A Reflection from Our Women’s Circle

By Sikhethiwe Mlotsha

This month, our Kufunda women’s circle found a new joy. This monthly gathering is our ongoing practice. Each month, we return to each other: To connect. To celebrate, to support each other and - very practically! - to save together.

Today’s gathering carried two intentions. First, as always, we honored our commitment to each other through the Savings Club—each of us bringing a small amount, which is part of our seedbank for the future.

The second intention was more playful, more expressive—I shared the art I had created during the of the learning festival, and something surprising happened. The room lit up. Curiosity was sparked. Many of the women wanted to try it too. We let Art become a new language in our circle.

There was something tender about it. For many of us, art had long been left behind—something reserved for children, not grown women with responsibilities and routines. But today, something was reawakened. A spark. A skill. A remembering that we, too, are allowed to play, to create, to make beauty with our hands.

We asked ourselves: what does it mean to be a woman? And from that question, images emerged—each one different, each one a reflection of the depth and diversity we carry.

It was deeply moving to witness what arose. Women—many of whom spend their days working the land, tending homes, carrying the young on their backs—took this pause: A pause to breathe into self-expression. To remember parts of themselves often left in the shadows of necessity.

There was laughter. There was wonder. There was celebration. And in that creative chaos, a gentle calm arrived. As if the art itself was a kind of medicine we didn’t know we needed. We left the circle with our drawings, but more importantly, also with a shared desire: let’s keep doing this.

So here’s the invitation I carry forward, gently but with conviction: what if we continued to explore our emotions, our joys, our struggles—not only with words, but through art? What if creativity became a regular visitor in our circle—a companion to our stories, and a mirror to our hearts?

This gathering reminded me that art isn’t just for galleries or classrooms—it’s for us. For the parts of ourselves that long to be seen without needing to explain.

I’m holding this question with hope and curiosity: what might unfold if we keep creating together?