Not just reaching, spiritual society walks talk

DAR ES SALAAM: SURELY, in an act that could bring even the most cynical heart to a standstill, over 100 elderly residents in Dar es Salaam were recently reminded that they are not invisible.

No, they are not forgotten footnotes of a fast-moving city; they are cherished, seen, and yes fed. This moving display of care was courtesy of the Sathya Sai Society of Tanzania, headquartered in Upanga, an area more associated with buzz and bustle than beans and blessings. But one weekend changed all that.

As part of their ongoing mission to translate spirituality into service (because what is the point of inner peace if you are not sharing your maize flour?), the Society organized a large-scale support initiative in the Azimio area of Mabibo ward.

Over 110 senior citizens received essential food items namely rice, maize flour, beans, and cooking oil. We are talking about the basics, but to these elders, they were bundles of love in edible form.

This is not your run-ofthe-mill photo-op charity gig. According to Mr. Saboori Naibu, Chairperson of Zone 9 (which covers countries like Tanzania, Uganda, Kenya, and South Africa), the Society’s work is about more than prayers and mantras, it is love in motion.

Naibu, who flew in from South Africa (yes, the compassion was airborne), stressed that their founder, Bhagawan Sathya Sai Baba, championed a simple message: help others, and do it with a smile. “Our work is not just spiritual lip service. It is service from the soul,” he said, before helping distribute food packages that were as heavy in symbolism as they were in substance. Each elderly recipient left with more than just food.

They left with dignity and the warmth of knowing someone cares. According to Mr Nathumal Sajnani, a longtime trustee of the Sathya Sai Society of Tanzania (and unofficial ambassador of practical kindness), every recipient received: 2 kilograms of rice, 2 kilograms of maize flour, 1 kilogram of beans and 1 liter of cooking oil. Sure, it won’t last a lifetime, but it fed more than just stomachs.

“This is not just about food,” said Mr. Sajnani. “It’s about love, about reminding these people that their lives still matter. They still belong.” Here, Mr Raphael Mlaga, a community elder from Azimio Street, could not hide his admiration, or his smile. “This support uplifts not just the body, but the spirit,” he said. According to him, the Society’s generosity complemented government efforts and added a human touch that bureaucratic systems often miss.

“This is what nationbuilding really looks like,” he added. “Not just policy. Not just paper. But presence.” Yes, the Tanzanian government has policies in place to prioritize elders, especially in public healthcare. But let us face it, not every elderly person makes it to the front of the line. In a city growing faster than a teen on energy drinks, grassroots compassion is not just appreciated — it’s necessary.

This was not a one-off performance. The Sathya Sai Society has a reputation in Tanzania for walking the talk regularly. Over the years, they have supported education, healthcare, and humanitarian causes with an impressive consistency. A jewel in their crown of good deeds? Uhuru Mchanganyiko Primary School in Kariakoo.

This institution is famous for being one of the first to integrate visually and hearing-impaired students into mainstream education.

Not only does the Society provide meals and uniforms, but they also pitch in with renovations — because learning should never be held back by leaky roofs or hungry stomachs. Unlike some charities that rely on gala dinners and glossy posters, the Sathya Sai Society runs on pure intention and grassroots generosity.

“All donations come from our members. They sacrifice from their own wallets — not to show off, but to show up,” explained Mr Sajnani.

And this is not just Tanzanian goodwill. The Society’s presence stretches across the African continent. In Uganda, they’re digging boreholes for clean water. In South Africa, they’re teaching youth moral values (and possibly preventing a few midlife crises before they start). It’s a network of selfless acts wrapped in spiritual warmth.

In a world where news headlines are often filled with turmoil and scandal, this story is a welcome breath of fresh air. A group of volunteers, led by a spiritual message, remembered the often forgotten, the elders who paved the way for the present but are too often left out of the future.

These small acts giving food, showing up, hugging someone who hasn’t felt seen in years, they add up. They ripple. And sometimes, they even restore our collective faith in humanity. Yes, the food will be consumed.

The oil will run out. The beans will be cooked. But the warmth of this initiative — the feeling of being noticed, loved, and respected — that’s the real nourishment. And it lasts a lot longer than two kilograms of maize flour.

As the sun set over Azimio, the streets weren’t just quieter, they were warmer. More hopeful. More human.