In Johannesburg's Alexandra township, Tsholofelo Mphela stops each morning at a bright yellow shipping container to buy a few spoonfuls of sugar on her way to work. Inside, shelves hold large jars of beans, rice and maize meal, clear boxes of breakfast cereal and loose teabags, while a tap dispenses cooking oil by the millilitre. The cashier weighs her purchase before ringing it up for a few rand.
Mphela, the sole breadwinner for a family of eight, says her monthly bulk grocery shop lasts only about a week. “At times, I don't have enough money to buy a 2kg bag of sugar,” she explains. A 2kg bag costs about 60 rand (£2.80). At the weigh-and-pay shop Gcwalisa – meaning “fill up” in isiZulu – she can buy exactly what she can afford.
Addressing food insecurity in South Africa's townships
South Africa produces more than enough food to feed its population, yet millions face hunger. A 2024 national survey found nearly two-thirds of households were affected by food insecurity, and nearly 30% of children under five suffered from stunting linked to chronic malnutrition. Healthy food remains out of reach for many, contributing to widespread obesity and diabetes – which recently overtook HIV and tuberculosis as the leading cause of natural death in the country.
“A lot of townships are food deserts, where nutritious foods are not accessible,” says Josephine Katumba, Gcwalisa's head of operations. “We are offering people that accessibility – with whatever amount of money you have, it will at least get you through the next few days.”
How the weigh-and-pay model works
Launched in 2022, the social enterprise runs six container-based shops across Alexandra, selling food and basic household products by weight. Customers are encouraged to bring their own refillable receptacles. The model avoids what founder Miles Kubheka calls the “poverty tax”: poorer families paying more for small pre-packaged quantities because they cannot afford to buy in bulk. Products are sourced directly from local producers, focusing on nutritious, high-quality foods.
Low-waste shops that sell by weight are not new, Katumba admits, but they are usually set up in more affluent neighbourhoods. “We said: 'How do we target low-income earners, no-income earners, people who depend on government grants – which are the majority of the population?'”
Expanding services and community impact
The shops expanded to household essentials such as detergent, painkillers and period pads. They began stocking nappies after a grandmother asked whether she could buy disposable ones individually. “She said they let them dry in the sun, dust them off and reuse them,” Kubheka recalls. In 2023, as South Africa endured regular power cuts of up to 12 hours a day, Gcwalisa installed solar panels on some containers, now providing electricity to dozens of surrounding homes and the local school. “These traffic lights are powered by us,” says Kubheka. “We have become a sort of alternative service-delivery platform.”
Outside one yellow container, teenagers in school uniforms do homework using free wifi installed by Gcwalisa. One shop was recently registered as a medical pickup point, allowing patients to collect HIV or diabetes medication alongside groceries. At the till, 65-year-old Sibongile Msomi watches as the cashier weighs out exactly 16 rands (£0.73) worth of Pine Gel cleaner. “I just received my pension, but it's small money,” she says.
Structural challenges and expert analysis
South Africa faces a “food system paradox”, says Prof Julian May, who heads the Centre of Excellence in Food Security at Cape Town's University of the Western Cape. The country is self-sufficient in food and has adopted policies that eliminated stunting in children elsewhere, such as child support grants and free primary healthcare, but they have “failed to budge food insecurity”. One main cause is an “astronomically high level of unemployment”, with about 43% of the working-age population without a job. Additionally, supermarkets and formal retailers dominate, unlike in many other African countries where markets and informal traders are key food sources. “What is affordable in low-income areas is often unhealthy: low-cost, high-calorie, low-nutrient foods,” May says.
Standing behind the till of a Gcwalisa container opposite a busy supermarket, shopkeeper Lerato Khangale fills a small paper bag with 100g of beans – enough for one person's dinner. Many customers rely on government grants of 350 rand (£16) a month. “They say we're helping them, because they cannot afford life,” she says. Khangale has started shopping at the refill shops herself. “Towards month's end, when things become so difficult, I just spend my last money here,” she says. “Just those 20 rands, so that I can buy something for my kids.”
