specifically with girls in matric and university. Xoli, who runs Black Girl Rising, asked me to guide them in talking about their personal and home struggles. I suggested group sessions instead of one-on-ones, because sister circles are my jam. In group settings, they realise they're not alone. The shame and isolation begin to lift.
Yes, there are times the girls share home stories, and I end up driving home in tears, but these black girls have someone they trust in me to share their pain.
Every session I have with the girls, I send Xoli a heartfelt thanks for trusting me with her amazing, courageous girls.
If funding and logistics weren't a barrier, what would your dream version of this work look like - and who would it reach?
Jama: That's a big, beautiful question. I would love access to quarterly workshops with girls in township schools and villages across this country. Introduce them to concepts like self-love.
I'd dedicate a quarterly session to them, reminding them of the beauty of playing.
Young girls are discouraged from playing early. Come in and cook. It's too late to be out. Don't play that game; it will make you wild like boys. The childhood and carefree energy is cut short early.
I want to show them what it means to identify as a beautiful black woman.
Do you think love, sisterhood and storytelling can disrupt cycles of trauma in our communities?
Jama: Oh yes. A simple example. A man will approach a girl easily alone. When she is with a group, a wise man knows you need strategy and not just opportunity.
That is the power of sisterhood.
Abusive men first get rid of their friends because it's hard to abuse someone with a powerful circle of love. You don't touch her, you interrupt the whole beehive.
We were never islands. Ubuntu speaks of who we have always been. We were made imperfect so we can learn to lean on each other.'
What does healing mean to you now, as a woman, as a coach, and as someone who sees people at their most vulnerable?
It means making time for yourself outside of what society requires from you. Understanding yourself, even the ugly parts, is true acceptance of self.
Jama's Women's Month message?
"We finally live in a world where we can be anything we want. So let's turn it on its head and be kind. In boardrooms. At Shoprite. While waiting at the bank. Smile at the woman behind you.
Let's make Ubuntu trend, not on socials, but in real life. Give me the name of one mom in your child's class…? See, we can all do a little. And it can change a lot.'