Two days before Gender Day at the Civil Society Forum in Antananarivo, we had a planning meeting with the WOSSO Fellows, Alliance members, the Marang Fund, and others.

Everyone had to choose which groups they wanted to join. At first, I was assigned to the group on gender-based violence and harmful practices, but I asked the ever so incredible, Susan Tolmay from Gender Links to move me to the Climate Justice and WASH group.

So, by the time Gender Day arrived, I already knew where I was going. I wasn’t lost or confused—it was a conscious choice. In fact, the day before, I sat in on a climate change panel discussion so that I could take notes and prepare myself. Yes, I know about climate change, but I wanted to be better equipped since I would be co-leading a group.

On Gender Day itself, after lunch, participants began dispersing into their respective groups. My self appointed role was to stand by the door and invite people to join Climate Justice and WASH.

There was only one challenge: the majority of participants spoke French or Malagasy, and I, with my South African confidence, was armed with English and vibes.

I had to think fast. I quickly asked someone nearby to teach me a short phrase in French that would help me invite people to our group. I stood at the door and repeated that phrase like a mantra, without even fully knowing if I was pronouncing it correctly. And guess what? It worked like magic.

People started laughing, cheering, and actually following me into the group. Mam Colleen, in particular, bumped into me standing my the door and was amused and shouted, “Zintle is now speaking French!” By the time the dust settled, twenty-five people had joined our group, making it one of the biggest of the entire forum.

And that’s how TANA25 was born.

Our group became a powerhouse collective, made up of participants from Lesotho, South Africa, Zimbabwe, Madagascar, Mozambique, and Namibia. With over ninety percent of our members hailing from Madagascar—one of the top five countries in the world most vulnerable to climate disasters—our conversations were rooted in lived realities.

Together, we tackled some of the most pressing issues: how women and girls are disproportionately affected by climate change, how poverty worsens in the face of floods and droughts, how gender-based violence spikes in times of disaster, and how grassroots WASH programs desperately need more funding.

We also discussed the importance of policies and legislation, including South Africa’s Climate Change Act, signed into law in July 2024 and formally proclaimed in March 2025, which provides a framework for adaptation, emissions limits, and just transition planning.

I shared with the group about South Africa’s recent experiences with extreme weather, including the devastating floods in the Eastern Cape and KwaZulu-Natal. These stories resonated deeply with our Malagasy colleagues, who spoke about the ongoing famine in the South, worsened by drought and food insecurity.

These were heavy conversations, but they were also full of hope. They reminded us that grassroots voices matter, and that solutions must be rooted in communities, not only in boardrooms.

Now, allow me to pause here and tell you about the moment that truly stole my heart. One of the Mamas in our group, dignified and warm, approached me with a handbag. A truly stunning handbag.

Naturally, I assumed she was selling it to me. After all, why else would someone hand me such a treasure? But thanks to Joannah, the fantastic translator, I quickly learned the truth.

Mama was not selling me the bag at all—she was giving it to me as a gift. She told Joannah to tell me: “I love your spirit.” I was floored. This was not just a bag; it was a gift of love, solidarity, and connection across language and cultural barriers.

To this day, I carry that bag everywhere. It is a constant reminder that sometimes your spirit speaks louder than words. (Check out my stunning bag ya'll)

Managing our TANA25 WhatsApp group has been another adventure. With most of the members communicating in French and Malagasy, and me relying on English, it has become my personal comedy show and language school combined.

I read the messages as they are, laugh at my own attempts to make sense of them, and then turn to Google Translate for help. I often find myself giggling at how hilariously mistranslated some phrases can be. But beyond the comedy, this group is teaching me.

It is a real-time language lesson, and Joannah has promised to help by translating all of our TANA25 blogs into French and Malagasy. Slowly but surely, I am learning not to break my tongue in the process.

Yet beneath all the humor, there is something powerful happening in TANA25. This group is not just a WhatsApp thread or a discussion circle. It is a living example of grassroots leadership in action.

It is a reminder that climate justice is inseparable from gender justice, that we cannot fight poverty without addressing inequality, and that policies mean little unless they translate into real change for real people.

For me, the bag from the Mama will always symbolize what TANA25 stands for: solidarity, generosity, and the belief that our spirits can connect even when our languages do not.

And so, as I carry that bag on my shoulder, I also carry the lessons, the laughter, and the vision of TANA25.

Together, we are building a movement for a climate-resilient Africa, one conversation, one laugh, and one act of solidarity at a time.