Lunch with Fred Platt: water, wine and a sense of belonging

I am not sure I approve of how Nelson Mandela’s former Houghton home has been turned into a boutique restaurant and hotel. It has been beautifully restored, is attractive and elegant, but lacks the warmth and character that was so apparent in the great man himself.

Fred Platt, a man of far too many talents for his own good, is involved with the Nelson Mandela Trust, and says Sanctuary Mandela is an ideal place to bring his foreign visitors.

We were escorted to the Insights Restaurant, and started off with a (rather mean) glass each of Aslina Chardonnay 2021, which was well chilled and impressive.

The menus were on single sheets of paper, folded and sealed with wax. The food, we were told, were versions of Madiba’s own favourites, with the kitchen being overseen by his former chef.

I opted for the braised oxtail ravioli while my host opted for the lentil frikkadel. He loved it, but my pasta was almost raw. I followed this with a dish called “lamb from the past” — perfectly cooked boneless lamb, very tender and so delicious.  Platt had the fish of the day — fillets of sea bass, simply prepared and he loved it.

He runs a lot, is keeping fit, so he steered clear of any more wine. I had two glasses of different reds: both excellent. They were the Steenberg Merlot 2018 and Rijk’s Private Cellar Pinotage 2015.  Neither glass was overflowing but I restrained my inner Oliver Twist and kept quiet. A rather dour portrait of Nelson Mandela was frowning down on us.  

I enjoyed my meal, apart from the incompetently prepared ravioli, but was a bit shocked by the prices. You would have needed almost a year’s worth of social grants to fund our bill, and we had been very frugal (for me) with the wine.

It was difficult to know where to start our chat, as Fred Platt is a man of so many interests. He first told of the conversations he has been having with a range of people — politicians excluded — at Sanctuary Mandela and elsewhere on trying to find a consensus, a way forward, a definition of what it is to be a South African now that the rainbow magic of Madiba’s era has faded. 

“We have lost the ability to debate,” he said. “Disagreement is not a negative, it is where we learn. Average South Africans actually have a similar view on life. Politicians like to emphasise differences.

“We have a shared experience which is never celebrated; we have more shared experience than we like to admit.”

He suggested that too few of us have any sense of belonging. “SA has not been a home to anyone,” he argued. “The young black child feels as marginalised as the young white child. We are not creating a vision of what this country can be, and getting away from the politics.”

Quietly, slowly, discreetly, Platt is discussing all of this with a wide spectrum of other concerned South Africans. 

As I glug my wine and he sips his water, we talk about water, and he knows a lot. He started a water think-tank, the SA Water Chamber, and has been advising municipalities on this major challenge. Some of the sessions have involved briefings with President Cyril Ramaphosa.

“It is costly to solve the problem, but a dysfunctional sewage works is either a massive problem or a very big opportunity — it can be a resource.

“There is water, energy, chemicals we can harvest from sewage. If you like, we can ‘mine’ the sewage works.

“Maybe we could put it out to concession and people should pay the government for the sewage. We can’t have the same minds rehashing the same problem and expect a solution.

“We need R1-trillion of infrastructure investment. The government doesn’t have it, but we need an environment where the private sector can partner with the state.”

Platt’s latest venture, Nexus Water Alchemy, was established to bring the latest global expertise to the challenge, and to become an implementation agent, working on megaprojects.

“It is shocking the amount of government funding which is returned, unspent — municipalities have no capacity to bring projects to bankable feasibility,” he complained.

He wants to see efficient use of the resources already available for improving the water infrastructure. “Technology is the biggest game-changer in water, and we are very excited about this. If you can’t have fun with business, why do it? It can’t only be for the money.”

We saw the best and the worst of health care in this country. The best was in government hospitals and the worst in private health.

—  Fred Platt

We are both about to get emotional. Platt’s wife Melissa gave birth in 2016 to a son, Sam, whose short life was spent entirely in hospitals. Sam’s Dad, as he likes to be called, subsequently founded the Footprints for Sam trust, which does invaluable work in supporting other families who endure similar experiences.

“Sam was born, and we spent 16 and a half months in ICU. He never left it. We saw the best and the worst of health care in this country,” Platt recalled.

“The best was in government hospitals and the worst in private health. The private sector is very good at organising things. Government is very good at drawing on teams, academic knowledge, the healing experience.”

I could not believe what I was hearing, but this was from someone who knows. “It was a terrible experience — a private hospital in Johannesburg continually misdiagnosed Sam; he was intubated for 13 and a half months. Sam died in my arms in a public hospital where we were treated brilliantly.”

Out of the ashes of despair, something positive has grown. The bereaved couple had two choices: to channel their anger and sue the hell out of the private hospitals that had bungled the care of their son or to pick themselves up and make a meaningful difference.    

“We saw an incredible need,” Sam’s Dad said. “Some parents didn’t have the bus fare. Their children were dying and their parents couldn’t be with them.”

Footprints for Sam has funded vehicles to provide much-needed transport for such parents, and because they spend so much time in hospitals, it has established a feeding programme.

The next move was to build a bereavement room for parents to be given a comfortable space to go to after the death of a child, and this initiative was followed by a breast-feeding room for the mothers. Most recently the trust raised R70m for the total renovation of a ward.

It wasn’t a comfortable topic for a lunchtime chat, but I am glad we had it. I had previously skirted around the subject but was glad I now understood and could appreciate what Sam’s Dad had gone through.

And knowing Mandela’s love of children, I am sure he was smiling down on him, too.