Dogs tug excitedly at their leashes as children lead them through the rolling hills. When they reach a grassy field arrayed with rows of rubber cones, the training starts. Puppies bursting with joy weave between the legs of their young handlers, while older dogs move neatly between the cones with gentle guidance – and treats – from the kids.
This is Dog School, operated by the nonprofit Funda Nenja in Mpophomeni, a semirural township in South Africa’s
KwaZulu-Natal province. Funda Nenja, which means “learn with the dog” in the isiZulu language, works to build trust, dignity, and confidence among the children of the township, where poverty and unemployment remain entrenched.
“I love coming here,” says 12-year-old Lungelo Mdeni, who has attended Dog School for three years with his pet, Roli. “I show my friends all the tricks he can do. And he also protects me. Nobody can bully me if I’m with my dog.”
Why We Wrote This
When a student at Dog School gives a cue and a dog responds, it fosters a feeling of accomplishment: I did that. Children who once feared or mistreated animals begin to show care and leadership.
Love and empathy
Dog School started in 2009, when former schoolteacher Adrienne Olivier was volunteering at a local animal shelter and conducting outreach activities in schools and other community spaces. She noticed that some children and adults in the township did not treat – or train – their dogs well.
“I spoke to a few kids and said, ‘Do you want to learn?’ And they said, ‘Yes, please,’” she recalls.
Ms. Olivier and some friends with dog-training experience enrolled 12 kids and their dogs in a three-week program. At the end, the children were so enthusiastic about what they had learned that Ms. Olivier decided to offer free weekly sessions for any kid in Mpophomeni who wanted them. “And it just grew,” she says during a phone call from Australia, where she has now retired.
At the beginning, Funda Nenja was predominantly an animal welfare organization. But soon, volunteers saw that they needed to help the children as well as the dogs. Many of the children come from difficult backgrounds.
“We couldn’t expect the children to show their dogs love, kindness, and empathy if they weren’t receiving that at home themselves,” says Lisa Button, Funda Nenja’s project administrator. “The kids learn basic obedience with their dogs, some tricks, just fun stuff. But it’s also a portal into the community.”
Purpose and a pathway
Every Friday afternoon during the school term, as many as 50 children gather at Dog School with their pets. The space serves as a learning hub, where children not only develop practical skills and knowledge about their dogs’ needs, but can also access veterinary care. Staff members say the lessons strengthen the bond between the kids and their dogs, and shape how participants relate to animals, to one another, and to their environment.
When a child gives a cue and a dog responds, it creates a clear sense of achievement: I did that. Children who once feared or mistreated animals begin to show care and leadership. Small successes, such as getting a dog to do a new trick, give many of the children a sense of confidence, in a setting where they also feel trusted and valued.
Vuyo Lakani, now 25 years old, attended Dog School when he was a boy and had two dogs.
“I think by that time I was mostly attracted to the program because, when we went back home, we would get a fruit and a juice, and also a small pack of dog food,” he says with a laugh. Dog School still provides these items.
Mr. Lakani works full time with Funda Nenja. He says he is gaining a sense of purpose and a potential pathway to other employment. In addition to computer skills, “I have learned many things with Funda Nenja,” he says.
During weekly outreach and home visits, Funda Nenja staff members, including Nomonde Dlungwane, check on the living conditions of the dogs. Ms. Dlungwane has been working for the organization since she was an intern there 10 years ago.
“We will identify people who have the will to do things better: The dog has water; it is well fed. But it is chained,” she says. “In those instances, we’ll help them fence either a portion of their property or the whole property, and then those dogs can get off their chains.”
The team also meets the parents or the caregivers of the children who attend the program. Zinhle Msimango, a social worker for Funda Nenja, says many children are living with a grandmother because their parents are either working far from home or otherwise absent from their lives.
“We offer counseling; we provide food parcels to the most vulnerable,” Ms. Msimango says.
Seeing that they are being helped rather than judged, most of the families welcome the Funda Nenja staff members and listen to their recommendations.
Shiye Mbhense, who accompanies her granddaughter Nonjabulo every week to Dog School, says that the girl “is so happy. When she comes home, the dogs greet her; they give her love. Even I’ve realized that dogs have feelings.”
Smiling wide, Nonjabulo says her dog, Bobby, follows simple cues. “She sits, she lies down, she does what I ask her,” the girl says. “She’s still struggling with ‘stay,’ because she wants to come to me. But that’s OK.”
At 9 years old, Nonjabulo already knows she wants to be a veterinarian. “I love animals,” she says. “I want to help them.”
As thunder rumbles over Mpophomeni, and the first drops of rain fall, children at the training field pull on hoodies and start to walk home, their dogs trotting faithfully alongside them. It’s a reminder that, in a place where hardship is part of daily life, there is always someone who wants them close.