Carolyn Steyn is not merely well known; she is well liked. More than 37,000 Instagram followers track her movements, while loyal listeners tune in nightly to her classical music programme, Hot Classic, on Hot 102.7 FM, drawn to that unmistakably polished voice and unforced warmth. Add to that more than a decade of highly visible philanthropy and cultural patronage, and you have a figure whose public life carries both interest and affection.
So when 2025 delivered twin blows – the deaths of her husband, Douw, and her sister, Sharon Barkhuizen – many quietly wondered what the next chapter would look like.
It has not been retreat.
After a year defined by profound loss, Steyn has leaned further into public life, guided by experience, shaped by risk and anchored by a well-earned trust in her own instinct.
Annus horribilis
In 2025, Steyn’s husband Douw, a formidable figure in the insurance industry and founder of the booming Steyn City development, and her sister Sharon passed away within months of one another. Both had suffered long illnesses.
“It was devastating,” she says.
But as the year drew to a close, something shifted. Steyn moved into her newly built home in Dainfern, north of Johannesburg – a house that carries her sister’s imprint.
“Sharon found the land, assembled the professional team and shaped the design while I was largely confined by lockdown to protect Douw’s health,” she explains.
The home, with its inviting farmhouse aesthetic and chic neutral colour palette, includes a compact, comfortable radio studio. It’s from there that Steyn presents her nightly classical music programme.
Steyn spent many happy years living at Palazzo Steyn in Steyn City, which she can still see from the balcony off her bedroom.
“I still retain ties with Steyn City,” she says. “I’ll be there often as I continue to watch with pride and joy how the team are taking Douw’s vision to great heights with their ongoing amazing projects.”
It’s about instinct
If grief narrowed Steyn’s world for a time, it has clarified her priorities. Instinct, something she speaks about often, has become an organising principle.
In Malcolm Gladwell’s 2005 book Blink, he outlines the power of instinctive decisions, arguing that our minds are often capable of making remarkably accurate judgments in the first few seconds of encountering a person, idea or situation. Drawing on psychology, neuroscience and real-world case studies, Gladwell explores how this form of rapid cognition operates beneath conscious thought, allowing people to cut through complexity and recognise patterns almost instantly.
But intuition, Gladwell cautions, is not magic. It is not guesswork or blind confidence. It is a skill developed through repetition, exposure, failure and feedback. It is the result of thousands of small decisions accumulating into something that looks effortless from the outside. Which is why, when Steyn says she trusts her gut when making big decisions, it carries weight. Her instincts are not impulsive; they are informed.
Risk and reward
Steyn is an active and established investor in stage productions, both locally and internationally. She has backed successful shows in South Africa and on the West End, including The Devil Wears Prada in London. She was also involved in local productions such as My Fair Lady, which enjoyed strong local success, and Cats, currently being staged in Joburg – all decisions that, she says, were guided by instinct.
That instinct, she emphasises, is not reckless. It is shaped by years of exposure, by understanding audiences, creative teams, timing and context. Risk, in her view, is not something to eliminate but something to respect.
“The danger is investing blindly,” she says. “Gut decisions only work when they’re backed by experience.”
It works both ways. Steyn speaks openly about choosing not to invest in Tammy Faye on Broadway, despite the project appearing sound on paper. The show later closed early, validating her decision.
“That’s the reality of theatre,” she says. “It’s high risk. You can analyse everything, but at some point you have to trust your instinct.”
The same philosophy informs her broader cultural and philanthropic work. Steyn is closely involved with the French Institute of South Africa, supporting artistic exchange and cultural dialogue between South Africa and France. After a period of personal withdrawal, she has recently deepened her engagement, resuming her French lessons and re-entering those spaces with renewed focus.
67 Blankets
Steyn is perhaps best known as the founder of 67 Blankets for Nelson Mandela Day, which recently celebrated its 12th anniversary. What began as a modest idea has grown into a global initiative that has provided warmth and dignity to hundreds of thousands of people – and evolved into a mature organisation with defined governance and operational structure.
“It all started in a very low key way in late 2013, shortly after Nelson Mandela passed away,” she recalls. “We were celebrating Douw’s birthday and talking about memories of Madiba, who was very close to Douw, and what we might do for Mandela Day the following year.”
It was during that conversation that Zelda la Grange, Mandela’s closest aide and private secretary for more than 20 years, made a simple suggestion. “She said, ‘Why not make 67 blankets?’ I hadn’t made anything out of wool since school, so I didn’t really give it much thought.”
That changed when Sharon arrived at her house with a crochet hook and a bag of wool.
“I decided I was going to do it,” she says. “It was one of those moments where you just know.”
She began crocheting on Christmas Day but quickly realised the scale of what she had committed to.
“I knew I couldn’t make 67 blankets by July,” she laughs. “So, at three o’clock in the morning, I put out a plea on Facebook.”
Her message was simple: was there anyone who might be able to help her make a blanket? She had pledged 67, and she needed help.
“The response was overwhelming,” she says. “It just exploded.”
Gathering momentum
Among those who saw the post was Mfundi Vundla, co-creator and executive producer of Generations. He suggested weaving 67 Blankets into the show’s storyline. Steyn trusted her instinct again. She agreed, played herself on screen, and introduced the concept to millions of viewers.
From there, the movement gathered momentum – across South Africa, then across Africa, and eventually around the world. Records were broken. Awards were won. But for Steyn, the impact remains deeply human.
“Yes, it’s about the people receiving warmth,” she says. “But something else is happening too. People are finding each other. They’re engaging across cultures, understanding differences, and realising how much we have in common. That’s where the magic is.”
The organisation has since entered a more structured phase. Annie Grealy was recently appointed MD.
“Annie now runs the day-to-day operations of 67 Blankets, while I oversee the strategy and ongoing values of the organisation,” Steyn says.
Committed to the arts
Steyn’s commitment to the arts runs deep and wide. She serves on the board of the Johannesburg Philharmonic Orchestra (JPO), where she is involved in governance and strategic direction rather than ceremonial roles. She has also ensured that her alma mater, Jeppe High School for Girls, remains closely connected to the arts, securing season tickets to the JPO so that pupils can experience live orchestral performances.
“Jeppe Girls occupies a special place in my life,” she says. “It’s where I developed my love for drama, which transformed me from a shy, introverted teenager into someone who could stand confidently in the world.
“Supporting that same transformation in others feels deeply personal.”
Through 67 Blankets, Jeppe Girls became an early partner, with pupils contributing thousands of blankets over the years. Beyond that, Steyn has supported the school directly, sponsoring arts initiatives, funding opportunities and backing the performing arts centre that now bears her name.
It is not visibility she seeks, but continuity. Influence rather than ceremony.
Looking forward
If grief narrowed Steyn’s world for a time, it has clarified her priorities. Her energy is once again directed outward, into causes and institutions that matter deeply to her.
At the centre remains 67 Blankets – now a seasoned organisation with stronger governance, clearer succession and growing responsibility. “The blankets are the outcome,” she says. “But the real work is people.”
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Top image: supplied.
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