THE 2010 Fifa World Cup will bring many benefits to South Africa. The tournament will also drive a flood of misguided philanthropy, flotsam on a tidal wave of global attention.

This week, at a shiny hotel near Heathrow airport in London, more than 400 suits gathered for a banquet to mark the launch of the Streetchild World Cup, to be held in Durban next March.

“I visited Cape Town,” announced a tall Englishman, evidently the driving force behind this initiative, “and I saw the children on the streets; and I realised I would not be able to enjoy the sight of John Terry (England captain) lifting the World Cup unless I knew something was being done to help these kids, something to give them hope, recognition and dignity.”

He went on to explain how teams of street children would be assembled from nine countries, including India, Brazil, Ukraine and England. The MC asked what would happen if the street children from Kiev said they wanted to stay in sunny Durban rather than return to the miserable Ukrainian winter.

“I assure you,” the organiser replied a little too sternly, “we’ll make sure all the children are put back on the plane and flown home.” And sent back to the streets, it must be supposed.

Next, a young South African woman was ushered to the stage and urged to tell her story. She struggled to compose herself, but then related how her childhood had been dominated by abuse, and how her father had been an alcoholic and how the SA police regularly beat up the street children.

She spoke with conviction and sincerity, rising above the clunk- click chorus of clattering silver cutlery as most of the guests turned their attention to their exquisitely presented starter. One businessman was moved, and he deftly produced a monogrammed handkerchief to dab a tear from his eye.

“That is why this event is so important,” the young woman concluded. “On the streets of South Africa today, all the children are talking about the Streetchild World Cup.”

More gullible applause, more cheap sighs for Africa, more shallow emotion ... more rye bread, please.

Of course, everybody is eager to be associated with the World Cup, and the fabled power of the beautiful game to change the world, make poverty history, et cetera, so there was no shortage of celebrity endorsements for this “uplifting concept”. Archbishop Desmond Tutu and David Beckham, an unlikely duo, had provided words of unequivocal support, printed in the programme.

Jamie Redknapp, ex-footballer turned television pundit, appeared and told how he had visited a township while on tour in SA and been amazed by the skill of the children. The relevance of his contribution was not instantly clear, but it did relate to children and Africa, and was well received. Alistair Campbell, former spin doctor to Tony Blair, spouted plastic praise for “an important idea”.

It was all nonsense.

Nobody can doubt the good intentions of anybody involved, and such projects may do no harm. But, in Africa, as anywhere else, good intentions don’t add up to a bag of chips unless they are underpinned by a solid and practical plan.

How will the nine teams be selected? Will the children be paid? What will happen when they go home? Many questions, few answers.

Perhaps the street children, in SA and elsewhere, need food, shelter and education, rather than a one-week “World Cup”, which serves only to sooth a few bleeding hearts far away. Maybe the organisers should have binned the banquet, and sent whatever the event cost to a proper charity with a proper plan and a proper chance of making a lasting difference.