There are certain truths that are difficult to sit with. Student hunger is one of them. Hunger among students is not a new issue and it does not occur by accident. Nor is it confined to Stellenbosch University (SU). Across South Africa, universities are confronting a reality that sits uneasily alongside our aspirations of excellence: Students who are academically capable, admitted on merit, and yet unable to meet their most basic daily need – food.

We know this. We see it in data, in financial aid gaps, in quiet conversations with students who are trying to make plans stretch just a little further than they can. And yet, in many ways, hunger remains hidden. It is managed, concealed, normalised.

Although there is dignity in how students navigate scarcity, this comes at a cost.

Hunger does not only affect the body. It affects concentration, energy, participation, emotions, and ultimately success. It shapes who thrives and who simply survives. To be honest, student hunger challenges the idea that access to university is, on its own, enough. Yet access without support is not opportunity.

What strikes me about the current #GivingMaties campaign, other than the scale of activity, is the diversity of response. There is something profoundly human in the way our SU community is choosing to engage; by climbing mountains, cycling extreme distances, dedicating birthdays to the cause, or simply showing up in small, visible acts of solidarity.

These actions matter. In addition to raising the essential funds, they signal something deeper – that hunger is not someone else’s problem. Student hunger concerns all of us. Perhaps that is where the real shift lies. For many years, university fundraising has operated at a distance from lived experience. The focus was on large gifts, structured programmes, and strategic priorities – all necessary, all important. However, human involvement like this reminds us that philanthropy is most often relational. It is about proximity. About recognising the person behind the need.

Students receiving emergency support through #Move4Food are not abstract beneficiaries. They are classmates, team mates, future colleagues, all part of the fabric of this institution.

When responding to student hunger, we address an undeniable shortfall and confirm a firm belief about belonging – no student should feel invisible. No student should have to choose between traveling to attend a lecture and enjoying a meal. Student dignity matters.

Something else is also at play here, something that speaks to the broader role of universities in South Africa today. We are institutions shaped by history, still navigating deep inequalities that extend far beyond our campuses. Hunger is one manifestation of that inequality. Hunger holds a mirror that reflects the limits of our systems, the gaps in our funding models, and the reality that student success involves more than academic provision. Student success requires care. Not as an act of charity, but as an overall responsibility.

The response we are witnessing through #GivingMaties and #Move4Food is encouraging precisely because it is collective. We have moved beyond the idea that solutions should always be large, centralised, and perfect. Instead, the campaign invites participation at every level.

You do not need to climb Kilimanjaro. Unless you want to.

You do not need to ride the Cape Epic. Unless you are ready for that challenge.

You simply need to decide that the cause matters to you.

A donation, a conversation, a visible act of support – these are not small things. They are part of how culture shifts. How issues that were once hidden become shared concerns. How institutions advance. Perhaps that is the quiet invitation in this moment. Not only to give, but also to notice. To ask what it means to be part of a university community where hunger exists, and what it takes to respond to the challenge, consistently and collectively, over time.

Campaigns come and go. While Giving Days create focus, the underlying question remains: What kind of institution do we want to be? One that acknowledges hunger, or one that actively works to eliminate it?

The solution cannot be found in a single campaign – rather in what we choose to do next – as each action builds upon a previous one.

Karen Bruns is Chief Director: Advancement, Stakeholder Engagement and Communication.