logo
NTHABISENG MATSHEKGA: ‘I'm not afraid to talk about money anymore'

NTHABISENG MATSHEKGA: ‘I'm not afraid to talk about money anymore'

Mail & Guardian09-05-2025

Financial discipline: Nthabiseng Matshekga.
Nthabiseng's story is one that many South Africans will recognise.
It's a story shaped by strong women, financial lessons learned early and a quiet determination to do better with each generation. As a mother of three, and the executive head of integrated marketing and experience at Nedbank, Nthabiseng is someone who has taken the time to understand her relationship with money.
In her interview, Nthabiseng proves that financial growth isn't just about numbers — it's about values, habits and the willingness to keep learning.
The mother of three teenagers, she's someone who has been on a real journey with money, starting from what she saw in her childhood home to how she now teaches her own children. 'I learned from my grandmother,' she says. 'She had this ability to stretch her salary. She knew how to make her salary feed a whole family by being a great bargain shopper. She was really disciplined, always saving, always delaying gratification until it was worth it.'
One memory stands out.
'When I was at university, she bought me my first cellphone. I hadn't asked for it, she had just quietly saved up for it and surprised me. That taught me that a little, saved consistently, can go a long way.'
But there were also harder lessons.
Her family was known for being generous, and while that came from a good place, it wasn't always met with the same energy. 'We gave a lot, to relatives and even strangers. Over time, I saw how that generosity could be taken advantage of.'
That early mix of discipline and excessive generosity left its mark. As an adult, Nthabiseng found herself repeating some of those patterns. 'I used to give a lot, sometimes more than I could afford. I didn't say 'no' enough. And it would put me in tough financial situations.'
Things started to shift when she joined Nedbank and took a money archetype survey. It helped her see herself clearly — as a 'carer' personality type, who likes to help others, sometimes to her own detriment.
'Just having language for that made a difference. I learned I can still be generous, but with boundaries.'
She now has what she calls a 'giving budget', and being more intentional about money has brought her calm. 'I'm less stressed now. I understand my financial position better, and I'm not afraid to talk about money anymore.'
That openness is something she passes on to her kids. 'We talk about money all the time. I want them to understand it early, to know about saving, investing, spending wisely—and giving too, in a way that makes sense.'
She teaches them to break it down into four parts: spend, save, invest, and give, adding that 'Money isn't just about today. It's about the future, too.'
Her approach to motherhood is just as thoughtful.
'For me, motherhood means raising myself so I can raise them. I want them to know they're loved for who they are — not for what they achieve. And I try to learn from them too. They're teaching me all the time.'
Nthabiseng doesn't believe in the idea of having it all—at least, not in a one-size-fits-all way.
'I don't think there's a universal definition of what 'all' even means. Every mom is different. We all have our own paths, and our own version of a full life.'
In her career, she's seen many strong female leaders, especially in marketing, which she says has generally welcomed women at all levels.
'I've always had women around me in this field. Some of my best mentors and bosses were women. And I've had great support from female colleagues across industries.'
Still, she knows that society often sees mothers in a narrow light. 'Moms are usually seen as reliable, nurturing, but also stretched,' she laughs. 'And there's truth to that. We are doing a lot. But I also think we need to be seen as full people, not just caretakers.'
Her own mother was a teen mom and a single parent.
'She had a lot on her plate, but she raised me with love, a sense of belonging, and safety, alongside my grandparents and her sisters. She was a bit strict during my teen years, and I feel I built a closer relationship with her when I became a mom. She is also a great cheerleader and supporter.'
Nthabiseng has a quiet message for other working moms. 'Stay in tune with yourself. Don't lose the things that put fire in your belly. And talk to your kids — they can give you honest, surprising feedback. Also, don't forget to take time for yourself.'
Her story isn't about dramatic success or perfect solutions. It's about paying attention to the small things, making gradual changes, and being honest about where you are. It's a reminder that financial health, like parenting, is a process.
'Learning how to look after my money better has helped bring me stability that reduces stress. The personal agency to learn to grow that money is a source of pride and confidence. Money helps take care of one's family. Additionally, it compounds access to opportunities.'
Nthabiseng is one of the country's female guardians, and one of the women doing the work, asking the right questions, and helping shape a more balanced future for the next generation, one honest conversation at a time.

Orange background

Try Our AI Features

Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:

Comments

No comments yet...

Related Articles

South Africa must revive its industrial ambitions
South Africa must revive its industrial ambitions

Mail & Guardian

time4 hours ago

  • Mail & Guardian

South Africa must revive its industrial ambitions

Neglecting existing infrastructure generates higher long-term costs. South Africa's industrial decline is accelerating. State-owned enterprises that once drove economic transformation now epitomise institutional failure. Eskom's power cuts cripple manufacturing. Transnet's rail network deteriorates while ports struggle with backlogs. The Industrial Development Corporation, established to finance industrialisation, limps along with a compromised balance sheet. This infrastructure was built on the vision of Jan Smuts, prime minister from 1919 to 1924 and 1939 to 1948. While his commitment to racial segregation was morally reprehensible, his approach to economic development offers lessons for today's policymakers grappling with sluggish growth and persistent inequality. Smuts understood that South Africa needed to transcend its role as a commodity supplier to Britain's industrial economy. His developmental state model, combining strategic state investment, international partnerships and technocratic competence, transformed the country from a mining enclave into Africa's most sophisticated industrial economy. The foundations he laid endured for decades. The Electricity Supply Commission (later Eskom) provided cheap power that enabled large-scale manufacturing. The Iron and Steel Corporation (Iscor) supplied essential inputs for further industrialisation. His successors built on these foundations, establishing Sasol for synthetic fuels and the Council for Scientific and Industrial Research. Today, these institutions are shadows of their former selves. More troubling, the country appears to have lost the capacity for the long-term thinking that created them. South Africa's economic performance tells a sobering story. Growth has averaged just 0.8% annually over the past five years, well below the rate needed to reduce unemployment or meaningfully tackle poverty. The Gini coefficient, measuring income The benefits of black economic empowerment (BEE) policies have accrued primarily to political and economic elites, while the rest remain excluded from meaningful economic participation. The debate over the benefits of BEE has resurfaced, particularly concerning its mechanisms for wealth distribution. This has been highlighted by the recent scepticism surrounding the potential introduction of Starlink to South Africa, with concerns about exceptions to BEE compliance. Nonetheless, it is undisputed that, as a result of transformative Moreover, the state capture scandal, where politically connected individuals systematically looted public resources, represents the nadir of this failure, which has been accounted for by the collapse of Transnet and Eskom, the consequences of which are signified by inefficiencies thereafter. Despite the Zondo state capture commission spending more than R1 billion investigating the theft, many implicated figures retain positions of influence. Why do voters continue to elect leaders who have demonstrably failed them? The answer lies in how persistent unemployment, poverty and inequality make populations vulnerable to manipulation by the very politicians who created these conditions. The contrast with Smuts's approach is stark. He prioritised competence over patronage, choosing Hendrik Johannes van der Bijl, a German-educated engineer with US business experience to integrate the country's fragmented electricity supply. Van der Bijl's technical expertise, combined with political backing, enabled the creation of a power system that underpinned decades of industrial growth. Today's leaders talk about infrastructure development but have forgotten a crucial lesson: maintenance matters more than new construction. Neglecting existing infrastructure generates higher long-term costs than building new capacity. Johannesburg's collapsing central business district exemplifies this short-sightedness. Years of deferred maintenance have created a crisis that will cost far more to resolve than it would have cost to prevent. The rot runs deeper than poor maintenance. It reflects a broader failure of vision and leadership. Where Smuts aligned South Africa with international partners to attract investment and expertise, contemporary leaders often prioritise political survival over economic transformation. South Africa does not need to resurrect Smuts's racial ideology; his vision of white supremacy was both morally bankrupt and economically counterproductive. But it needs his approach to state-led development, clear vision, international partnerships, infrastructure investment and, above all, competence in execution. The formation of a government of national unity after the 2024 elections suggests political leaders recognise the scale of the crisis. The question is whether they possess the vision and competence to address it. As Smuts understood, South Africa's prosperity depends on reliable electricity, efficient transport and industrial capacity. These foundations are crumbling. Without urgent action to rebuild them, the country risks becoming a case study in how great institutions can be destroyed by poor leadership. The blueprint for revival exists in South Africa's own history. The question is whether anyone has the courage to follow it. Ashley Nyiko Mabasa holds master's in economic and labour sociology focused on energy policies and master's in public policy and governance focused on data governance, and is co-chairperson of the Brics Youth Council.

Put an end to four centuries of corporate plundering of Africa
Put an end to four centuries of corporate plundering of Africa

Mail & Guardian

time9 hours ago

  • Mail & Guardian

Put an end to four centuries of corporate plundering of Africa

Cecil John Rhodes epitomised the consolidation and expansion of white supremacy, corporate interests and state power. For the past four centuries, corporations have exploited — butchered — the African continent, leaving behind scars, open wounds and entrails which can be seen from space. The history of the continent could be told as one of corporate rule briefly interrupted by colonialism or, as the late novelist and scholar Ngugi wa Thiong'o put it, of 'corpolonialism'. South Africa's past and present exemplifies this. The Cape was colonised by a corporation, which then imported enslaved people to provide labour and enable the Dutch East India Company to lay the material and symbolic foundations for the regime of white supremacy and racial domination that culminated in apartheid. When slavery was no longer profitable, and so the British decided to 'abolish' it, the empire 'expropriated' enslaved people across it colonies and formally freed them — but not before paying £20 million pounds in compensation to white slaveholders and their creditors in the name of 'justice and equity'. These 'reparations', paid to white people for the end of slavery, were then reinvested through the new corporate vehicle of the joint-stock company. They were used to finance further colonial expansion and consolidate white domination over land, labour and lives, globally. In the Cape colony, for example, white compensation for black 'emancipation' quintupled the money in circulation in the economy; more than doubled imports and exports; financed the violent settler expansion on the colony's eastern 'frontier' and led to the establishment of its first private bank in 1837. The number of joint-stock companies in the Cape doubled, as white beneficiaries of 'emancipation' pooled their compensation to generate more wealth. White former slaveholders leveraged their land, capital and credit to re-subordinate the newly freed 'apprentice' labourers and become rent-seeking slumlords. The greatest beneficiary of the trade in compensation claims — the London-based merchant house of Phillips, King & Co. — financed the exploration of copper in Namaqualand, drawing a line from 'compensated emancipation' to the mining and extractive monopolies that emerged after the discovery of diamonds and gold. The consolidation and expansion of this three-headed hydra of white supremacy, corporate interests and state power throughout the latter half of the 19th century is epitomised in the figure of Cecil John Rhodes. This race-state-company nexus was also central to the system of colonial apartheid that emerged over the course of the 20th century. Rhodes's successors — who controlled as much of the economy as the apartheid state — were joined by the various corporations established under the volkskapitalisme, many of which dominate the continent today. As the Truth and Reconciliation Commission concluded: 'Business was central to the economy that sustained the South African state during the apartheid years. Certain businesses … were involved in helping to design and implement apartheid policies … Most businesses benefited from operations in a racially structured context.' This unholy trinity of white supremacy, corporate interest and state power is not unique to South Africa. Its global articulation was on full display in the White House two weeks ago as the world's most powerful statesman, the world's wealthiest man and rich white men who chase white balls around for a living put on a spectacular performance of ignorance, entitlement and victimhood. One after another, US President Donald Trump invited each of these unelected white men to roll back the years and weigh in on the present conditions and future prospects of the majority of people in South Africa, who were once again being held hostage to the delusions of a white minority. The ball-hitters obliged, literally speaking over Cyril Ramaphosa, the democratically elected president of South Africa, and Zingiswa Losi, the leader of the country's largest trade union federation, Cosatu. It was all too much for golfer Ernie Els, who momentarily forgot which side he was on and thanked the US for its support in maintaining apartheid. It was the most honest moment of the whole spectacle. President Trump's corporate handler, Elon Musk, loomed large but said nothing. Rather, his ransom was delivered by South Africa's second richest man, Johann Rupert, who declared that he had opposed apartheid from birth — as long as he had benefited from it. He said South Africa must abandon its insistence that corporations operating in South Africa — which for centuries have worked hand-in-glove with colonial apartheid to advance the interests of a white minority — should include a mere 30% ownership stake for the majority of South Africans. This would allow Musk's Starlink — a central part of the US military-industrial complex — to not only colonise space but recolonise the continent. Another demand, made explicit in Trump's recent executive order, is that white beneficiaries of centuries of racial domination who have amassed an absurdly disproportionate amount of the privately owned land (and wealth) should — like their slave-owning forebearers — once more be compensated in the name of 'justice and equity', regardless of whether the land was 'justly' acquired and is being 'equitably' used, or even used at all. Social movements, activists and affected communities have been working to hold corporations to account for their depredations on the continent since the 1900s. An early and instructive example is the work of South Africa's own Alice Kinloch, a pathbreaking pan-Africanist and pioneer of the field of business and human rights, who was born in the Cape in 1863 and moved to Kimberley in the 1870s. In the final years of the 19 th century, Kinloch pointed out that: 'The handsome dividends that a certain company pays are earned at the price of blood and souls of … black men. Shareholders may be in happy ignorance of this, so we would remind them that there are several thousands of fellow-men kept under lock and key for their sole benefit, and that the gems on their wives' hands, and the finery bought by their 'profits' are, to 'seeing' eyes, bespattered with human gore.' Kinloch proceeded to set out 'the state of affairs in South Africa, for which the bloody, brutal and inconsiderate hands of avarice and might are answerable', where '[f]or more than a quarter of a century Kimberley has been the stage for the worst forms of undisguised inhumanity' at the hands of 'their master the Company'. In doing so she pointed to the race-corporation-state nexus, noting that De Beers was 'a company as ostentatiously 'colour-hating' as its chief, Cecil Rhodes'. Kinloch established the African Association in 1897, which organised the first Pan African Conference in 1900. The resolutions of that conference included a call for direct action in respect of 'the situation of the native races in South Africa', including the 'degrading and illegal compound system of native labour in vogue in Kimberley'. The work of Alice Kinloch and her fellow pan-Africans should serve not only to inspire us but instruct us. Last week, social movements, activists and affected communities met in Johannesburg for the 7 th African Regional Indaba on a Binding Treaty on Business and Human Rights organised by the Centre for Applied Legal Studies, the Alternative Information & Development Centre and Lawyers for Human Rights. The treaty negotiation process began in 2014 following a resolution by the Human Rights Council — co-sponsored by South Africa — to 'elaborate an international legally binding instrument to regulate, in international human rights law, the activities of transnational corporations and other business enterprises'. The future of the treaty is uncertain, as efforts towards corporate accountability more generally are backsliding everywhere. Both the US and the EU are rolling back what little controls they had in place to regulate the actions of corporations. Countries of the Global South are being put under immense pressure to ease regulations to facilitate the second 'scramble for Africa' under the banner of a 'green transition' that relies on minerals the West has declared 'critical'. In South Africa, the Competition Commission is appealing a decision of the competition appeal court which effectively neutered the commission's capacity to hold companies operating beyond our borders accountable for the negative impact of illegal activities in the republic. The appeal arises from the commission's efforts to prosecute the largest banks in the world — whose market capitalisation exceeds $2 trillion, some of which were founded with the compensation paid to white slaveholders — for the coordinated manipulation of the rand. The competition appeal court's 2024 decision threw out the case against 17 of the 28 banks before they had even responded to the allegations. When the Centre for Applied Legal Studies requested permission to intervene as an amicus curiae to place the banks' conduct within the framework of domestic and international human rights law, the constitutional court refused our application. In the face of these challenges, we must continue to hold the line on corporate accountability for what Kinloch rightly described 'handsome dividends … earned at the price of blood and souls', including through defending the treaty process, which has been led from the outset by the Global South. Like Kinloch, we must also insist on a continental response, including by supporting the African Commission on Human and Peoples' Rights' efforts to draft an African regional treaty to regulate the activities of transnational corporations. Four centuries of impunity for corpolonialism is enough. Professor Christopher Gevers is the director of the Centre for Applied Legal Studies and an associate professor at the School of Law, Wits University.

End of tax loophole for Shein starting to have impact, say SA retailers
End of tax loophole for Shein starting to have impact, say SA retailers

The Herald

time10 hours ago

  • The Herald

End of tax loophole for Shein starting to have impact, say SA retailers

South Africa's closure of a tax loophole that benefited global discount e-commerce retailers Shein and Temu is starting to show positive signs as some consumers reject the higher prices, the CEOs of local fashion retailers Mr Price and TFG said on Friday. Last November South Africa's tax authority ended the practice known as de minimis , which allowed companies to drop-ship packages valued at less than R500 from suppliers in China to consumers in South Africa, paying a flat rate of 20% in lieu of customs duties and no VAT of 15%. Other markets including the US, UK and EU are also closing or planning to close loopholes that have given low-cost online platforms such as Shein and Temu, owned by PDD Holdings', pricing advantages. 'There's nothing punitive about them. It's just levelling the playing field so everybody trading in South Africa and importing products pays the same duties,' TFG CEO Anthony Thunström told Reuters in an interview after the company's earnings release. Thunström and Mr Price CEO Mark Blair said it was difficult to get official data to quantify the exact impact on the fast-fashion giants. 'But our understanding is that the closure of that loophole has significantly slowed down some of the international pure play online into South Africa,' Thunström said.

DOWNLOAD THE APP

Get Started Now: Download the App

Ready to dive into the world of global news and events? Download our app today from your preferred app store and start exploring.
app-storeplay-store