What We Built, What We Missed: A Founding Reflection on the BMF Journey
Nearly five decades since its founding, the Black Management Forum stands as both a symbol of progress and a reminder of the work that remains. The reflections that follow are not a critique from the outside, but an introspective account from within shaped by lived experience, conviction, and the weight of history.
Each generation carries its own aspirations and confronts its own challenges. Yet, in the pursuit of progress, there are moments where opportunities—clear in hindsight—are missed. These reflections revisit some of those moments, not to diminish what has been achieved, but to illuminate lessons that remain vital for the present and the future of the BMF, and the broader project of Black economic empowerment.
These are not abstract reflections—they are drawn from decisions we took, and in some instances, decisions we did not take.
The Founding Moment: Courage, Conviction and Contradiction
Each generation is aware of its own aspirations and the challenges that must be addressed to realise them. It is equally important that generations understand—and respect—that it is not their place to encroach upon or approximate the aspirations and challenges of others.
At the time of the BMF’s formation, this understanding shaped our approach. We recognised that the struggle for freedom, dignity and respect spoke in many tongues—far beyond any single form of activism. Our decision to organise as young Black professionals was never a rejection of the broader struggle, but rather an extension of it.
It required immense courage—perhaps more than is often acknowledged today—for a group of budding Black professionals to pursue alternative, yet compatible, avenues in the broader struggle for liberation, empowerment and self-determination. Despite the risks, a cohort of aspirant leaders resolved to establish an organisation that would provide a space—both safe and purposeful—for those entering the corporate world.
We understood that branching out was not a form of retreat, nor a betrayal of the struggle. It was a necessary expansion of it.
In the early days, an existing institution—the National Development of Management Foundation (NDMF)—offered access to its extensive training resources. This offer was deliberately declined—despite its clear strategic value. The decision was shaped by the political climate of the time, where accepting such support risked criticism—even ostracism—from established anti-apartheid formations.
At the same time, we were navigating criticism from within our own communities. Working within corporate structures was, in many quarters, condemned as a political sell-out. Yet we had been raised in the values of ubuntu: that one advances further by building with and learning from others.
In hindsight, this moment stands as one of the early tensions between principle and pragmatism—one whose implications would echo over time.
Building Without Resources: Dialogue, Vision and Early Choices
Although the terminology did not exist at the time, there was an early awareness that the work we had begun would extend beyond our generation. The task of securing freedom and self-determination for the majority required a long-term commitment—what I now refer to as a “cathedral strategy”.
The BMF was always intended to be more than an organisation of its moment. It was meant to educate, inspire and prepare future generations to continue the work. Access to financial and institutional resources was limited. In response, the founding members adopted a different model—one rooted in community and dialogue. Regular gatherings became the cornerstone of the organisation, creating space for open engagement on the pressing issues facing Black professionals and South African society.
This approach drew from a deeply embedded African tradition. As the late Nimrod Mkele described it, the concept of umrhabulo—the sharing of knowledge through oral exchange—became a defining feature of the BMF’s early years.
It is within this context that another equally important principle must be understood: the power of others. In African philosophical practice, one does not simply assert ideas—one offers them to the public square, where they are tested, refined, strengthened or, where necessary, discarded. Ideas are not the preserve of the individual; they are the product of engagement. This is the essence of umntu ngumntu ngabantu—that one becomes through others.
It is a principle long sustained through the wisdom of mothers and grandmothers, the primary custodians of indigenous African intellect and heritage.
Through these engagements, the organisation grew. It developed not through formal structures alone, but through conversation, reflection and collective learning. What we lacked in financial capital, we sought to build through intellectual and social capital.
Yet even within this approach lay early choices—some deliberate, others less so—that would shape the organisation’s trajectory, particularly in relation to how resources, partnerships and institutional capacity would be developed over time.
The Missed Opportunities: Leadership, Sustainability and Institutional Maturity
One of the more difficult legacies has been the pattern of internal division following leadership transitions. What we once referred to, somewhat humorously, as the “spider-mating dance” revealed a deeper institutional challenge.
Outgoing leaders often became targets of criticism, rather than contributors to continuity. This tendency reflects a broader issue of organisational maturity and a lack of mechanisms to preserve institutional memory. It is a matter that many of us who were part of the founding generation continue to regret.
Perhaps even more significant has been the challenge of sustainability—both financial and organisational. From the outset, the BMF failed to establish sustainable mechanisms for generating income and building long-term capacity. This was not unique to the BMF; many Black organisations formed during apartheid faced similar constraints.
In truth, decisions to forgo certain opportunities—particularly those that could have strengthened financial stability—were missed opportunities. The question of how to build self-sustaining institutions continues to confront us.
There were also moments when opportunities for infrastructure and institutional development presented themselves. These included access to funding, training facilities and other resources that, while politically sensitive, would have accelerated the development of Black managerial leadership at scale.
In certain instances, assets that could have been repurposed for empowerment were left unused or discarded, often because they were associated with the apartheid system. These decisions were made within a specific historical context and reflected the sensitivities of the time.
Yet, in retrospect, they were missed opportunities to reclaim, repurpose and redirect resources towards the advancement of our people.
The Responsibility of Inheritance
These reflections are not offered as judgement, but as contribution.
The BMF was built through courage, conviction and a deep commitment to the advancement of Black professionals. That foundation remains intact. However, the challenges of sustainability, institutional cohesion and strategic decision-making now demand renewed attention.
The next phase of the BMF’s journey must be shaped by a willingness to learn from both its achievements and its shortcomings—and, importantly, by a renewed commitment to drawing on the collective wisdom of the communities we serve. If there is one enduring lesson, it is this: the work of building institutions is never complete. Each generation inherits both the strengths and the limitations of those who came before.
The responsibility—and the opportunity—lies in what we choose to do with that inheritance, and how we continue to build—not in isolation, but through the enduring power of others.
Responses