Karen Mentoor, a community leader in Overcome Heights, informal settlement.
Image: Supplied
This series, which started last week, "A day in the life of a community leader", takes readers inside the daily realities of grassroots leadership - the quiet sacrifices, constant decision-making, emotional labour, and deep commitment required to serve communities.
Southern Mail will speak to a community leader every week to hear about the impact they have in their communities. In last week's edition, we spoke to Mymoena Scholtz, founder of Where Rainbows Meet Training and Development Foundation.
This week, we speak to Karen Mentoor, a community leader in Overcome Heights.
Ms Mentoor's day often starts long before sunrise.
For her, sleep is rare as her phone rings throughout the night with emergencies such as house fires, robberies, abuse, suicides, and medical crises.
For the residents of Overcome Heights, Ms Mentoor is not just a community leader; she is the first responder.
Ms Mentoor is a member of the Overcome Heights Community Forum, established in 2003. Operating from a small office shack, the forum serves thousands of residents living in roughly
5 000 shacks.
The forum represents the community and acts as a bridge to authorities.
“For me, work doesn’t end at the office door; it follows me home,” she said, adding that people knock on her door at any hour.
Her days often start without rest. If there is a fire, she is called. If someone has been robbed or a woman is waiting for the police after abuse, Ms Mentoor stays with her.
She often faces threats, but she says her strength comes from faith: “Through God’s grace, I am still standing.”
Administrative work is handled on her phone, emails, messages, and reports, while she remains present in the community. Volunteer mothers act as block leaders, supported by matriculants who assist with local initiatives.
“They have the passion, but they didn’t know volunteering would be this hard.”
One of the biggest challenges is limited access to policing. The Muizenberg police station is far, leaving many cases to Ms Mentoor, who often retrieves stolen goods herself.
“This is police work, social work, and government work, but we do it because no one else is here.”
Her days stretch from 8am to 9pm with no real breaks. Holidays don’t exist, and recognition is rare.
“I don’t want to be famous or on every paper. When I can put a smile on a child’s face, that’s enough.” Her sons also help in the community, a source of pride.
Burnout is real. On heavy days, such as handling 15 cases involving violence, break-ins, and electricity outages, she takes short naps when she can. Her biggest supporter is her husband, John.
“He is my go-to person. Even when I take out frustrations on him, he remains patient,” she said.
Some of her most impactful work happens behind the scenes. Last year, she chained herself to Parliament’s gate in protest against rising violence.
“Shortly after, local gang leaders agreed to a peace initiative. A long-awaited housing project is also underway after 23 years,” she said.
Ms Mentoor has witnessed unforgettable sights such as decomposed bodies, suicides among young women and matriculants, and the recent, devastating fires that destroyed more than 40 shacks, including one where a child died.
She has been an activist since her youth and has been detained and injured during protests at just 17.
“I always knew this was where I needed to work.”
For her, community service isn’t a job. It’s a life, lived one emergency, one knock on the door, and one act of compassion at a time.
To volunteer or support the fire victims, contact Ms Mentoor at 073 559 3015.