The real casualties of war are seldom those who declare it.

They are the mothers who wait at windows that never again frame the silhouettes of their children. They are the fathers who bury sons and daughters instead of watching them build futures. They are children who learn to distinguish the sound of artillery before they learn to read. They are grandparents left to raise another generation while carrying the unbearable grief of the one that was lost.

War is often spoken of in the language of strategy while human beings experience it in the language of loss.

Every missile that finds its target also finds a family. Every bomb that destroys a building demolishes memories that can never be reconstructed. Every bomb that claims a life tears through generations of dreams, traditions and relationships.

Casualties cannot be measured only by death tolls. They must also be counted in shattered identities, interrupted childhoods, broken communities and futures that will never come to pass.

The vocabulary of war is strangely clinical. Military analysts speak of "collateral damage," "strategic targets," "acceptable losses" and "operational success." These phrases, while useful in military planning, can unintentionally distance us from the profound human suffering beneath them.

There is nothing collateral about a child becoming an orphan. There is nothing strategic about a grandmother searching through rubble for family photographs. There is nothing acceptable about the lifelong trauma carried by those who survive.

The greatest wounds of war are invisible.

Psychologists have long documented the enduring effects of armed conflict.Survivors frequently experience post-traumatic stress disorder, depression, anxiety and prolonged grief. Children exposed to violence are at greater risk of emotional distress, interrupted education and long-term developmental challenges. Even when peace agreements are signed, the psychological consequences often persist across generations.

Trauma has an extraordinary memory.

It echoes through families, shaping how people trust, love, parent and dream. Neuroscientific and social research increasingly suggests that severe trauma can influence subsequent generations through both social and biological pathways. Communities emerging from conflict therefore inherit not only damaged infrastructure but also invisible emotional landscapes requiring years, often decades of healing.

War also leaves deep economic scars.

Hospitals become battlefields instead of places of healing. Schools become shelters or ruins. Universities lose scholars. Farms lie abandoned. Businesses collapse. Healthcare systems weaken. Infrastructure painstakingly built over generations can disappear in days.

Rebuilding infrastructure is expensive. Rebuilding hope is immeasurably harder. The consequences extend beyond national borders. Armed conflict fuels displacement on an unprecedented scale. According to international humanitarian agencies, tens of millions of people worldwide have been forced from their homes by conflict, persecution and violence. Behind every statistic is a person carrying little more than memory, identity and the hope of survival.

Refugees rarely flee their countries because they seek opportunity. They flee from their families because staying means risking their lives .

War is also an assault on culture itself.

When Libraries burn and museums, schools and universities are destroyed, sacred places are reduced to rubble. Ancient manuscripts disappear forever. Languages fall silent when entire communities are displaced or annihilated. Humanity loses collective memory when lives are lost

Every civilisation is, in many ways, a conversation between generations. War interrupts that conversation. Perhaps the greatest tragedy is that the overwhelming majority of those caught in war never chose it. Children do not vote for conflict. Farmers do not negotiate invasions. Teachers do not author military campaigns. Nurses do not design battle plans.

Ordinary people become extraordinary survivors because extraordinary violence is imposed upon them.

International humanitarian law, including the Geneva Conventions, seeks to protect civilians, medical personnel, humanitarian workers and prisoners of war, these legal principles reflect humanity's shared recognition that even in conflict there must be limits. Yet repeated violations remind us that legal frameworks alone cannot prevent suffering and xeath. Laws require political will, accountability and an unwavering commitment to our shared humanity.

Peace, therefore, cannot mean the absence of explosions. It must mean the presence of justice. The presence of dignity, opportunity. dialogue, compassion and truth.

Without these foundations, silence after war becomes only an intermission before another conflict. The greatest investment any nation can make is not in expanding the machinery of destruction but in strengthening the architecture of peace, quality education, equitable economic opportunities, accessible healthcare, accountable leaders, diplomacy, reconciliation, cultural understanding and the protection of human rights. They are the strongest forms of national security.

Peace is not passive. It is built deliberately, courageously and collectively.

Imagine, for a moment, a world where every child falls asleep to lullabies instead of air raid sirens. Imagine a moment where schools are filled with curiosity as apposed to fear. Imagine a moment where hospitals heal instead of treating the endless wounds of conflict; Imagine a moment where borders become places of cooperation rather than division, Imagine a moment where scientific discovery outpaces a missile, imagine a moment where governments compete to eradicate poverty instead of expanding arsenals. Imagine a moment where artists, teachers, doctors, engineers and young people become the architects of a shared future.

Such a world is not an impossible dream. It's an enduring aspiration grounded in international law, diplomacy, reconciliation and our common humanity. Peace is more than the absence of war, Peace is the presence of justice, dignity, dialogue and hope.

When peace reign, nations don't survive; they flourish. Perhaps then, history will no longer be written by the wars we fought, history would be written by the humanity we chose to protect.

By Prof Linda Meyer, MD at Rosebank International

Here’s an uncomfortable question: are you growing in your career right now, or are you simply treading water?

There is a difference between being busy and making progress. You can spend your days in back-to-back meetings yet still not be moving forward in any meaningful way.

Progress, on the other hand, is about developing skills, confidence, relationships and reputation. This includes new opportunities and growing beyond the position you already have.

However, most of us never stop long enough to ask which one we’re doing. Mid-year is the ideal time to pause and get honest about where you are and where you want to be.

Where are you right now: growing, drifting or standing still?

Your career typically operates in one of three states: the proactive skill-building state of growing, the reactive momentum of drifting, or the stagnation and fatigue of standing still. Identifying your current state helps you focus on the solution that is right for you.

Growing signals an upward trajectory. It means you are intentionally acquiring skills, taking on new challenges, and aligning your work with a longer-term vision. If you are simply doing the job, you are maintaining. If you are growing, you are expanding what you are capable of.

Drifting is often the most deceptive state because it does not feel urgent. You are busy, reliable and meeting expectations, but you are saying yes to what is available rather than what aligns with your goals.

Your role has grown around you instead of being deliberately shaped by you. There is no clear next step. Peers are progressing, and you are not sure why it is not you.

Standing still means the energy has gone. You are disengaged, plateaued and possibly dreading your daily routine. There are no new skills being built, no new challenges being taken on, and no clear sense of where your career is heading.

Once you recognise the state you are in, the work of changing it can begin.

Start with what is working

The goal of a mid-year audit is not to overhaul everything. It is to get a clear idea of your present reality: what is serving you and what is not.

This is a structured way of stepping back to assess your position and whether that still aligns with who you are and what you want. It is an opportunity to look objectively at what you have built and ask a simple but important question: Is what you are doing still taking you in the right direction?

Begin by asking yourself four questions:

• What skills have I built in the last six months and are they the right ones?

• What is giving me energy at work and what is consistently draining it?

• Are my relationships at work with peers, managers and mentors helping me grow or keeping me where I am?

• Is my current role moving me closer to where I want to be, or further away?

“There are no right or wrong answers. The process works best when approached with honesty rather than judgment. What you are looking for is clarity: a picture of your professional life that tells you exactly where to focus next,” says Prof Linda Meyer, MD at Rosebank International and Visiting Professor at Nelson Mandela University.

What needs to change

Not everything that needs to change is within your control. Differentiate between what you can influence and what you cannot. Some obstacles are external: market shifts, limited growth opportunities, weak leadership or workplace politics.

Others sit closer to home: your skills, your output, your confidence, your habits and the choices you keep postponing. An effective assessment needs to look at both.

Three obstacles invariably hold professionals back:

The first is gaps in skills and experience. The skills that got you here may not be the ones that take you further. Research what is in demand in your field, where your gaps are and what it would take to close them. That may mean enrolling in a short course, pursuing a relevant qualification or learning how to position your transferable skills more clearly.

The second obstacle is one most professionals are reluctant to name: self-doubt and fear of failure. It often comes disguised as hesitation, over-preparation and declining opportunities before anyone else has the chance to reject you.

Take stock of your strengths, set measurable milestones and understand that growth can be uncomfortable. Pushing through that discomfort is often how confidence is built.

The third obstacle is environment and leadership. Sometimes the barrier is not within you but where you are. An unsupportive manager, dysfunctional workplace or a company with no clear path forward can limit your growth.

Create a support system outside your immediate environment by engaging with mentors and people in your network. This is also the time to reflect on whether your existing environment is preventing you from getting ahead. If it is, your next stage of growth may need to happen somewhere else.

When you know what is holding you back, you can start making deliberate decisions about what to change.

The one move that changes everything

After completing your audit and identifying what needs to change, the temptation is to write a long list of problems to fix. Resist it. Trying to pursue multiple goals at once scatters your focus, drains your willpower and frequently leads to giving up altogether.

Instead, ask yourself one question: what is the single most impactful action I can take in the next 90 days?

The answer requires a system.

In Atomic Habits, James Clear makes an important distinction between goals and systems. Goals provide direction. They tell you where you want to go. Systems are the habits, routines and processes that move you there. A goal is the outcome you want. A system is an action you repeatedly do to make that outcome more likely.

“Applied to your career, this means setting a clear goal for the next three months and deciding what you will do differently every week to support it,” says Prof Meyer.

“Visibility at work, for example, may mean contributing one interesting idea in each team meeting. Closing a skills gap may mean two focused learning sessions a week.

“If your goal is to grow your network, your system might be joining an industry group and attending meetings regularly to make connections beyond your immediate circle,” she says.

One clear goal. One habit to build toward it. One distraction or behaviour to remove so you can stay on track. Sustain this continuously.

The way to finish your year well is simple. Identify the right priority. Create a system around it. Repeat.

©Higher Education Media Services.

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Across Africa, the conversation about education is changing. For decades, a degree certificate has been regarded as the ultimate symbol of achievement — a passport to employment, opportunity, and upward mobility. While qualifications remain important, they are no longer enough in a world shaped by rapid technological advancement, economic uncertainty, and intensifying global competition.

Today, success depends not only on what graduates know, but also on what they can do with that knowledge. The future belongs to those who can adapt, innovate, collaborate, and lead. Higher education must therefore move beyond the degree and embrace the development of future skills as the new currency of success.

The Changing Currency of Education

A qualification demonstrates knowledge; future skills demonstrate capability.

As a leading provider of quality financial services training across South Africa, GIFS has seen firsthand how employer expectations are evolving. Organisations across sectors are increasingly looking for individuals who can think critically, solve complex problems, communicate effectively, and work across disciplines. Adaptability, creativity, resilience, and emotional intelligence are now as valuable as technical expertise.

This shift reflects a fundamental reality: education must anticipate the future, not simply respond to the present. If universities remain focused solely on traditional curricula, they risk producing graduates who are academically qualified but inadequately prepared for the challenges of a rapidly changing workplace.

The question is no longer whether graduates possess a degree, but whether they can thrive in environments defined by constant change and continuous learning.

Developing Future-Ready Leaders for Africa

Africa’s greatest asset is its people. With one of the youngest populations in the world, the continent has an unprecedented opportunity to become a global centre of innovation, entrepreneurship, and economic growth.

Realising that potential, however, will require a new approach to higher education — one that prioritises the development of future-ready leaders.

Future-ready leadership is not about memorising theories or mastering a fixed body of knowledge. It is about cultivating the ability to navigate uncertainty, make sound decisions in complex environments, inspire collaboration, and drive meaningful change. These capabilities are becoming increasingly critical as societies and industries confront disruption on an unprecedented scale.

The leaders who will shape Africa’s future are those who can combine technical expertise with adaptability, strategic thinking, and a deep understanding of people. These are not optional skills; they are essential capabilities that will determine whether Africa leads in the future economy or struggles to keep pace.

Closing the Gap Between Education and Industry

Achieving this transformation requires stronger collaboration between higher education institutions and industry.

Universities cannot prepare students for the future in isolation. Employers, academic institutions, and professional bodies must work together to ensure that graduates develop the skills required not only today, but also for the jobs and industries of tomorrow.

This means integrating real-world learning experiences into the educational journey through internships, workplace exposure, industry projects, mentorship programmes, and cross-sector partnerships. Such initiatives help bridge the gap between theory and practice, ensuring that students graduate with both academic knowledge and practical experience.

More importantly, they create graduates who can contribute meaningfully from day one — not only within their organisations, but also within their communities and broader society.

Technology as an Enabler, Not a Replacement

Artificial intelligence and digital technologies are transforming every aspect of work and society. While these innovations will continue to reshape industries, they should be viewed as tools that enhance human potential rather than replace it.

The real opportunity lies in combining technological proficiency with distinctly human capabilities such as creativity, empathy, ethical judgement, and critical thinking.

As automation takes over routine tasks, these human-centred skills will become even more valuable. The graduates who succeed will not simply be those who understand technology, but those who can use it responsibly, strategically, and creatively to solve real-world problems.

By balancing digital fluency with human insight, Africa can develop a workforce that is both globally competitive and socially conscious.

A Strategic Imperative for Africa’s Future

The urgency of this challenge cannot be overstated. Africa cannot afford to wait while the world evolves around it. The decisions made today about education and skills development will shape the continent’s competitiveness for decades to come.

This requires a commitment to reimagining curricula, embedding lifelong learning into educational systems, and prioritising leadership development at every level. It also demands a mindset shift — one that recognises learning as a continuous journey rather than a destination reached upon graduation.

By embracing this approach, higher education institutions will produce more than graduates with qualifications. They will develop leaders with vision, resilience, and the capacity to shape Africa’s future.

The degree will always hold value, but it can no longer be the sole measure of readiness. Adaptability, collaboration, leadership, critical thinking, and technological fluency have become the new currency of success.

For Africa, the stakes could not be higher. By moving beyond qualifications and investing in the development of future-ready graduates, we can unlock the continent’s greatest asset: its people.

This is more than an educational imperative; it is a strategic necessity.

It is also my clarion call whenever I am given a platform: to urge education leaders, policymakers, institutions, and influencers to use the power of their voices and their mediums to help shape the Africa we want to leave behind as our legacy. Together, we can prepare today’s students and tomorrow’s leaders to build a future defined not by limitations, but by possibility.

Dr Kershen Pillay is the chief executive officer of the Graduate Institute of Financial Services (GIFS).

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South Africa’s broad-based black economic empowerment (BEE) debate has been intensifying over the past few years, not least since the formation of the government of national unity comprising mainly two political parties opposed on the issue, the ANC and the DA.

The debate has two poles: those in favour, even advocating increased regulations and those advocating scrapping the policy, arguing it has a negative impact on economic growth, investment and employment.

Ultimately, the merits of the arguments notwithstanding, the reality, from an economic point of view, remains: 32.4% of South Africans are unemployed, with youth unemployment at a staggering 62.2%. Also uncontested is that economic growth has been sluggish, averaging only 0.8% a year since 2012.

However, with divergence of opinion on broad-based BEE persisting in this economic context, the issue requires an honest, evidence-based assessment of what the policy has achieved and what it has not.

Household income data from Statistics SA and Quantec covering 2008 to 2025, together with the latest research from the Black Management Forum (BMF) and Henley Business School Africa (2026), is invaluable.

The story that emerges is neither the triumphant transformation story the successive ANC-led administrations have presented nor the wholesale failures the opposition to the ANC has tended to articulate.

In short, the policy, with its many regulations, has delivered limited gains to a select few and operates in an economy too constrained to allow those gains to reach the majority.

What the household data shows

The numbers tell a nuanced story. On the positive side, the black middle class has grown substantially. Middle-income black households rose from 1.3 million in 2008 to nearly two million in 2025, a 52% increase representing roughly 680 000 additional households.

Black representation in boardrooms, executive management and senior management in the private and public sectors has improved markedly. Broad-based BEE has also institutionalised transformation as a permanent feature of South Africa’s economic governance; embedded learnerships and skills development programmes across the private sector; and expanded market access for black-owned businesses through preferential procurement.

But the broader picture is a cause for concern because despite 17 years of broad-based BEE policy implementation, about 70% of working-age South African households remain in the low-income category, virtually unchanged from 2008. The income pyramid has therefore not improved.

In 2025, only 2.5% of black households qualified as high-income, against 24.1% of white households. Based on the results, the broad-based BEE policy has not been effectively implemented to achieve the intended broad-based transformation goals. This gives credibility to the argument that the policy is too focused on compliance scorecards and ownership transactions among a small elite and not focused enough on creating jobs, growing enterprises and lifting incomes and opportunities at the base of the pyramid, where most of the black population remains.

The verdict regarding the research is that transformation is the right goal but the implementation and execution have been limited and, in some cases, flawed in execution.

The BMF and Henley Business School Africa’s 2026 study included a survey of more than 500 business managers. The responses were interesting in that the principle of transformation is accepted and it is recognised that it has expanded opportunity and diversified leadership.

However, B-BBEE is criticised for being a compliance exercise rather than a genuine driver of transformation. The problem is the performance-scorecard culture that has been created without contributing to transformation.

The World Bank’s Drivers of Growth Report (March 2025) reinforces this concern from a different angle. It warns that excessive regulatory complexity, including aspects of broad-based BEE, discourages investment and limits new business formation. Compliance costs fall disproportionately more on smaller businesses, the enterprises that are most likely to generate employment on a large scale.

Rising above the political noise

Dismissing every critique of broad-based BEE as racism or anti-transformation by mostly political commentators is missing the point of the debate. A more mature approach to the debate might require holding both sides simultaneously: on the one hand, that while transformation is a constitutional necessity and moral imperative, the model has not delivered sufficiently for most South Africans; on the other hand, that the model has not delivered sufficiently for most South Africans. These positions are not contradictory. They are honest reflections and the starting point for serious reform.

A practical reform agenda

If we take transformation seriously, the following six reform actions would make a material difference (although this is not the only action required):

1. Measure outcomes, not box-ticking. Replace compliance-driven scorecards with incentives tied to measurable results, for example, the number of jobs created (especially for young people), black-owned enterprises that have been established and that have survived and are growing and households that move out of the low-income category.

2. Reduce the burden on small businesses. Simplifying broad-based BEE requirements for firms with fewer than 50 employees would lower barriers to entrepreneurship and allow small enterprises to focus on growth rather than compliance administration. Small businesses are where employment could be created. Compliance is seldom recognised as a serious driver of operating costs for small businesses.

3. Align skills investment with job-creating sectors. Training programmes should be directed toward sectors capable of absorbing workers on a scale: renewable energy, construction, agro-processing, logistics and tourism are but some of the sectors. South Africa’s Just Energy Transition alone offers generational skills and employment opportunities if planned correctly.

4. The supply-chain/tender processes: Contractor track record and capacity should be more important than broad-based BEE status at the tender stage. Service delivery failures and cost overruns that have plagued government infrastructure projects are partly a product of awarding contracts based on scorecard compliance rather than demonstrated capability.

5. Ownership beyond elite transactions. Ownership must be broadened as far as possible through initiatives such as employee share ownership schemes to ensure widespread empowerment.

6. Broad-based BEE assessment and evaluation. Broad-based BEE’s impact should be assessed using real data, such as household income, employment statistics and enterprise survival rates, rather than just ownership transaction volumes. Independent reporting, free from political interference, would allow course corrections before another decade passes with the income pyramid unchanged.

Conclusion

In conclusion, broad-based BEE has produced real results but not on a broad scale. The black middle class is larger and boardrooms are more diverse but 70% of households remain low-income, the same as in 2008. Youth unemployment at 62.2% represents a fast-growing crisis with no obvious short-term solutions.

The answer is not to scrap transformation but to change implementation. The current outcomes of broad-based BEE, a compliance-driven, elite-capture-prone model of empowerment, are failing many of the people it was designed to serve. South Africa needs an amended policy framework that is outcome-focused, administratively lean, independently evaluated and genuinely broad-based. The policy must reward enterprises for creating jobs and growing incomes, not for ticking boxes. It must be one that can be defended on its merits because it is visibly working.

*The views expressed in this article are that of the author/s and do not necessarily reflect that of the University of Johannesburg.

Professor Daniel Meyer: College of Business and Economics, University of Johannesburg. He recently published an opinion article that first appeared in the Mail & Guardian on 4th July 2026.

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On the surface, South Africa’s digital credentials tell only part of the story. The country ranks 46th out of 147 economies in Microsoft’s Global AI Diffusion Report for Q1 2026, ahead of every other African country measured, and its generative AI usage has risen to 23.1% of the working-age population.

Yet for the majority of South Africans, the conversation about artificial intelligence is happening in a world they cannot fully access. Only 16% of adults own a computer, and many have never used one.

When a Laptop Costs More Than a Month’s Wages

The reality, however, is more complicated. According to the latest available Stats SA earnings data, the median monthly wage for South African workers stands at R5 417. With entry-level computers costing upwards of R6 000, a laptop represents more than a full month’s wages for roughly half the workforce.

For someone earning at or below that median, buying a computer becomes a major financial barrier. According to the most recent available ITU data, only 26% of South African households had a computer at home.

Without regular access to a computer, millions of South Africans do not have the opportunity to build the basic computer literacy now needed for study, work and participation in the AI-driven economy.

Connected, but still locked out

The digital divide is no longer just about having an internet connection. It now includes computer and digital literacy, in addition to device availability and connection quality. Connectivity means being online, having a phone, a data connection and access to the internet.

On this measure, South Africa appears to score well, with ICASA’s 2026 State of the ICT Sector Report showing that 82.1% of households had internet access from some location, while mobile access remains the dominant form of connectivity.

Capability, however, is something else entirely. For the majority of South Africans, limited digital literacy means they may be online but are not equipped to use that connection further for learning, work or opportunity.

Consider what that means in practice. Writing a CV, completing an online job application, using spreadsheet software, attending a virtual lecture, navigating a government portal, or using AI tools are all within reach digitally. But engaging with them effectively requires a level of computer and digital skills that go well beyond scrolling social media or sending a WhatsApp message.

For the majority of South Africans, a smartphone is the only internet-enabled device they own. Being connected is not the same as being equipped to participate in the new digital era. For millions of South Africans, digital exclusion is the reality.

The classroom roots of the divide

The problem begins long before adulthood. According to the DBE’s 2025 Education Facility Management System report, just under half of South Africa’s public schools had a computer centre, meaning more than 11 000 schools still did not.

Fewer than 10% of maths educators have computers in their classrooms, leaving many learners with little regular exposure to the basic tools of the digital economy. For many, a computer is something they encounter for the first time at a tertiary institution or in the workplace.

“This means that thousands of learners arrive without the basic computer literacy skills needed for post-school study and the workplace,” says Barbara Cawcutt, general manager at ICB (International Certifications for Business).

“As they start on the back foot, tertiary institutions have a responsibility to step in to address this gap with foundational digital skills support, including basic proficiency on a laptop or desktop, to open the door for students to fully participate in education, work and the digital economy.”

The case for foundational skills

Millions of South Africans have never had access to the basics. Knowing how to use a keyboard and mouse, save and find a document, navigate a browser and use basic software are not optional extras.

They are the entry point to tertiary education, to workplace participation and to the AI economy that is rapidly changing how South Africans work, learn and participate in public life. In a world increasingly shaped by AI, that starting point has never mattered more.

“With digital literacy levels critically low, it is imperative to start with foundational computer and digital literacy,” says Cawcutt.

“As tertiary institutions we can play a key role in bridging this gap and preventing South Africans who are already excluded from falling deeper into economic and social isolation.”

The urgency of that intervention becomes even clearer when awareness itself is measured. A national survey by the HSRC found that for 73% of South Africans the term “AI” barely registers. This illustrates the extent of the divide. AI adoption and computer illiteracy are moving in opposite directions, perpetuating an ever-widening gap. Without foundational computer skills, the conversations happening in boardrooms and tech hubs about AI adoption, digital transformation and the future of work will remain an ivory tower, inaccessible to the millions of South Africans left behind.

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Naledzani “Nale” Mashapa, the President of the South African Students Congress (SASCO) in 1993, during the transition from apartheid to democracy, and a strong campaigner for a non-racial student movement, unlike many other student leaders of the period who leveraged the student movement to secure high office in the African National Congress and government, went to work to strengthen worker rights after his student leadership stint.

Mashapa passed away recently. Born in 1966, Mashapa was from Sibasa, Limpopo, the former capital of the Venda Bantustan before the capital was moved to Thohoyandou.

Mashapa was instrumental in preventing SASCO from splitting into two separate organisations in the run-up to the organisation’s 20^th national conference in 2020. SASCO had prior to the 2020 conference, failed three times to string together a united conference, elected its national executive committee (NEC).

The two rival SASCO factions, those supporting competing presidential candidates Luyanda Tenge and Bamanye Matiwane, planned to host two separate and rival elective conferences at the same time, one planned for Mpumalanga and the other for KwaZulu Natal. He was asked to mediate to unite the two disparate factions to prevent the formation of two rival SASCO organisations. He successfully did this.

I met Mashapa at the University of the Western Cape in the early 1990s, where he was also studying, and where I edited the multiple award-winning student community newspaper, Student Voice. His opinion was widely used in the student newspaper.

We had many animated political discussions, particularly with our mutual friend, the late Chris Matlhako, who later became deputy general secretary of the South African Communist Party [Chris Matlhako: SACP stalwart forged in ‘fire and ash’].

Some of the issues we sparred over, included whether ANC negotiators were making too many compromises in its negotiations with the National Party in the Convention for a Democratic South Africa (Codesa) negotiations, whether a Nuremberg-style Truth Commission should be established and whether it was the right decision to disband the United Democratic Front, and not have it continue as a civil society organisation.

Mashapa cut his political teeth in the late 1980s in the South African Youth Congress, being active in the Far North region, present day Limpopo, of the organisation. He became a dominant national student leader during the period following the merger of the black ANC-aligned South African National Student Congress (SANSCO) and the liberal white National Union of Students of South Africa (NUSAS) in 1991, to form SASCO.

During the same period, the black student newspapers and radio stations, combined with the liberal white counterparts in the South African Student’s Press Union (SASPU). I was elected to the national executive of SASPU. SASPU—which produced the national publications SASPU National and SASPU Focus—operated as an alternative press network that fought against the apartheid government’s heavy censorship.

The merger of the white and black student movements, which became the first racial integration of political formations, following the unbanning of the ANC in 1990, was controversial, with many ANC leaders and student activists actively opposing it. Mashapa was a strong proponent of the merger, on the basis that it could create a truly non-racial national student organisation.

UWC was also at the forefront of the merging of the different race-based student sport organisations. The South African Universities Sport Council (SAUSC) and the non-racial South African Tertiary Institutions Sports Council (SATISCO) moved in 1991 to form a unified non-racial tertiary dispensation, with UWC student sport activists leading these negotiations. Jakes Gerwel, the UWC’s principal at the time in February 1994 chaired the Interim Committee of the South African Student Sports Union (SASSU) meeting which would officially constitute the merged South African Student Sports Union (SASSU) later that year.

Mashapa was elected the second President of the new NUSAS and SANSCO merged SASCO in 1993. Significantly, two UWC student leaders, Mashapa as head of SASCO, and the late Carol Moses, as head of SASPU, were now leading South Africa’s largest and merged student movements during this turbulent period of the country’s transition from apartheid to democracy.

UWC at the time was called the “home of the (South African) Left”. The university, a festival of ideas, was also home to many national student leaders of non-ANC aligned student formations, such as the Pan Africanist Students Organisation, the black Conscious Azanian Students Organisation. UWC also had a heavy presence of key leaders from the Namibian National Students Organisation.

UWC was also at the centre of the modern black women’s feminist movement. Kopanang, the new generation women’s black women feminist group was formed by women students at the university and made the UWC the primary centre for women’s advocacy in politics, the marketplace and society. Several of the Kopanang leadership were on the Student Voice editorial collective and shaped the publication’s content and direction.

Student Voice for example ran thought-proving pieces, such as Gloria Steinem’s “If Men Could Menstruate”. UWC also hosted the pioneering Gender Equality unit, led by the formidable women’s rights activists Rhoda Kadalie, who was later a commissioner of the post-apartheid Gender Commission.

UWC under the leadership of the late Prof Jakes Gerwel, and the Chancellorship of the late Archbishop Desmond Tutu, was also at the forefront of policymaking for the new democratic South Africa. The outlines of the new democratic Constitution, of the ANC’s Reconstruction and Development Programme (RDP) and the form of a Truth and Reconciliation Commission that would probe apartheid-era human rights abuses were interrogated here.

Key ANC figures were based at UWC, such as the late Prof Kader Asmal, the late Dullah Omar, Zola Skweyiya, Albie Sachs and Bulelani Ngcuka were based at the university.

UWC was also at the centre of the racial integration of the adult sports organisations. Danny Jordaan, a former UWC lecturer and soccer player was a pivotal figure in unification of South African football in the 1990s. Wilfred Daniels, former athletics champion who studied and coached at UWC, was tasked by the ANC to help with athletics and broad sports unity talks in Lusaka in the late 1980s. Daniels successfully helped pushed for the merger of the racially segregated athletics sporting organisations.

Makhenkesi Arnold Stofile, a theologian at UWC, was also a driving force in the anti-apartheid sports movement. He was president of the non-racial South African Council on Sport (SACOS) and became Minister of Sport and Recreation in the post-apartheid-era. Harry Hendricks, another leading UWC sports leader, who was involved in the South African Senior Schools Sports Association (SASSSA) was instrumental in establishing unified, non-racial school sports organisations.

This was a period filled with a heady mix of wild hope for the future and also worry that the country could be plunged into violent chaos, caused by verkrampte groups of the ancien apartheid regime, and by black conservative groups aligned with it, and by criminal groups taking advantage of the power vacuum opened by the last days of apartheid.

Mashapa initially started his studies at the University of Venda in 1987, based in the old Venda Bantustan. In 1988, he clashed with the Venda university administration for “operating as an administrative extension of the illegitimate Venda Bantustan regime”, aligned to the Nationalist apartheid government. The Venda Bantustan administration in 1988, following student protests against the regime, sent the police to occupy the university and evicted many student protestors from the residences, including Mashapa. He transferred to UWC.

Thivhilaeli Eric Makatu, a lawyer, and fellow student with Mashapa at Venda University during the 1988 Venda University student protests, wrote that Mashapa “spent every waking hour strategising against the fascist might of the homeland government and went toe-to-toe, not only with the formal police, but with the brutal, state-sponsored vigilante squads like Tshitangu Tsha Phila Misevhe, the reactionary forces deployed to terrorise, spy and divide youth solidarity”.

Mashapa at UWC belonged to the group of student activists who were called “klipgooiers” (stone throwers), as they were the first out in street protest to take on the police or the army. Although, Mashapa was at the time viewed by some fellow students as a firebrand, he was in private reserved, warm, and humble, with a great sense of humour, and a loved a party.

He was self-effacing. David Maimela, president of SASCO in 2006 said Mashapa “believed the spotlight should not shine on him, even when he suffered personal setbacks, he was not the one to be loud about it – something which I find humbling and frustrating at once! If I recall well, he is the same person who would say: ‘Why do you make such a big fuss about my birthday?.”

Mashapa fiercely pushed for an incoming ANC government to establish a national student financial scheme, initially called the Tertiary Education Fund of South Africa (TEFSA), now called the National Student Financial Aid Scheme (NSFAS).

The last time we saw each other was at the 40th anniversary of the United Democratic Front in August 2023 at the Johannesburg City Hall. He was working on a book on the history of the South African student movement.

Mashapa was a fierce non-racialist. He was at the forefront of the 1991 white liberal NUSAS and black ANC-aligned SANSCO merger, because he genuinely believed it would create a non-racial, progressive national student movement in South Africa. Sadly, contemporary SANSCO has, like the ANC, largely lost its non-racial make-up, now being predominantly a black organisation.

David Maimela, president of SASCO in 2006, said that Mashapa was “never a regionalist or tribalist”. Having myself grown up in the 1970s and 1980s largely in the tough urban townships and informal settlements, where communities of different racial groups were already beginning to clandestinely living together in defiance of apartheid, and I was therefore an a non-tribalist from early on; I was amazed to at university meet the likes of Mashapa, and the late Matlhako, who grew up in deep rural areas and in monolithic ethnic communities, but who were nonetheless deeply non-racial and non-tribal.

Mashapa in his post-SASCO days were opposed to the ANC Youth League and the youth formations of political parties setting-up at higher education institutions, believing this would move student politics away from ‘bread and butter’ students issues, such as the quality of education, access to funding and financial exclusions to political student formations becoming parrots of their parent political parties.

Sadly, South Africa’s student movement has now largely become uncritical, pliant appendages of political parties. They mostly lack independence, repeating their mother parties’ empty, old slogans and rhetoric, mimicking their outdated, old world, leadership styles, such as command-and-control, self-enrichment, transactional and black-and-white approaches.

They have failed to come up with fresh ideas and approaches, appropriate to our complex times, where the fusion of technologies blur the lines between the physical, digital, and biological spheres, the merger of AI with automation, in which traditional software combines with machine learning and natural language processing.

For another, traditional factory model of employment has been permanently disrupted, by automation, robotics, and AI, has meant that the demand for humans on the assembly line has decreased. Supply chains are in increasingly spread across different countries, where sourcing of inputs, the manufacturing and the distribution, logistics and marketing of a product often take place across countries. Dramatic social changes are disrupting societal and cultural norms, institutions and identities.

All these structural disruptions demand new kinds of leadership, new ideas and imagination, which the current political party mini-me student movement leadership is sadly not delivering.

In the post-student movement Mashapa joined the trade union movement, working among others for the South African Municipal Workers Union (Samwu), the affiliate of the Congress of South African Trade Unions (Cosatu). We initially remained in touch, because I had also joined the trade union movement, securing my first job at Cosatu at its head office in Johannesburg.

Mashapa was an opponent of the more market-friendly Growth, Employment and Redistribution (GEAR), introduced by then ANC and South African Deputy President Thabo Mbeki in 1996 to stabilise the country’s economy. It aimed to reduce the budget deficit, slash public debt, reduce trade tariffs, and integrate the South Africa into the global economy.

While GEAR stabilized South Africa’s macroeconomic environment—reducing inflation and public debt— it was criticised by the ANC’s tripartite alliance partners, the Congress of South African Trade Unions and the South African Communist Party who argued it was “neo-liberal,” had prioritized fiscal conservatism, privatised some state-owned entities, and did not meet its job creation targets.

Mashapa also opposed the ANC-led Johannesburg city’s disliked EGOLI 2000 reforms strategy which restructured the city into a “unicity”, and corporatised municipal services, such as Johannesburg Water, Pikitup and City Power, turning these into standalone entities delivering public services. Mashapa and critics of EGOLI2000 said that it was a case of changing the institutional design, without dealing with lack of accountability and poor governance by elected and public officials, capacity failures, lack of competence and systemic corruption – the root causes of Johannesburg’s crises.

Pheello Oliphant, a public sector communicator, who met Mashapa in at SASCO’s 1995 national conference, which he attended as a delegate whilst in his first year, said Mashapa “eschewed high government offices and blue lights”, was “never detached” from the struggles “of the masses”, and “never aloof, but approachable”.

Mashapa leaves behind his wife Phatuwani and his daughter Masana.

Prof William Gumede was the former Editor of the Student Voice student community newspaper, the former Head of the South African Students News agency (Sasnews) and former national executive member of the South African Students’ Press Union (SASPU).

©Higher Education Media Services.

For decades, society has celebrated IQ as the gold standard of success. Parents proudly discuss reading levels, mathematics scores, and academic achievement, believing these are the strongest predictors of a child’s future.

But emerging evidence from classrooms, neuroscience, and early childhood development research tells a very different story: children who are emotionally secure, socially connected, and confident often outperform their peers cognitively over time.

In simple terms, happy children learn better.

Across South Africa, many young children arrive at school carrying burdens far heavier than their school bags. Poverty, violence, instability, neglect, hunger, and emotional trauma affect not only a child’s wellbeing but also their ability to learn. When a child feels unsafe, unseen, or anxious, the brain shifts into survival mode.

In this state, higher-order thinking, concentration, memory retention, language development, and problem-solving become significantly more difficult.

On the other hand, children who feel loved, confident, emotionally secure, and connected are far more likely to engage, participate, explore, and take risks in learning.

They develop resilience. They communicate more effectively. They collaborate better with peers and teachers. Most importantly, they build the internal confidence required to tackle academic challenges.

At Afrika Tikkun Bambanani, this relationship between emotional wellbeing and academic success is no longer just theory, it is measurable reality.

Over the past five years, the Bambanani Online Assessment Centre has tracked the development of more than 75,000 children across over 800 ECD centres throughout South Africa.

The assessments monitor eight key developmental and learning areas, including language, mathematics, cognitive development, motor skills, and social-emotional development.

The findings have been both powerful and consistent.

Children who score highly in social and emotional development almost always perform better in literacy, comprehension, numeracy, classroom participation, and school readiness.

These children transition more successfully into Grade 1 and adapt better to formal schooling environments. They are more confident to ask questions, better able to regulate their emotions, more willing to engage in learning tasks, and less likely to withdraw or display disruptive behaviour.

In many cases, emotional intelligence has proven to be a stronger predictor of long-term success than early academic ability alone.

This should fundamentally change how we think about education.

A child who can memorise numbers but cannot manage frustration may struggle to cope when learning becomes difficult. A child who can read fluently but lacks empathy, resilience, or confidence may battle socially and emotionally in later years.

Conversely, a child with strong emotional intelligence often develops the perseverance and adaptability needed to overcome academic gaps over time.

The future workforce will not only require intelligence. It will require collaboration, emotional regulation, creativity, communication, empathy, leadership, and problem-solving, all skills deeply rooted in emotional development.

Yet many schools and early childhood programmes still prioritise worksheets over wellbeing.

Children are pushed to perform academically before they have developed the emotional foundations necessary for healthy learning. We often ask young children to sit still, memorise, and perform, while neglecting the very skills that allow the brain to thrive: confidence, belonging, curiosity, connection, and joy.

Neuroscience confirms what many teachers have always known instinctively: relationships shape the brain.

When children feel emotionally safe, neural pathways linked to learning strengthen. Play based learning, storytelling, music, movement, affection, and positive interaction stimulate cognitive growth. Emotional wellbeing is not separate from academic learning, it is the foundation of it.

This is particularly important in South Africa, where many children face adversity from a very young age. Early childhood development cannot focus only on literacy and numeracy outcomes. It must intentionally nurture emotional resilience, self-worth, kindness, empathy, and confidence.

The most successful classrooms are often not the quietest or the most rigid. They are the ones filled with warmth, encouragement, laughter, belonging, and emotionally responsive adults.

Teachers who build children emotionally are building brains.

Parents who affirm their children are shaping future learning.

Communities that invest in emotional wellbeing are investing in educational success.

Perhaps it is time we stop asking only, “How clever is this child?” and begin asking a far more important question:

“How does this child feel about themselves?”

Because children who believe they matter are far more likely to believe they can succeed.

And when children feel safe, valued, and emotionally strong, they do not only thrive socially, they thrive cognitively, academically, and for life.

For more information about Afrika Tikkun Bambanani, please visit https://afrikatikkunbambanani.org/

Theresa Micheal is CEO of Afrika Tikkun Bambanani.

©Higher Education Media Services.

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This summit deals with one of the most urgent and sensitive issues in our higher education system. Student accommodation is not a peripheral matter. It is not an administrative add-on. It is not simply about beds, buildings and leases.

Student accommodation is about dignity. It is about safety. It is about whether a young person from a poor or working-class family can enter university, remain there, study with peace of mind, and complete their qualification.
A student who does not know where they will sleep cannot fully concentrate on learning. A student who is threatened with eviction because of a payment dispute they did not create cannot be expected to perform academically. A student who lives in unsafe, overcrowded or poorly located accommodation is not being given a fair opportunity to succeed.
That is why the theme of this summit is important: Advancing Dignified Student Accommodation: The Future of Student Housing in South Africa.

But let me say upfront: dignity cannot be reduced to slogans. Dignity must be translated into systems, standards, funding models, payment processes, inspections, accountability and consequences.
Student accommodation and student success
In our view as a government, student accommodation must be understood as part of the learning environment.
A residence is not only a place where a student sleeps. It must be a place where a student is safe, connected, supported and able to study. It must provide access to water, electricity, sanitation, internet connectivity, study spaces, disability access, security and a broader environment that supports wellbeing.
It must also contribute to social cohesion. Residences must help build communities where students from different backgrounds learn to live together, respect one another and grow beyond the classroom.
The future of student accommodation must therefore be judged by one simple test: does it improve the conditions for student success?
If it does not, then it does not meet the standard we require.
The honest diagnosis
We must also be honest about the current moment.
For many years, the main discussion around student accommodation was about shortage. That problem remains real.

Demand continues to exceed supply. Each year, more students enter the higher education system, and the pressure on available accommodation grows.
But the crisis has evolved.
Today, the student accommodation challenge is not only about the shortage of beds. It is also about governance, funding, payment delays, regulation, accreditation, affordability, safety and institutional coordination.
Students are raising legitimate concerns about delayed payments to accredited providers, threats of eviction, unbudgeted top-up fees, historical accommodation-related debt, accreditation delays, unsafe accommodation and weak enforcement of standards.
We must listen to those concerns. But listening does not mean that any stakeholder determines what the government must say or do. It means we take evidence seriously. It means we engage honestly. It means we apply the law, policy and the public interest with firmness.
The Department has a responsibility to the whole system: to students, institutions, NSFAS, legitimate providers, public funds and the long-term sustainability of higher education.
We will therefore approach this matter with seriousness, not populism; with urgency, not panic; and with accountability, not blame-shifting.
Payment delays and student stability
One of the immediate issues we must confront is the instability caused by delayed accommodation payments.
Where students are funded, where accommodation is properly accredited, where claims are valid, and where all required verification has been completed, payments must be made efficiently and timeously.
It is unacceptable for students to carry the anxiety of disputes between NSFAS, institutions and providers.
No student should be placed at risk of eviction because of administrative failure.

No student should miss classes because a payment process has broken down. No student should be left in limbo because two parts of the system are not properly coordinated.
At the same time, we must be clear: public funds must be protected. Payments cannot be made outside proper verification, compliance and accountability processes.
The answer to payment delays cannot be to weaken controls. The answer is to build a payment system that is both efficient and credible.
That is the balance we must strike.
NSFAS must improve its systems. Institutions must play their role. Providers must comply with standards and submit accurate information. The Department must ensure that the policy framework is clear and enforceable.
Affordability, top-ups and historical debt
Accommodation costs have become a major burden for many students. We are aware of concerns about top-up fees, inconsistent charges, accommodation costs above NSFAS or institutional caps, and historical accommodation-related debt.
We must deal with this carefully.
We cannot make irresponsible promises. We cannot stand here and promise that every historical debt will simply disappear. We cannot promise that every accommodation provider will be paid any amount they claim. We cannot promise that every student will immediately receive accommodation in the location of their choice.
But we can say this: the current model requires serious review. A uniform national cap does not always reflect the reality of different accommodation markets. The cost structure in one city or town may be very different from another.

The requirements of safe, well-located, properly serviced accommodation differ across contexts.
We therefore need a more intelligent funding and pricing framework. One that protects students from exploitation. One that recognises legitimate costs. One that prevents inflated claims. One that ensures that public funding supports quality, safety and affordability.
The question is not simply whether the cap must go up or down. The question is whether the model is fair, sustainable, evidence-based and resistant to abuse.
Accreditation and standards
The third issue is accreditation.
Accreditation must never become a paper exercise. It is not enough for a building to appear on a list. Accreditation must mean that the accommodation is safe, suitable, properly located, compliant and conducive to learning.
We have received reports of accommodation that is overcrowded, poorly maintained, unsafe, inadequately secured, poorly serviced, or not properly integrated into the student support environment.
That cannot be accepted.

If a property is accredited, it must meet the required norms and standards. If it does not meet those standards, then corrective action must follow. If there was negligence, there must be accountability.

If there was fraud or corruption, the matter must be referred to the appropriate authorities. We must protect legitimate providers who are doing the right thing. They are important partners in expanding access to accommodation.
But those who see student housing merely as an opportunity to extract public money, without providing dignified and safe accommodation, have no place in this sector. Public money must follow students, but it must not follow fraud.
The role of NSFAS, universities and the Department
We must also confront a design issue.
What is the role of NSFAS? What is the role of universities? What is the role of the Department? What is the role of providers?
If these roles are unclear, students suffer.
NSFAS is responsible for administering financial aid and ensuring that public funds are used properly. Universities are closest to students, campuses, residence life, safety conditions, academic support and local accommodation realities.
The Department must set policy, regulate the system and ensure accountability.
The future cannot be built on duplication, confusion or competition between institutions and NSFAS.

We need a clearer model. NSFAS must not become a distant bureaucratic landlord. Universities cannot abdicate responsibility for the living conditions of their students. Providers cannot operate outside standards. Students cannot be treated as passive recipients.
The accommodation system must be built around the student, not around institutional silos.
Safety, wellbeing and gender justice
Dignified accommodation is also about safety and wellbeing.
This is especially important for women students and vulnerable students.
When students are desperate for accommodation, they can be exposed to unsafe living arrangements, exploitation, harassment and violence.

When accommodation is far from campus, poorly lit, poorly secured or disconnected from transport, students are placed at risk.
We must therefore treat student accommodation as part of our broader work on student wellness, gender-based violence prevention, campus safety and mental health.

Accommodation policy must include practical safety standards: access control, lighting, proximity to transport, emergency response arrangements, reporting mechanisms, security, and clear institutional responsibility.

We must also be firm that accommodation must never be used as a tool of patronage, manipulation or power.
No student leader, staff member, provider or official should ever use access to accommodation to control, exploit or intimidate students. Accommodation allocation must be transparent, fair and governed by clear rules.
Infrastructure and development
Even as we deal with the immediate crisis, we must not lose sight of the long-term opportunity. South Africa needs more student accommodation. That requires investment.

It requires public and private partnerships. It requires universities, development finance institutions, commercial banks, municipalities, Infrastructure South Africa, DBSA, Human Settlements, Public Works and ethical private providers to work together.
Student accommodation is also a local development issue.
When properly planned, student housing can regenerate precincts, support local economies, improve urban safety, create jobs and contribute to infrastructure development.

But when poorly planned, it can create overcrowding, transport problems, unsafe environments, municipal service pressures and conflict with surrounding communities.
This means municipalities must be part of the solution. Student accommodation must be linked to zoning, transport, water, electricity, safety, broadband and urban planning. We must build not only more beds, but better student communities.

What must come from this summit
This summit must not become another gathering where we diagnose what we already know.

We know there are shortages.
We know there are payment delays.
We know there are affordability pressures.
We know there are accreditation weaknesses.
We know there are unsafe residences.
We know students are frustrated.
The real question is: what are we going to do about it?

I therefore want to invite this summit to produce practical, implementable recommendations. Not only a declaration.
A declaration is useful, but implementation is what changes students’ lives.

I would like this summit to assist us with proposals on the following:
First, a stronger accreditation and inspection model.
Second, a more sustainable and fair accommodation funding framework.

Third, measures to prevent evictions where students are caught in administrative disputes.
Fourth, a clearer division of responsibilities between NSFAS, universities, providers and the Department.
Fifth, minimum safety and wellbeing requirements for all accredited accommodation.

Sixth, mechanisms to identify and act against ghost beds, inflated claims, overcharging, non-compliant properties and corrupt practices.
Seventh, a framework for student participation and reporting without compromising institutional governance.
Eighth, a long-term infrastructure plan for expanding dignified student accommodation.
Ministerial direction
From the side of the Ministry, I will be asking the Department, working with NSFAS and relevant sector partners, to process the outcomes of this summit as part of a broader student accommodation reform process.
This work must include a review of NSFAS accommodation protocols, accreditation and quality assurance arrangements, the accommodation cap and affordability model, payment systems and escalation mechanisms, and the roles of universities, NSFAS and the Department.

I will also expect urgent reporting on students at risk of eviction, unpaid valid claims, payment backlogs and high-risk accommodation sites. This is not because the government wants to centralise everything. It is because the system must work. Students must not be punished for institutional failure.
Partnership and accountability
Let me also speak directly to each stakeholder.
To students and student leaders: continue to raise the lived experience of students. But also help us build solutions that are fair, lawful and implementable. Student leadership must be a force for transparency, not patronage; for dignity, not disruption; for accountability, not shortcuts.
To universities: student accommodation is part of student success. Institutions must not treat accommodation as something outside their academic responsibility. Where students live affects whether they graduate.
To NSFAS: the payment and accommodation systems must become more reliable, more transparent and more accountable. Students and providers need certainty. Public funds need protection.
To accommodation providers: government recognises the role of legitimate providers. We need ethical partners. But this sector cannot be allowed to become a site of exploitation. If you receive public funds to house students, you must meet public standards.
To municipalities and infrastructure partners: student housing must be part of development planning. We need safe precincts, reliable services, transport, lighting, connectivity and land-use planning that supports student life.
To the Department: we must lead with clarity. Where policy is unclear, we must fix it. Where implementation is weak, we must intervene. Where standards are ignored, we must enforce them.
Conclusion
The future of student accommodation is not simply about constructing more buildings.
It is about building opportunity.
It is about ensuring that a young person from a rural village, a township, a working-class family or a child-headed household can enter higher education and live in conditions that affirm their dignity.
It is about making sure that public funding supports learning, not exploitation.
It is about ensuring that student housing contributes to safety, wellbeing, transformation and academic success.
Let this summit not be remembered as another discussion about the accommodation crisis. Let it be remembered as the point at which we began to rebuild the student accommodation system around dignity, affordability, safety, accountability and student success. Those who want to work with us to build such a system will find a partner in government. Those who want to exploit students, undermine standards or abuse public funds must know that this Ministry will not look away. Together, through partnership, firm regulation and shared accountability, we can build a student accommodation system that reflects the values of our Constitution and gives every student a fair chance to belong, to learn and to succeed.

©Higher Education Media Services.

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• The Governing Body Foundation national report on the administrative load of public-school principals should force a national conversation about the administrative burden placed on schools and public institutions.

• When did paperwork become more important than educating children?

• South Africa’s principals are becoming administrators when they should be leaders.

• A completed report has never taught a child to read.

• The best way to improve schools may be to ask principals for fewer reports.

The GBF (Governing Body Foundation) national report on the administrative load of public-school principals should be read as more than just another education survey. It is a distress signal from the people expected to hold our schools together.

According to the report, 84% of principals routinely work after hours to keep up with administrative demands; 92% say the administrative load is higher or much higher than it was five years ago; 71% experience a negative impact on their ability to perform their core duties as school leaders, and 59% say the burden makes them seriously consider leaving their role.

A principal is the heartbeat of a school: the moment you enter the gates, you can feel whether leadership has built a culture of care, discipline and safety, and that culture ultimately drives the school’s performance and it influences young educators’ decision to enter or leave the profession.

When nearly six out of ten school leaders are thinking of walking away, government should not ask for another report. It should ask what its own systems are doing to schools.

The most troubling finding is not simply that principals are busy. School leadership has always required long days and strong commitment. The troubling point is that so much of this time is now being consumed by paperwork, repeated reporting, evidence files, short-notice requests, duplicated information and compliance demands.

Many principals are not working overtime because they are designing better teaching strategies, mentoring young teachers or engaging parents. They are working overtime to feed a bureaucracy that too often appears unable to distinguish between meaningful accountability and administrative noise.

Time is not an elastic resource. Every hour a principal spends completing another template is an hour not spent observing teaching, supporting staff, helping learners, solving safety concerns, strengthening school culture or planning improvement.

The question government must answer is therefore not whether schools have submitted the required documents. The real question is whether those documents have improved learning, leadership or service delivery. If they have not, then the system is not strengthening education; it is draining it.

This is managerialism at its most damaging. Managerialism is the belief that institutions can be improved through more targets, more plans, more reports, more monitoring and more measurable “evidence”.

It often enters public institutions wearing the respectable clothing of efficiency and accountability. But when taken too far, it produces the opposite: mistrust, duplication, fear, risk avoidance and compliance without learning.

In education, managerialism slowly turns principals into clerks, teachers into data capturers, and departments into machines that demand proof of activity rather than evidence of impact.

There is a useful phrase for this: bureaucratic bluffing. The system looks busy. It produces files, dashboards, templates, signatures, plans and submissions. It creates the appearance of control. But the key question remains unanswered: where does all this administration lead? Is it read carefully?

Is it used to give schools better support? Does it help departments allocate resources fairly and address needs during budget allocation? Does it identify risks sooner? Does it improve teaching and learning? Does it create a better future for our young people? Or does it merely move from one desk to another, creating the illusion that something important has been done?

A thick compliance file does not mean a school is improving. A signed plan does not mean a learner can read. A submitted report does not mean a teacher has been supported. A completed checklist does not mean fewer learners drop out.

Government must stop confusing paperwork with performance. The visible existence of administration is not proof of value. In fact, excessive administration may be evidence of a system that has lost trust in its own professionals.

Let principals focus on what they were appointed to do: lead. The word “principal” comes from the Latin prīncipālis – “first in importance, chief, leader”. That is what they should be allowed to be. Accountability must sharpen focus, not scatter it.

It should support leaders, not exhaust them. A principal sets the tone, shapes the culture, builds trust and drives performance - the very heartbeat of a school. If we want better schools, we must give principals the time and space to lead

The first leadership lesson from the GBF report is that accountability must be purposeful. Good leaders do not ask for information simply because they can. They ask for information because it will inform a decision, trigger support, reduce risk, improve learning or protect resources.

If a reporting requirement cannot pass that test, it should be removed. Public institutions must adopt a simple discipline: no form without a purpose, no template without a user, no report without a decision, and no compliance demand without visible value.

The second leadership lesson is that trust is not the enemy of accountability; it is the foundation of high performance. Schools need clear goals, ethical governance, financial discipline and transparency.

But they also need professional space. Leaders must be trusted to lead, not merely monitored to comply. Departments should spend less energy extracting evidence from schools and more energy asking what schools need to perform better. A system built only on suspicion will produce defensive compliance. A system built on intelligent trust will produce responsibility, initiative and improvement.

This lesson is not limited to schools. Municipalities, hospitals, universities and public entities experience the same pattern: more plans, more reports, more audits, more registers, more performance indicators and more short-notice information requests. Some reporting is necessary; public money requires public accountability.

But when compliance becomes excessive, duplicated and disconnected from service delivery, it becomes a tax on performance. It consumes the time of the very people expected to deliver results. Successful organisations increasingly understand this. High-performing institutions do not remove accountability; they simplify it.

International examples such as Toyota, Haier and Buurtzorg show that organisations can improve performance by reducing unnecessary hierarchy, trusting frontline professionals and shifting decision-making closer to where the real work happens. This pattern extends beyond administrative overload. \

Across government, warning signs are often documented in reports, research studies and advisory structures long before a crisis emerges, yet decisive action frequently comes only after the crisis has erupted.

The xenophobic mobilisation that culminated in the 30 June 2026 march did not emerge overnight; South Africa has experienced repeated outbreaks of xenophobic violence since 2008, but many of the underlying causes remained inadequately addressed.

Similarly, the frustrations that eventually exploded into the #FeesMustFall protests were evident for years before they reached a national tipping point. Collecting information is not the same as acting on it.

The GBF report should force a national conversation about the administrative burden placed on schools and public institutions. Government should audit every recurring report and ask three simple questions: Who reads this? What decision does it inform? What difference has it made? South Africa does not need less accountability; it needs better accountability.

©Higher Education Media Services.

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Ubuntu As Our Constitutional Guiding Lens On All Things

One of the most divisive issues in a world gripped by fear and hate as inequality, poverty and hunger rises globally, is the issue of migration. Like most relatively developed, particularly industrialised countries, South Africa is currently gripped by anti-immigration protests, primarily targeting illegal immigration.

While there is no gainsaying the validity of the concern regarding sharing of scarce resources already maldistributed due to colonialism and apartheid racist distributive policies, some of the pronouncements by leading figures have inspired hatred of foreigners. This under the law, is xenophobia.

In S v Makwanyane, the Constitutional Court proclaimed Ubuntu as central to the foundational value system we committed ourselves to uphold as we build a new society. That new South Africa, the court clarified in cases such as Grootboom and Van Heerden, is one based on democratic values, social justice and fundamental human rights.

It is a society where every citizen’s quality of life is improved while every person’s potential is freed. The implicit transformative governance injunction and prioritisation of citizens must be noted.

Based on the above, everything we do as a country, including confronting the migration challenge, has to incorporate an ubuntu anchored social justice lens that centres the equal worth and human rights of all.

It must also factor the commitment to improve the quality of life of all citizens. Ubuntu often reduced to “I am because we are,” is broader than that. While ubuntu reminds us that our humanity is interconnected, it also, as Justice Langa outlined in Makwanyane, centralises the inviolable equal worth of every person.

Ubuntu’s approach to distribution of public goods is one of balancing the needs of each person with those in a direct relational position with such person and those of society, the environment and future generations. In Makwanyane, the Constitutional Court said Ubuntu incorporates considerations of social justice, equity and fairness.

Ubuntu also places a reciprocal duty on each person to respect others and pull their weight for common good. When a person offends, Ubuntu’s approach is one of restorative justice, which incorporates reparation, restoration and reintegration.

This policy brief seeks to contribute to the policy discourse and statecraft capabilities that can help South Africa transcend its current immigration pressures and growing hate.

An Ubuntu Perspective on Immigration Pressures

From an Ubuntu lens, the well-being of one community cannot be secured by diminishing another. Yet neither can the dignity and aspirations of long-established residents be sacrificed on the altar of unchecked inflows. South Africa’s post-1994 story is one of profound transition: from apartheid’s spatial and economic exclusions to a constitutional democracy that affirms human dignity for all. Such transition remains incomplete with apartheid disparities stark.

In this spirit, we must examine unplanned and undocumented immigration with honesty and without hate. We need an evidence based assessment of its measurable pressures on finite resources, economic opportunity, education, housing, water, and electricity, particularly where poor and working-class migrants concentrate in townships and border areas. To view immigration properly, let us set aside broader governance failures except where they directly enable illicit documentation or the non-implementation of existing immigration laws.

The goal is not scapegoating but a clear-eyed assessment of the social justice or fair distributive impact of rapid and unregulated immigration. Social justice, as envisaged by Luigi Taparelli on coining the concept in 1840-3, is essentially about the fair distribution of both the burdens and benefits of social existence and cooperation. This requires state craft that incorporates anticipatory social justice impact assessments of laws and policies. The Centre for Social Justice has designed a Social Justice Impact Assessment Matrix(SIAM) for such.

We must admit that the distribution of the benefits and burdens of rapid unregulated immigration is uneven. Statistics show that the majority of those who immigrate and end up in border villages, townships and informal settlements do so from a position of constrained choices mainly driven by social pathologies such as war, conflict and climate change.

In South Africa, rapid, largely unplanned inflows since 1994 have added real strain on space and resources, especially in historically black and apartheid deprived areas. According to Stats- SA, foreign-born nationals (excluding children born in South Africa) have doubled, while the distribution is uneven.

Acknowledging this is not xenophobia. Denying it while communities feel crowded out is disingenuous and ultimately corrosive to social cohesion.

Post-1994 Immigration Trends: Scale and Character

At the 1996 Census, foreign-born residents constituted approximately 2.1% of the population (roughly 958,000 people). By the 2022 Census, this had more than doubled to 2.4m accounting for 3.9% of the population.

This represents a substantial increase in absolute numbers within three decades and it comes with a substantially increased government service delivery bill. Most inflows originate from the Southern African Development Community (SADC), with significant numbers from Zimbabwe, Mozambique, and other neighbouring states. A large proportion are economic migrants — often poor, working-age, and entering via porous border routes. With regard to business opportunities, the majority that have displaced locals from informal trading spaces in townships villages are mostly Somalis and Pakistanis.

Official data includes both documented and undocumented in birthplace counts, but precise separation remains elusive primarily because undocumented people are not easily detectable. The distribution asymmetries are both provincial and along apartheid spatial disparities. Provincially Gauteng houses one in two (50%) of quantified immigrants, while Western Cape is a distant second, housing 16%. Concentrations are highest in metropolitan townships, informal settlements, and backyard dwellings, the spaces already carrying the heaviest legacy burdens from apartheid segregated spatial planning and dispossession.

Impacts on Scarce and Finite Resources and Socio-Economic Opportunities

1. Economic opportunities

National labour market data shows foreign-born individuals often exhibit higher employment absorption rates than the average in certain metrics, filling roles in construction, domestic work, agriculture, and informal retail. However, in townships and informal economies, the visible shift in spaza shop ownership (frequently foreign-dominated in sampled areas) and competition for day labour and micro-enterprises create direct displacement pressures on local economies that relatively thrived during apartheid.

Poor and undocumented migrants, by necessity, cluster in the lowest rungs of the informal economy. This is not conspiracy but arithmetic: when supply of low-skilled labour rises rapidly in spatially concentrated pockets while job creation lags, competition intensifies. The result is not abstract “national strain” but tangible frustration in communities where unemployment was already structurally high and businesses struggling as big business enters townships compounded by COVID-19 regulations.

2. Education opportunities

Nationally, foreign national learners constituted about 1.8% of public-school enrolment in 2025 (roughly 254,000 learners). This figure appears modest. Yet in high-inflow districts of Gauteng and the Western Cape, individual schools and circuits experience far higher local percentages, leading to heightened space competition, overcrowded classrooms, stretched teacher-pupil ratios, and pressure on already limited infrastructure. The constitutional right to basic education for all children collides with finite classroom space and budgets in specific locales.

3. Access to housing

Though South Africa’s housing backlog predates recent migration spikes, rooted in apartheid spatial engineering and corruption plus inefficiencies in post-1994 delivery, it has been exacerbated by rapid and unplanned inflows. Unplanned inflows accelerate demand in already stressed metros.

Immigrant households (both internal South African and international) show higher rates of residence in informal dwellings and backyard shacks. Townships and informal settlements absorb much of this pressure, intensifying competition for limited formal housing stock and upgrading programmes. Finite land and construction capacity mean rapid population additions in concentrated zones translate into longer queues and heightened density.

4. Water, electricity and health services

These are the most visibly finite resources. Informal settlements and backyard dwellings, frequently rely on shared or illegal connections. Rapid household formation in these areas outpaces infrastructure upgrades, contributing to load-shedding amplification, water shedding risks and sanitation strain. While national per-capita figures may dilute the effect, the lived reality in high-density townships and border towns is one of more people sharing the same taps, transformers, and sewage systems. Urban planning principles everywhere recognise that infrastructure must be sequenced with anticipated population growth, unplanned surges disrupt that sequencing.

In short, the doubling (in share and absolute terms) of mostly poor economic migrants since 1994 has not collapsed the national but it has added measurable, spatially concentrated demand on resources that were already under pressure. Townships and certain border areas bear a disproportionate share because that is where networks, jobs in the informal sector, and affordable (if inadequate) shelter cluster.

It is also common cause that public health services in boarder towns and townships experiencing an inflow of unregulated immigrants, limited hospital resources are stretched. While it is true that affluent immigrants use private health services, many cannot afford such.

Porous Borders, Undocumented Status, and Crime Linkages

Countries have both a sovereign right and a practical duty to regulate entry in line with capacity and security. As the Department of Home Affairs repeatedly said during consultations on its White Paper on Citizenship, Immigration and Refugee Protection, porous borders and implementation gaps in existing immigration and border laws have enabled not only economic migration but also transnational criminal flows. Drug trafficking and human trafficking routes exploit weak enforcement, the distributive burden of which tends to be disproportionate on women and children. In such cases documentation gaps and ability to retreat to country of origin compound law enforcement failures.

While the broader migrant population seek work rather than crime, the pattern is real enough that communities experiencing both service strain and visible organised crime linked to irregular flows feel doubly burdened. Social justice requires protecting citizens from such externalities while upholding due process for all.

Population Planning To Uphold Sovereignty Mindful of Finite Resources

The science and logic of population and urban planning is universal. Every sovereign state plans population inflows against anticipated resource growth. Urban planning worldwide uses demographic projections to size schools, clinics, housing, water reticulation, and electricity grids. South Africa’s own spatial development frameworks and integrated development plans attempt this logic yet unplanned and irregular inflows bypass those projections in key nodes.

This is not an argument against migration. It is recognition that unmanaged surges in poor, low-skilled inflows into already disadvantaged spatial pockets create zero-sum pressures on opportunity and services for the very communities that endured apartheid’s exclusions. Ubuntu demands we hold both truths: the humanity of those seeking better lives and the legitimate claim of existing residents, especially poor Black South Africans, to equitable access to the dividends of democracy.

An important consideration of population planning may be the regularisation of children and others born in South Africa before or around 1996 as reparative action for racial discrimination in immigration at the time and to ensure integration for proper resource and service planning.

Pathways For Just Migration: Regulating with Ubuntu-centric Social Justice and Democratising Opportunity

Good South Africans can and must push back against hate while addressing the legitimate economic yearning that fuels focus on unregulated migration. The answer lies in three interconnected pillars:

1. Regulate migration properly and enforce existing laws

Strengthen border management and documentation systems to reduce illicit entries and fake documentation. Prioritise legal, skills-aligned, and capacity-respecting pathways. Fast-track asylum adjudication while distinguishing genuine refugees from economic migrants. Enforce labour and business regulations evenly so that informal sector competition occurs on fair terms. This reduces the “undocumented perpetrator” problem without collective punishment.

2. Democratise the economy and spread opportunity

Address the root driver, economic desperation through pivoting economic policy to focus on horizontal economic growth to redress apartheid economic policies that decommissioned or constrained economic activities in historically black areas. Instead of black economic empowerment funding going into big business to absorb a few, distribute the funding to restore colonial and apartheid destroyed economic ecologies, particularly in rural areas, making sure each of the 44 districts and 4488 wards have an identifiable equitable share. This just transition is more just resonant than current distributive schemes. The new economic deal should target the communities currently bearing the heaviest pressure. Key actions include:

• Targeted support for township and rural small, medium and micro enterprises (SMMEs), including simplified licensing, access to finance, and skills programmes that enable local residents to compete effectively in the informal and formal sectors.

• Spatial economic interventions that bring productive opportunities closer to high-pressure townships and border towns rather than concentrating growth only in established metros.

• Accelerated skills development and vocational training aligned to real labour-market demand, with priority pathways for unemployed South African youth in affected communities.

• Land-use and housing reforms that expand affordable, well-located residential and economic space, reducing the density pressures that amplify competition for scarce resources, achieved through reviewing current regressive land disposal policies.

• Broader and decolonized economic inclusion measures, such as financial and procurement set-asides for local enterprises and support for worker cooperatives that grow the overall pie so that migration becomes a complement rather than a perceived threat to local livelihoods with needs based allocations and clear accountabilities for all 4488 wards.

• Consider naturalising children and others born in South Africa before or around 1996 to regularise the status of children born in South Africa to unregularized immigrants.

3. Protect communities from disproportionate burdens

• Conduct granular, locality-specific impact assessments rather than relying solely on national aggregates. Practical steps include:

• Ring-fencing dedicated resources and accelerated upgrading programmes (housing, water, electricity, schools, and clinics) for identified high-pressure townships, informal settlements, and border areas.

• Transparent, publicly available data dashboards at municipal and ward level that track migrant inflows, service utilisation, and local economic indicators so communities can see the picture clearly and participate in planning.

• Structured Gacaca styled community dialogues and integration initiatives, including civic education, language support, and joint economic projects that build mutual understanding while distinguishing ordinary migrants from criminal networks.

• Strengthened enforcement against transnational syndicates involved in drug trafficking, human trafficking, and organised crime, coupled with clear deportation protocols for convicted undocumented offenders to restore deterrence.

• Improve safeguards that ensure children’s right to education is upheld without undermining the capacity of schools in high-inflow districts.

• Subject all policy decisions and laws to an anticipatory social justice impact assessment.

Hate, related violence and blanket scapegoating of all foreigners betray Ubuntu. At the same time, refusing to name and manage the real pressures of unplanned, concentrated, largely low-skilled and undocumented inflows also betrays the interconnected well-being Ubuntu requires in addition to being socially unjust. The sober path is neither open borders nor closed hearts. It is sovereign, planned, humane regulation paired with democratising the economic pie so that no community is forced to compete for crumbs in overcrowded spaces.

Conclusion

South Africa’s strength has always lain in its capacity for honest reckoning and creative repair. Let us apply that same spirit here. By regulating migration in an Ubuntu anchored social justice manner rooted in the Constitution while simultaneously expanding economic and social opportunities to those that are left behind, we honour both the stranger at the gate and the neighbour whose patience has already been tested for generations.

As an ubuntu-centred nation committed to transition into a society based on social justice and human rights, hate is neither who we are nor constitutionally resonant. Neither is the denial of the reality of those who are shouldering the disproportionate burden of unregulated migration.

Saying no to hate and yes to empathy with affected communities cannot only mutually coexist but can also underpin a sober, ubuntu anchored socially just and sustainable approach to migration. At the core of future pathways, is always being mindful of distributive impacts.

Prof Thuli (Thulisile Madonsela) is Director: Centre for Social Justice(CSJ)| Law Faculty Trust Research Chair in social Justice, Stellenbosch University(SU).

©Higher Education Media Services.

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Twice in my lifetime, I witnessed South Africa become the centre of the world’s attention. In the final decade of the 20th century, we emerged as a nation determined to lead through moral example, committing ourselves to never again repeat the injustices of our past. Today, as calls for violence against foreigners grow louder, we risk becoming a global cautionary tale rather than an international inspiration.

On 11 February 1990, I sat glued to a television in my sister’s home in the township of Selosesha, Thaba Nchu. I had recently started Standard 8 (Grade 10) at Moroka High School and was spending the weekend away from the hostel. Along with millions around the world, I watched Nelson Mandela walk free from Victor Verster Prison.

Four years later, on 27 April 1994, I stood in a queue at Nonceba Primary School in my home village of Nonceba to cast my first democratic vote. South Africa opened its arms to all who lived in it, and in return, the world embraced us.

Today, more than three decades later, I write, deeply concerned by the growing threat of violence and disruption directed at immigrants. The consequences of such actions extend far beyond those immediately targeted. They threaten the very character of our nation.

Let us begin with an honest acknowledgement: there is no place for illegal immigration. South Africa, like every sovereign nation, has both the right and the responsibility to manage its borders and enforce its laws. We face significant developmental challenges and limited resources, and government has an obligation to prioritise the welfare and security of its citizens.

Yet recent events have presented South Africans with a false choice. We are told we must either condone xenophobia or ignore illegal immigration. We should reject both positions.

When governments fail to manage immigration effectively, migrants often become convenient scapegoats for broader social and economic frustrations. This is neither fair nor productive. Equally, unlawful entry into a country cannot be excused. But violence, intimidation and vigilantism are never the answer. They undermine the rule of law and erode the social fabric that binds us together.

I want to bring this conversation closer to home.

The word university derives from the Latin universitas, meaning “a community united as a whole”. At the NWU, we welcome lecturers, researchers and students from across Africa and beyond because we understand that knowledge does not recognise borders. Scientific breakthroughs emerge through collaboration. Innovation flourishes when people with different experiences and perspectives work together. We have as much to teach as we have to learn.

Our students become stronger graduates because they engage with people who think differently from themselves. A university that isolates itself from the wider world quickly becomes intellectually poorer.

Yet in the current climate, important distinctions are increasingly being blurred. In the public imagination, lawful migrants, refugees, international students, skilled professionals and undocumented immigrants are being grouped together. Once those distinctions disappear, prejudice takes root and reason gives way to fear. That is the dangerous point at which we now find ourselves.

As public universities, we have a responsibility to demonstrate that openness and order are not competing ideals but complementary ones.

Our institutions thrive because they combine openness to people and ideas with accountability, merit and respect for the rule of law. International students obtain the necessary visas. International academics are appointed through rigorous processes and are expected to meet the same standards and comply with the same regulations as everyone else. Openness succeeds precisely because it is supported by clear, fair and consistently applied rules.

Evidence also challenges many of the assumptions that dominate public debate.

A recent article in The Economist highlighted research showing that foreign-born residents account for only about 5% of South Africa’s population. Studies by the World Bank and the Organisation for Economic Co-operation and Development suggest that migrants often create jobs, establish businesses and stimulate economic activity. Other research indicates that foreign nationals are, on average, less likely to commit crime than South African citizens.

These findings may challenge widely held perceptions, but facts matter. A society cannot solve complex problems through misinformation, fear or anger.

The principle of universitas reminds us that humanity advances not by turning away from one another, but by learning from one another. At the same time, strong communities endure because they respect shared rules and institutions. South Africa does not have to choose between openness and order. We need both.

We must reject xenophobia without qualification. We must enforce immigration laws without apology. And we must continue building institutions that welcome talent, ideas and innovation from every corner of the world while remaining firmly grounded in the rule of law.

The colours of our Rainbow Nation appear dimmer than they once did. The dreams of our founders are being deferred. The sacrifices made in pursuit of freedom risk being forgotten, while the values that underpinned our democratic transition are too often neglected or distorted.

More than 11,750 days after I cast my first democratic vote, the ideals that defined our national rebirth — reconciliation over revenge, hope over hatred and unity over division — remain ours to protect.

Let us seize this moment to reaffirm those values. Let us paint a new canvas, brighter and more inclusive than the one before, so that the world may once again see that South Africa is more than a place on a map. It is an idea worth defending and an example worth aspiring to.

Prof. Bismark Tyobeka, Principal and Vice-Chancellor of the North-West University (NWU).

©Higher Education Media Service.

Youth development begins in early childhood

Youth development is often discussed through the lens of staggering unemployment rates, skills shortages, job creation and entrepreneurial opportunities, all of which are valid interventions for creating active economic participants. However, one critical opportunity is often overlooked, even though it forms the foundation on which everything else is built: early childhood development (ECD).

By the time young adults complete their education and enter the job market, much of their confidence, curiosity and problem-solving ability has already been shaped during their early years of learning. This is a critical period for nurturing and developing young minds into capable individuals who are prepared to tackle future economic challenges.

The reality is that, for South Africa to address its youth development challenges, it must honestly assess whether enough is being done in early childhood development to ensure youth unemployment does not become an entrenched labour market problem.

Research shows that by the age of five, a child’s brain reaches nearly 90% of its adult size. This period lays the foundation for physical health, emotional intelligence, cognitive development and social behaviour. Expecting young adults to suddenly develop dynamic problem-solving skills later in life, when these capabilities were neglected during their formative years, is unrealistic – and in many ways sets them up for failure.

South African youth are undeniably resilient. However, their resilience is often reactive, born from hardship and adversity. By removing early barriers, such as inadequate learning infrastructure, children are given the mental space to develop proactive resilience, enabling them to dream, innovate and lead.

The mindset shift

The phrase “be the change you want to see” is particularly relevant when empowering young minds. A mindset shift is needed to encourage young people to become proactive doers rather than passive observers who wait for solutions.

To foster this change, education must evolve from a system of instruction to a system of inquiry. Children should be encouraged to ask “why” and “what if”, while being given safe opportunities to test their ideas. In doing so, independence becomes a practised skill rather than an abstract concept.

Early childhood experiences shape far more than school readiness. They influence whether children believe they can occupy positions of leadership and make meaningful contributions to society. When a child grows up in conditions of severe scarcity, their priorities naturally centre on survival—finding their next meal, staying safe, navigating instability and managing stress. Under these circumstances, dreaming about the future can feel like a luxury.

South African youth are often praised for their resilience, and rightly so. Yet too much of this resilience is reactive, shaped by environmental pressures rather than by freedom, confidence and opportunity.

True youth development should provide young people with the mental space to build proactive resilience—the ability to experiment, lead, create and contribute. Achieving this requires a fundamental shift in how learning is understood and delivered. Children should be empowered to apply their natural curiosity and intuition to solve problems rather than waiting for instructions, answers or interventions from adults and institutions.

Education, therefore, must move from a system of instruction to a system of inquiry – a proven recipe for developing solution-seekers, innovators and future leaders.

The influence of early learning environments

Physical learning environments carry meaning far beyond their practical function. They often serve as indicators of self-worth.

When a child learns in an environment that lacks dignity—without something as basic as a desk or chair—they may internalise the belief that their education and ideas do not matter. Providing a child with a dedicated, dignified space to learn becomes about far more than furniture; it becomes about possibility.

Take a child without a desk, for example. MiDesk Global monitoring and evaluation data indicates that learners spend between 31% and 60% of their school time writing. Attempting to focus while sitting on a cold floor, balancing a workbook on their knees because they have nothing stable to write on, creates physical discomfort and distracts from learning. By contrast, access to a desk allows a child’s attention to shift towards learning, creativity and problem-solving, helping them immediately see themselves as capable and empowered.

Studies further show that simply having a desk can improve learner performance by up to 20%. MiDesk Global monitoring and evaluation data mirrors these findings:

• 100% of schools reported improved learner focus.

• 90% reported improved attendance and stronger mathematics performance.

• 70% reported significant improvements in handwriting.

As simple as a desk may seem, its impact is profound. A child who is provided with a stable and respectful learning environment is more likely to view themselves as someone whose thoughts and ideas are worth developing.

This shift may appear small, but its consequences are significant. It communicates to a child that they are worthy, capable and deserving of opportunity. In a country where many children face multiple socio-economic challenges, these signals of dignity are not decorative—they are developmental.

Stakeholder intervention

Developing solution-seekers requires a collaborative approach involving multiple stakeholders. Investments that build confidence, agency and critical-thinking skills offer an alternative and more sustainable approach to youth development.

South Africa’s youth unemployment challenge is often framed as a shortage of jobs—and rightly so. However, insufficient investment in early childhood opportunities should not be overlooked, as these experiences provide the foundation on which critical skills are built. Funding early cognitive development and critical thinking is, in many ways, preventative economic policy. It creates a pipeline of capable and resourceful individuals who not only seek employment but can also develop and implement sustainable solutions within their communities.

Government: Funding models should reward proven early childhood development outcomes and measurable cognitive progress, rather than focusing solely on physical infrastructure and programme expansion.

Business: Early childhood development should not be treated as a peripheral corporate social investment initiative. Instead, it should be recognised as a strategic talent pipeline, deserving of long-term investment in sustainable and locally relevant solutions.

Educators: Teaching practices should evolve to create more opportunities for discovery, inquiry and critical thinking, prioritising collaborative problem-solving over rote memorisation.

Parents and communities: Agency begins at home. Families and communities are often children’s first source of validation, where curiosity is encouraged and lessons about responsibility, decision-making and consequences are first learned.

Conclusion

South Africa’s youth development conundrum requires a fundamental shift in mindset. By investing meaningfully in early childhood development, the country can build confidence, agency and critical-thinking skills from the earliest years. In doing so, it can produce capable young people who are equipped to become part of the solution rather than waiting for the change they need.

Early childhood development is not simply a social investment—it is an economic imperative.

Talita Boodhram, Chief Impact Officer at MiDesk Global

©Higher Education Media Service.

“Grace and peace be upon you, brethren.” This is how the apostle Paul would salute the church. Today, I want to base this narrative on one fundamental truth: Love.

When the world cannot seem to solve its crises, we must turn to God and enquire what He says about the situation. In Romans 13:9, Paul writes:

“The commandments are all summed up in one command: love thy neighbour as you love yourself.”

If this is our standard, we must examine the current tensions in South Africa through the lens of love.

When European settlers landed at the Cape, the Khoikhoi and Xhosa natives initially received them with curiosity and hospitality. However, hospitality was soon met with an insatiable appetite. The settlers demanded cattle, then land, then labour. A people who opened their doors found themselves dispossessed in the land of their fathers.

I raise this not to reopen old wounds, but because the same spirit—arriving as a guest but behaving as a conqueror—is at the heart of the tension we wrestle with today.

The xenophobia debate does not begin at the shores of the South African border; it begins in the looted treasures of the continent. If we look honestly at the living conditions in nations like Zimbabwe, Nigeria, and Somalia, we must ask: Do their leaders truly love them?

When the word “xenophobia” is spoken, South Africa is often singled out as though Mzansi alone owns this sin. But history tells a much broader, pan-African story:

• In Kenya: Somali nationals have previously been rounded up into refugee camps before deportation amidst intense political gridlock.

• In Nigeria (1983): Reeling from an economic crash after the oil boom, Nigeria expelled an estimated two million undocumented migrants (mostly from Ghana, Chad, and Cameroon) under the banner of national security and economic stability.

Xenophobia and the fear of the foreigner is a continental wound, not a uniquely South African trait.

The culture of creating scapegoats is a pandemic one on the continent. We have been made to think that recent migration issues are exclusively South African. It seems African leaders and the African Union (AU) have forgotten history; in true Animal Farm style, they act shocked. Just as Adam blamed Eve and Eve blamed the snake, today, scapegoating by our leaders is as easy as saying, “South Africans are xenophobic.”

When our continental brothers and sisters first arrived at South African borders, the locals showed them love in a thousand quiet ways:

• Locals rented them backyard rooms at discounted rates.

• They bought the brooms and curtains sold door-to-door.

• They supported foreign-owned shops and rented out garages so a stranger could open a spaza shop to feed his family.

• They provided employment and entrusted them with work.

This was the generous hospitality locals displayed toward their counterparts. But what happens when the person you let inside your house begins to mistreat your children and steal your belongings?

What happens when our brothers sell rotten food to South Africans, or when locals are bullied out of their own economy? What happens when there is suddenly no space for social housing or medical attention at local clinics? Locals pay for electricity but must sit for hours in the dark because an illegal connection caused a power failure, and streets are dark because copper has been stolen. Worst of all, what happens when a community wakes up to the tragic news that the young girl from next door, who has been missing for weeks, has been found dead in a downtown Johannesburg brothel?

I am raising this because South Africans are often labeled as a people without love. But love is a two-way street. In Romans 13:10, we are reminded that “love does no harm to a neighbour.” Therefore, true love from our African brothers and sisters entering South Africa must manifest as lawfulness and respect.

If we are operating in love, the following boundaries must be honoured:

• Respect for Sovereignty: Love does not enter a country illegally under the cover of night, mislead authorities, or bribe officials to look the other way.

• Economic Fairness: Love does not push into economic sectors reserved by law for locals, nor does it collude to lock citizens out of their own markets. It refuses to manufacture counterfeit, unregulated, or dangerous goods simply to chase a profit at the expense of consumer safety.

• Rejection of Criminality: Above all, love never looks away from darkness. It does not condone drug smuggling, the vandalism of infrastructure (like railway and copper cables), human trafficking, or fraud.

A guest who loves his host guards the host’s house as if it were his own. Criminality must be condemned universally—whether in South Africa, Nigeria, Kenya, Uganda, Libya, or Egypt.

Where, then, is the church? Too often, the body of Christ is caught straddling the fence. The prophet Elijah warned us against hesitating between two opinions, and Jesus warned against being lukewarm. We cannot remain comfortable while our neighbours suffer.

As Christians, we must fight this on our knees:

“For we do not wrestle against flesh and blood, but against rulers and principalities...” (Ephesians 6:12)

The forces driving brother against brother are spiritual before they are political. Our primary weapons must be prayer and truth: praying for just leaders, advocating for lawful migration, and standing as a church bold enough to speak the whole truth in love.

We dare not let the history of the early settlers wear new clothes today. The demand of “give me your trade, your space, your country, and ask me nothing in return” is the root of the bitterness boiling over.

The cure is not the bush knife or the burning tyre. The cure is love made practical:

• Leaders who love their people enough to provide dignity at home.

• Migrants who love their hosts enough to honour their laws.

• Locals who maintain the heart to love the stranger as they once did.

• A Church bold enough to tell everyone the truth.

When we couple love with basic fairness toward native citizens—whose initial welcome must be answered with respect—this deep continental wound will heal.

Love conquered death at the cross; it can surely conquer the fear that sets neighbour against neighbour. Let us, the church, lead the way on our knees and with our lives.

Ayavuya Madolo is a prominent South African business leader, an advocate for economic development and a “Child of God”.

©Higher Education Media Services.

The launch conversation centred on the search for truth, the profession’s integrity deficit, the claims of conscience, and legal ethics as a vital safeguard of democracy – themes that frame Legal Ethics in South Africa, a book examining the role of ethics in the legal profession.

Co-hosted by the Wits School of Law and Rhodes University on 18 June, the event brought together members of the judiciary, legal practitioners, academics and students to reflect on the place of ethics, accountability and professional responsibility in a changing legal landscape.

The discussion provided a timely reminder that the strength of South Africa’s constitutional democracy depends not only on laws and institutions but also on the integrity of those entrusted to uphold them.

Prof. Garth Stevens, Deputy Vice-Chancellor: People Development and Culture of Wits University, welcomed guests and set the tone for the evening: “We gather tonight in a relatively young constitutional democracy that has achieved much, yet continues to require our constant vigilance, care and protection.

“The survival of our constitutional order cannot be secured by laws, institutions or even our Constitution alone. Its strength depends on people: those who govern, and equally those who question, scrutinise and demand accountability from those entrusted with power.”

He added: “Democracy flourishes precisely when citizens participate actively, when institutions remain robust, and when society values truth, transparency and ethical leadership. It requires a collective commitment to accountability that rests with academics, journalists, public servants and oversight bodies, including those who have spent their careers ensuring that government remains accountable to the people that it serves.”

The publication of Legal Ethics in South Africa, edited by Professor Helen Kruuse of Rhodes University, is the first major South African textbook dedicated solely to legal ethics in over 40 years. The book examines ethical questions facing lawyers, judges, academics and legal professionals working both inside and outside private practice.

“Lawyers operate within a social contract,” said Kruuse. “We are granted significant privileges, including a monopoly over legal services, and in return, society is entitled to expect integrity of the highest order... We are problem solvers operating in difficult spaces. But when we enable injustice rather than resist it, we place ourselves on the wrong side of history.” Read the full address on the Wits University website.

©Higher Education Media Services.

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Speaking at the 2026 annual Dr Sam Nzima Memorial lecture on 16 June 2026, Vice-Chancellor and Principal, Prof Tinyiko Maluleke, reemphasised the University’s commitment to producing graduates who are ready to create jobs rather than looking for employment.

With just six months into the implementation of the Tshwane University of Technology’s (TUT) new Institutional Strategic Plan 2026-2035 centred on entrepreneurship, Prof Maluleke’s remarks are as timely as they are on point.

As Youth Month draws to a close, entrepreneurship, Prof Maluleke said, is the most effective response to the unemployment crisis among youth in South Africa and across the continent.

He added that, for TUT, entrepreneurship is the confluence of theory and praxis, where science embraces application and knowledge-making combines with policymaking.

“Entrepreneurship is that place where all academic subjects get together to dance the dance of life beyond the classroom. At TUT, entrepreneur is neither a noun nor an adjective; it is a verb and a way of being – we entrepreneur the future together. While others may regard entrepreneurship as an optional extra and a nice-to-have, for us, entrepreneurship is the crosscutting graduate attribute of the 21^st century,” said Prof Maluleke.

He said that while other institutions speak only of employability and producing graduates with the skills which the job market needs, TUT suggests that neither academia nor industry has what it takes to respond to the fast-changing 21st-century job market.

“The job market no longer knows what jobs it needs now, less so what jobs it will need in the next five to 10 years. That is why at TUT, we are seized with the notion of the future of work – a future we are not prepared merely to sit and wait for. We are partnering with industry at a pace and scale our peers have never seen before,” he said, adding that TUT not only equips students with fourth industrial revolution (4IR) skills, but it also teaches and trains AI.

“We are teaching AI the good values of resilience, excellence, diversity, accountability and stewardship; before others teach AI to lie, to cheat and to steal,” said Prof Maluleke. “It stands to reason, therefore, that at TUT are not mere adopters of AI, trained by others for ends that may not be aligned with our values and our mandate. TUT is in the AI backroom where algorithms are made; TUT is deep inside the AI factory, entrepreneurially shaping the digital future of the country and continent.

Prof Maluleke noted that the days are gone when professors determined and crafted curricula behind industry’s back, adding that the time has passed when industry waited for universities to single-handedly produce the perfect worker-graduate three to four years later.

“At TUT, we are bringing industry into the classroom, from first year to first job. That is how and why we are producing graduates who are ready to be unleashed as entrepreneurs, regardless of their academic discipline, graduates of impeccable ethical conduct,” he said.

©Higher Education Media Services.

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An African Proverb: “  the hunt will always glorify the hunter.”

The June 16, 1976 Uprising remains one of the most defining moments in South African history. Hundreds of unarmed schoolchildren were confronted and killed by armed forces in one of the most brutal  state sanctioned violence incident, one of the worst crimes of the twentieth century . A day that transformed the political landscape of South Africa, altered the trajectory of liberation movements. It exposed apartheid's cruelty to the world.

Yet fifty years later,  uncomfortable questions confronts us. 

Have we begun to remember June 16 through mythology rather than historical fact?

History should never only be  about what happened, it is about what future generations believe happened. When facts become blurred, when assumptions are repeated often enough to become accepted truths, and when political convenience overtakes historical accuracy, we risk building fictitious monuments rather than memory.

One of the most persistent narratives surrounding June 16 is the assertion that students marched from various schools with the intention of converging at Orlando Stadium to hand over a Memorandum. This narrative has become so widespread that many South Africans and the world accept this as an  unquestionable fact. Yet serious historical scrutiny demands difficult QUESTIONS. Where is the documentary evidence? Where are the meeting minutes where this action was resolved? Who were the students going to hand over the Memorandum to? Who booked Orlando Stadium? Who paid for its use? Which organisation received permission for this March to happen? Which committee coordinated logistics? Where are the records confirming this destination?

If none exist, why has this version become dominant? These are not questions of political convenience. They are questions of historical integrity. We understand a profound truth that. 

“When the roots of a tree begin to decay, it spreads death to the branches.”

If the foundation of our national memory is weakened by untested assumptions, future generations will inherit confusion rather than truth.

THE  CONTEXT  OF  JUNE  16

To understand what happened on June 16, we must first understand what the students were responding to. The apartheid government had imposed Afrikaans as a compulsory medium of instruction in key subjects.

For Black students, Afrikaans was not just another language. It was widely viewed as the language of oppression, police brutality, forced removals, pass laws and state sanctioned violence. 

Student organisations such as the South African Students Movement (SASM) had been mobilising opposition to the policy. The Soweto Students Representative Council (SSRC) emerged as a critical coordinating structure.

The intention was to organise a peaceful protest and to show solidarity with students who were supposed to be at school writing Afrikaans exams on the 16th of June 1976. What is not disputed is that thousands of students from numerous schools mobilised on the morning of June 16.

What remains contested is what exactly the final destination was supposed to be.

THE  ORLANDO  STADIUM  NARRATIVE 

Over time a dominant narrative emerged. Students were supposedly marching to Orlando Stadium where a mass rally would be held. This version has been repeated in speeches, documentaries, commemorative programmes and public discourse. Repetition does not transform a claim into historical fact. Historical claims require evidence.

A stadium rally involving thousands of students would require prior arrangements. Access approval, security planning. coordination structures, communication channels and financial arrangements.

Even under normal circumstances such an event would demand organisation.

Under apartheid conditions it would have required even more planning. The critical question remains, 

WHERE  IS  THE  EVIDENCE? 

If Orlando Stadium was indeed the intended destination, records should exist somewhere.

Yet researchers, veterans and historians continue to debate the issue. The absence of evidence raises legitimate concerns.  Students did not  lack organisation, therefore historical accuracy is important .

WHAT  WAS THE ACTUAL INTERPRETATION OF THE  STUDENTS ?

Many veterans have consistently argued that the primary objective was not a stadium event. Speaking to Titi Mthenjane who was in the frontline of the student formations, has always categorically states that the objective was a coordinated solidarity demonstration against Afrikaans as a medium of instruction. “We did not even tell our parents that we were going to march,  that day I left my home as a child and after witnessing what I did, I returned home as an adult” recalls Titi Mthenjane, Chairman of the June 16, 1976 Foundation. 

A 18 year old Titi Mthenjane washing the vehicle was used during 1976 

The emphasis was on collective visibility. The power of student solidarity.The symbolism of mass resistance. The rejection of apartheid education.

Accounts vary regarding routes, assembly points and intended gathering locations. Such variation is entirely normal in mass political actions involving thousands of participants. What is less normal is the later emergence of a single, definitive destination that appears inadequately supported by contemporaneous evidence by people who were not even part of the student leadership, and didn't even attend the meeting on June 13, 1976. There are living survivors and student leaders of that time who were there in the vortex of the Youth Uprising yet   our  media selectively give platforms to a sole voice who continue distorting the facts of the such a ground breaking event that influenced the collapse of the Broederbond.  

We need to be cautious that  the history of the June 16, 1976 Youth uprising  does not  become vulnerable and disputed  when later interpretations become treated as original intentions. 

We must pursue the truth while the living archives of June 1976 are still with us, those whose memories remain clear, whose testimonies remain unfiltered, and whose experiences remain invaluable. The history of the uprising cannot be reduced to a single voice or a singular narrative. What began in Soweto, the epicentre of youth resistance, reverberated across township schools, colleges, universities throughout the then four provinces including the former homelands, becoming a national revolt.

The historical record demands correction and expansion. Thousands of schoolchildren whose lives was irrevocably altered, they were maimed, detained, tortured, imprisoned, banned, exiled, and killed. Families were torn apart. Parents spent years searching for answers, some died without knowing whether their children were alive or dead.

This is the unfinished truth of 1976, a collective sacrifice that extends far beyond Soweto, the iconic images and familiar names. 

To honour that generation fully, we must preserve the plurality of its voices and confront the depth of its human cost.

THE  DANGER  OF HISTORICAL CONVENIENCE 

Africa has always understood the importance of truthful storytelling. Our elders have taught us that, “A lie may travel with the wind, but truth walks with the ancestors.”

Individuals, including organizations will create simplified narratives so they get funded by those who are comfortable with the distortions and untruths. Complex events become compressed into digestible stories, nuance disappears, contradictions are removed and questions become inconvenient. Yet the June 16 Youth Uprising deserves better.

It deserves honesty and most importantly, it deserves evidence.

When we simplify history, we risk reducing the agency of those who lived it. The young students of 1976 cannot be treated as  symbols. They are human beings, these students  debated, they  probably disagreed while   strategising  They made decisions under extraordinary circumstances. .

THE  COMMERCIALISATION  OF MEMORY 

An even more troubling question emerges. Why are events funded around the notion of "finishing the march? The phrase  might sound inspiring, it even creates emotional resonance or perhaps even  symbolic continuity. 

Now, if the original march was never intended to end at Orlando Stadium, what exactly is being finished? I understand that a commemorative event can be reimagined. Perhaps also create educational opportunities, however historical symbolism must rest upon historical truth. Otherwise we risk creating the possibility of not being able  to distinguish between commemoration and reconstruction. By commemorating we  remember history, and by reconstructing events in history aren't we rewriting it? 

Let's remember the youth who died in the uprising, many never saw democracy and  many never witnessed the freedom their sacrifices helped create.

The moral responsibility placed upon us  is therefore immense. Know that every historical distortion affects  memory. Every unverified claim alters how future generations understand the  sacrifice of the Class of 76. Every convenient myth risks replacing lived experiences.

The dead cannot correct us, the responsibility falls upon us, the living, as another African proverb reminds us that, “The dead are not gone; they speak through the truth we preserve.”

WHY  HISTORICAL  ACCURACY   MATTERS 

Some may ask,  Does it really matter?

The answer is unequivocally Yes! 

Historical accuracy is not an academic LUXURY. It is a democratic NECESSITY. When societies become comfortable with historical ambiguity, the consequences extend beyond history. The same habits begin influencing POLITICS, Public POLICY, National IDENTITY, . Collective MEMORY . and EVENTUALLY  facts become NEGOTIABLE. TRUTH  becomes PARTISAN . EVIDENCE  becomes OPTIONAL . Now,  isn't that dangerous for our constitutional democracy? 

THE NEED  FOR  ORAL  TESTIMONY 

The generation of 1976 is aging.

Every year invaluable memories are lost. Every funeral represents the disappearance of an irreplaceable archive. This is why oral testimony remains critical.

Those who organised. Those who mobilised. Those who marched.

Those who survived. Their voices matter. Memory does form part of the historical record.

The task is not to replace documents with oral history.

The task is to place them in conversation. Only then can a fuller picture emerge.

A NATIONAL  INTERGENERATIONAL CONVERSATION  IS   LONG  OVERDUE 

The fiftieth anniversary of the youth uprising can't  be about celebration only. It should be about investigation. It should be about documenting and archiving evidence. It should be about restoring historical precision.

This is not an attack on anyone nor is it an attempt to diminish the significance of June 16. On the contrary. It is because June 16 matters so profoundly that every detail deserves scrutiny. The students of 1976 challenged an entire state because they believed that their voices  mattered. They refused to accept official narratives imposed from a racist regime.

The greatest tribute we can offer them is to uphold that same principle, not a convenient history. Neither a  commercially attractive history, but truthful history.

IN DEFENSE  OF  THE  TRUTH 

June 16, 1976 was the day schoolchildren shook the very foundation of   an apartheid state. It was the day young people altered the course of South African history. A day the world witnessed the moral bankruptcy of racial oppressive state. Nothing can diminish that achievement.   History demands vigilance. If the claim that students intended to march to Orlando Stadium is true, let evidence be presented. If it is not true, let the record be corrected.

For nations are not weakened by  the refusal to seek TRUTH. The generation of 1976 deserves  a country brave enough to correct history . For as the elders say, 

“When the drumbeat changes, the dancer must ask who changed the rhythm.”

Half a century after the Youth Uprising that shook the world, South Africa faces a CHOICE. Do we inherit HISTORY or do we pursue the Truth, because the future memory of June 16 will not be determined by what happened in 1976. It will be determined by whether we have the courage, in 2026 and beyond, to tell the story as it truly was.

Prof Nicola Smit

Buried in a policy circular distributed recently to universities is an admission that South Africa’s student funding model may no longer be financially sustainable in its current form.

Now placed under administration for the third time since 2018, the National Student Financial Aid Scheme (NSFAS) does not need another temporary administrator.

It needs a complete overhaul.

The reason lies not only in its governance failures or operational shortcomings, but in a policy shift that raises fundamental questions about the sustainability of the current funding model.

The latest Policy Standard document outlining NSFAS criteria and conditions for financial aid, signed by Minister of Higher Education and Training Buti Manamela and only finalised and distributed in May, introduces a new principle: funding is “subject to available budget”.

The amendments apply to all NSFAS-funded students, irrespective of whether they are returning, continuing or first-time-entering students.

Students who continue to meet the academic and financial criteria stipulated in this policy are therefore not assured of funding to complete their studies, as continued funding is explicitly made subject to the availability of funds.

While explicitly outlining the conditions for financial aid provides some protection for NSFAS should it experience funding shortfalls - as history has shown it has repeatedly - it offers little comfort to the qualifying students unable to study with the peace of mind that as long as they continue to do their part they will be supported to complete their studies.

The vision behind expanded student funding was both necessary and morally compelling. NSFAS is supposed to be, as Manamela recently noted, “one of the most important public institutions in our democratic project”.

Yet the latest policy document raises fundamental questions about the long-term sustainability of the current funding model.

Systemic weaknesses

The rapid transition from a loan-based model to a fully funded bursary scheme may have been politically expedient, but it was never matched by the policy certainty, administrative capability, or long-term financial planning and commitment required to sustain it.

Several aspects of the scheme have failed to evolve alongside South Africa’s economic realities. For instance, capping the household income threshold for bursary funding at R350,000 despite inflationary pressures increasingly undermines the credibility and fairness of the entire model.

For universities, these systemic weaknesses translate into mounting financial exposure.

At Stellenbosch University (SU), operational income declined from a R304 million surplus in 2015 to a deficit of R39 million in 2024, driven largely by outstanding NSFAS-related debt.

By the end of December 2025, SU’s gross outstanding student debt stood at an alarming R1.12 billion - a 60% increase from 2024 and directly linked to the cumulative outstanding payments from NSFAS to SU.

Even excluding NSFAS, there was a 23% increase in outstanding student fees from 2024 to 2025 highlighting that outstanding student debt constitutes a significant financial risk for universities.

These pressures are not unique to SU. Across the sector, institutions are increasingly absorbing the financial and administrative consequences of NSFAS instability worsened by a student finance model that appears increasingly unsustainable.

Administrative delays

Administrative delays worsen the crisis. As of March 2026, SU had received only 17% of the funds claimed from NSFAS (excluding student allowances) for the current academic year. This follows the low payment rate for 2025, where NSFAS has yet to pay out R296 million outstanding to SU.

While the scheme attributes these delays to cash-flow management and prioritising direct student allowances, the practical consequence is that universities are forced to advance funding before they are reimbursed.

The increase in NSFAS-related debt has become a primary driver of

SU’s cash flow challenges and delays in payments have significantly reduced operational liquidity. This financial strain is compounded by historically slow and dysfunctional appeals and migration processes, where portal failures and closed windows prevent rejected students from resolving their status. Universities continue to fund them during ongoing appeals, absorbing immense financial risk.

Another addition is the prohibition on ‘top-ups’, which will result in shortfalls this year. As an example, institutions usually updated registration data when a student’s cost of study changed, such as moving from home or private accommodation to university residence or vice versa.

Historically, these changes required updates to funding allocations to accurately reflect the student’s actual cost of study, but this will now no longer be possible. Introducing this limitation four months into the academic year is problematic.

The delay in publishing the 2026 Policy Standard impacts both institutions and students (the same applies for designating an area as metropolitan or not for determining the applicable accommodation allowance rate).

Human cost

While these balance-sheet numbers are staggering, the human cost is even more concerning. Students who complete their degrees burdened by debt often find their academic certificates withheld, placing their employability at risk.

With South Africa’s youth unemployment rate sitting at 45.8%, and graduate unemployment rising sharply, according to Statistics South Africa, withholding degrees turns what should be an economic launchpad into a reinforcing cycle of poverty and exclusion.

Although by the end of 2025, 1,429 SU graduates have had their certificates withheld because of unpaid debt, the University provided academic records and proof of qualifications to prospective employers to help indebted graduates secure employment.

In addition, SU has implemented initiatives such as the Student Debt Working Group and a partnership with Standard Bank, where the university signs surety on loans to ensure final-year students are not financially blocked from registration or from graduating.

We remain one of the few institutions aggressively trying to recover outstanding funds owed by NSFAS from the Closeout Project (2017–2022), designed to reconcile historic student-level transactions. Through our Development and Alumni Relations Division, we also continue to mobilise donor funding and alternative financial pathways to assist students.

While NSFAS struggles to stabilise itself, a parallel crisis has intensified for the ‘missing middle’ whose household incomes exceed the R350 000 threshold, but who are unable to cover the full cost of higher education. Currently, roughly half of SU’s ballooning student debt can be linked directly to NSFAS delays, while the remainder is owed by self-funded students struggling to meet their financial obligations.

Silver lining

If there is any silver lining to NSFAS being placed under administration yet again, it is that it forces decision-makers back to the negotiation table.

NSFAS allocates funds for loans and bursaries to eligible students. The criteria and conditions for the granting of these are determined in consultation with the Minister of Higher Education and Training.

NSFAS cannot resolve this issue independently, even if it could do so. The political stakeholders responsible for funding policy and the business and organisational model of sustainable and inclusive student financing in South Africa must be involved.

This is the ideal moment for diverse political voices in the Government of National Unity to collectively acknowledge the urgency of practical, sustainable reform if we hope to widen and sustain access to higher education.

We must openly deliberate alternative governance and financial frameworks, including income-contingent loans and direct institutional funding limiting the involvement of intermediaries.

In the portfolio committee briefing on Friday 29 May, Manamela described NSFAS as institutionally fragile due to fragmented manual processes, high vacancy rates, poor systems integration and other governance failures. The administrator now has three months to submit an initial stabilisation plan.

As parliamentary portfolio committee chairperson Tebogo Letsie later noted in a media statement calling for the improved reconciliation of records between NSFAS and universities, student debt - now at R59 billion - continues to rise.

No university will survive for five years if NSFAS collapses, Letsie cautioned.

A funding system in which qualifying students cannot be guaranteed support beyond a single academic year is not merely administratively broken; it signals a funding model in urgent need of redesign.

There is no time to waste.

If we cannot secure the future of higher education funding, we undermine not only our universities’ sustainability, but the country’s broader economic and social future.

• Prof Nicola Smit is acting Chief Operating Officer, Acting Chief Financial Officer, and Dean and Professor of Law of the Faculty of Law at Stellenbosch University and this opinion piece was first published in Sunday World.

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South Africa’s education and labour landscape is at a crossroads. The collapse of the National Student Financial Aid Scheme, with billions unaccounted for, has left countless aspiring doctors, lawyers, engineers, and actuaries abandoned.

Businesses, meanwhile, are frustrated by dwindling SETA allocations, and President Cyril Ramaphosa is quoted in March 2026 saying that SETAs are ‘no longer fit for purpose.’

We also know the well-publicised Progress in International Reading Literacy Study of 2021, which found that found 81% of Grade 4 learners cannot read with comprehension. We need to acknowledge that the scale of the crisis facing young people is undeniable.

The statistics from a recent Statistics South Africa study are stark: 4.7 million young people are unemployed, 10.6 million are outside the labour force, and an unemployment rate of 60.9% among those aged 15 to 24. These are not just numbers. They represent the silent weight carried by families, the unspoken worry of parents, and the restless energy of young South Africans who long to contribute but cannot find a way in. Fifty years after Hector Pieterson’s sacrifice, we must ask: Is this the South Africa he died for?

Yet hope is not lost.

Ordinary South Africans are not waiting for the future of education and work to arrive; they are building it. In November last year, South Africa hosted the G20 Social Summit, chaired by Minister of International Relations and Cooperation Ronald Lamola and former Deputy President Dr Phumzile Mlambo‑Ngcuka.

At this summit, the Africa Legacy Project on Expanding Access to Higher Education was launched in partnership with the Department of Higher Education and Training, the Graduate Institute of Financial Sciences (GIFS), the University of Johannesburg, and employers across sectors from telecoms to healthcare.

Together, we began reimagining curricula to align with the demands of tomorrow’s industries, placing Africa’s youth at the centre of global conversations.

The Africa Legacy Project transformed South Africa into a laboratory of innovation. Fueled by urgency and imagination, leaders worked to produce job creators and entrepreneurs. Out of this process emerged a flagship initiative: The Global Goals 2030: Africa Scholarship. Since its inception last year, this scholarship has supported MBAs, doctoral programmes, BSc qualifications, diplomas and certificates at leading local and international institutions. It created fast‑tracked pathways from no formal education to master’s and doctoral degrees, proving that opportunity is no longer bound by geography but only by imagination and access.

Crucially, the scholarship partners with employers to upskill existing staff, ensuring resilience against technological disruption. It also targets unemployed youth excluded from universities and TVET colleges, creating pathways for them to gain employment while studying. Employers benefit through improved scorecards and a future‑ready workforce. This is what happens when leaders rise to the occasion: transformation becomes tangible.

The G20 Social Summit reminded the world that Africa is not a continent of problems but of solutions. Our demographic dividend is not a burden but a blessing. Our young people are not waiting for handouts; they are demanding platforms to innovate, lead and contribute. The message is clear: Africa’s talent dividend is a global asset.

But this requires leadership. Leaders in business, government, and civil society must rise boldly.

Our task is not simply to create jobs.

Our mandate is to restore dignity, ignite hope, and remind our youth that they are seen, valued, and capable of greatness. How we respond will determine how history remembers us. Will we be remembered as leaders who guided our youth through turbulent waters, or as those who allowed another uprising to erupt half a century later?

The story of the Ndlovu Youth Choir offers a glimpse of what is possible. Emerging from Limpopo, many of its members were orphaned by HIV and raised without basic amenities like running water or electricity. These young people were taught a skill by leaders who chose to rise. Today, they are global sensations. Their journey is proof that when we invest in our youth, courage triumphs over circumstance.

As South Africans, we must recommit to the vision of Ubuntu. Youth unemployment is not an abstract statistic; it is the lived reality of our sons and daughters, nieces and nephews, neighbours, and friends. If we rise together, South Africa will not only participate in the future of education and work; it will lead it.

The question is simple: how do we want to be remembered?

Dr Kershen Pillay is the CEO of Graduate Institute of Financial Services (GIFS).

©Higher Education Media Services.

Malesela Maubane

It is well-known that the call for comments by the Department of Basic Education (DBE) on the draft New History Curriculum and Assessment Policy Statements (CAPS) for Grades 4 to 12 was met with mixed feelings across various sectors of South African society.

African history, heritage, and local history are some of the fields underpinning the new history CAPS draft. Excellence Awards held by the Limpopo Department of Education’s Maune Circuit in Ga-Mashashane during Freedom Month prompted me to reflect on the above-mentioned elements forming the basis for the envisioned history curriculum overhaul.

The awards intended to celebrate academic, extra, and co-curricular achievements within the circuit’s primary and secondary schools for the 2025 academic year.

Besides alignment with the right to education in line with Section 29 of the Republic of South Africa’s Constitution, the Maune Circuit 2026 Excellence Awards and the above-mentioned CAPS fields are also aligned with provisions of Sections 30: language and culture, and 31: cultural, religious and linguistic communities, respectively.

The name of the circuit, Maune, was also given to a village in Ga-Mashashane along the Ngopane and Ramahute hills - of importance for the Mashashane tribe - as it was apparently a name given to significant MaNdebele of Ledwaba/Maune settlements, headquarters or ruins of their settlements, hence “Maune a ntlo tša go swa.”

Ga-Mashashane is located between Polokwane and Mokopane towns. On the origin of the tribal area’s name, the departed Dr Moses Josiah Madiba (Honoris Causa), educationist, linguist, and author, wrote in the Sesotho Sa Leboa book, Mahlontebe III, Lesson 25: “Polokwane evolved from Masešane, which seemingly originated from the Sepedi adage “Sešane sa basadi”.

The Mashashane area was proclaimed around 1904 and is currently under the traditional custodianship of Nkrosi Magadangele II Mashashane, son of Nkrosi Joel Sibasa II and Mokgaetji II Tlakale Mashashane.

Languages mainly spoken in the area are siNdebele sase Nyakatho (also called Northern Ndebele; falls under the Tekela group of Nguni languages, which includes siSwati, sePhuti, isiBhaca, and isiHlubi), Northern Sotho, and Xitsonga.

Dr Moroamaraba Shashi Johannes Ledwaba located Ga-Mashashane within the history of Christianity in South Africa, by implication, educational development, through the thesis for his University of Pretoria doctoral degree (2005) titled “Development of Indigenous Leadership in the church of the Province of Southern Africa, with special reference to the Diocese of St. Mark the Evangelist.”

The late Dr Ledwaba wrote that several men from Ga-Mashashane, including Nkrosi Sikxhobejana Maraba, Nkrosi Mabhangula Maraba, Kgolokgotlha Mogabudi Ledwaba, Jonas Mantjiu, and Sethala Sema, went to work in the Cape Colony to acquire guns and avenge the death of Nkrosi Maraba II at the hands of Boers.

Upon their return, some of the men had converted to Christianity, mainly Anglicanism, and Lutheranism. The Morwasethula Primary School in Mapateng Village, which is named after Nkrosi Maraba III and is historically linked to the Anglican Church.

On the other hand, the Mashashane Primary School in Moshate Village had a link to the Evangelical Lutheran Church wherein the late Dr MJ Madiba wrote about the church in the Sesotho Sa Leboa children’s book, Mahlontebe IV, Lesson 24: Ntlokgolo ya Majakane.

The choice of Botsikana Secondary School in Segwahleng Village as a venue for the Maune Circuit’s Excellence Awards is relevant as its name is an important part of Mashashane local history. The school is named after the daughter of Nkrosi Sixhobejana Maraba, who was also the wife of Nkrosi Maraba III (Morwasethula).

Some of the award categories in the awards hosted by the Circuit managed by Dr Johannes Motona and located under the Capricorn North District included: Good performance in gateway subjects - Accounting, Mathematics, Physical Sciences, educators and subjects with distinctions, subjects that achieved 80% and more in the National Senior Certificate (NSC) results, schools’ awards, extra-mural, co-curricular activities, and the Circuit Managers’ awards.

In the schools’ awards category, specifically the 2025 NSC performance, Position 1 went to Dr MJ Madiba Secondary School (named after educationist, linguist, and author Dr Moses Josiah Madiba) for improved matric results from 77.4% in 2024 to 100% in 2025. As South Africa commemorates 50 years of the 16 June 1976 Soweto Uprising this year, my alma mater, located in Ga-Madiba Village, also marks its golden jubilee milestone.

Tlakale Mashashane Secondary School in Mandela Village, named after the Queen Mother Mokgaetji II Tlakale Mashashane, was celebrated for obtaining Position 2 with a 98.2% achievement and the highest number of bachelor passes, 101 or 61.1%.

In Position 3, having obtained a 98.0% matric pass rate, Mmatshipi Secondary School in Utjane Village takes its name from Nkrosi Maraba II’s first wife, Mmatshipi from the Bakgaga-Ba-Mphahlele royal house.

Overall, the Maune Circuit achieved an overall 94% matric pass rate for 2025 with the following quality attributes: Bachelor passes, 47.5%, and Bachelor and Diploma passes combined, 77.3%.

The circuit’s 2025 NSC results achievement surpassed the 88% at the national level, 86.15% for Limpopo Province, and 87.9% for the Capricorn North District.

Highlights and winners in the Circuit Manager’s Awards category include:

• Mr Peter Sekhaolelo, an educator at Mashianoke Primary School, named after a Kganyago ancestor and situated in Monotwane Village. Sekhaolelo was recognised for outstanding contribution and dedication to the upliftment of school sports, wherein he also manages a softball team based in the village, with some of its former and current players, men and women, continuing to feature competitively in softball teams at the varsity, provincial, and national levels.

• Mashianoke Primary School for obtaining Position 2 in the National School Nutrition Programme (NSNP) at the Provincial level.

• Napo Primary School in Ga-Madiba Village for attainment of Position 1 in Schools Entrepreneurship Initiatives at the Capricorn District level.

• Mr Edwin Rammutla, Principal of Tlakale Mashashane Secondary School, in recognition of outstanding instructional leadership and great contribution to the number of learners passing and the bachelor pass achievement in 2025 NSC results.

• Dr Johannah Rapetsoa, Principal of Dr MJ Madiba Secondary School, in recognition of the 100% pass rate and great improvement in Bachelor passes in the 2025 NSC results.

Winners across categories received trophies, certificates and medals, with Old Mutual and Toshiba serving as main sponsors, with the hope to expand the awards in future and attract more sponsors to provide incentives such as laptops for top-performing schools, teachers and learners.

Africans, including my maternal and paternal folks, the Mothapos and the Maubanes, are historically migratory but have since built (baakhile) a life over five generations in Ga-Mashashane.

Additionally, my paternal grand-aunts, Kgoboko and Mperekeng, married into the Mashashane royal family, which I guess makes me no ordinary “mukhambi” and perhaps a licence to tell the local history with some degree of authority.

Maubane is a master’s student of public affairs at Tshwane University of Technology (TUT) and a former president of the Public Relations Institute of Southern Africa (PRISA). He writes in his capacity as a Mohlonong Village, Ga-Mashashane local.

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By Malik Arafat

On one side are communities raising concerns about uncontrolled illegal immigration, pressure on public services, and growing competition in informal and low-skilled sectors.

On the other side are voices warning against xenophobia and Afrophobia, urging protection of vulnerable foreign nationals.

Lost in this debate is a deeper and more uncomfortable truth: South Africans are not responding to migration in a vacuum. They are responding through the lens of history.

South Africa, like many parts of the world, has a long history of externally influenced population movements.

From the early colonial period to the mining and agricultural economies, systems were deliberately structured to move and control labour across borders. Migrant labour was not accidental — it was organised, regulated, and often exploitative.

Globally, similar patterns can be observed. In Australia, European settlement led to the displacement of Indigenous populations. In the Americas, the collapse of Indigenous populations and the importation of enslaved Africans reshaped entire societies. In Brazil, policies encouraging European immigration sought to alter the demographic composition of the country.

These were not organic migrations. They were coordinated, often state-supported efforts tied to economic control, land, and power.

It is important to be clear: it’s unclear whether immigration in present-day South Africa is a direct continuation of those historical projects or not, since there is to-date no clear evidence of a coordinated, corporate or state-driven programme to replace local populations.

It seems today’s migration patterns are largely driven by regional inequality, economic opportunity, and, critically, weak governance and enforcement. However, the role of syndicates cannot be overlooked because of the prevalence of human and drugs trafficking, hijacked buildings and properties, illegal mining, counterfeit products etc.

Unfortunately, dismissing public concern outrightly ignores the lived realities of many South Africans.

In townships, informal settlements, and rural areas, the experience of migration is not measured in national statistics. It is felt in crowded clinics, long housing waiting lists, limited job opportunities, and the visible transformation of local economies.

In many of these spaces, foreign nationals are highly active in small-scale trade and informal business sectors, creating both economic dynamism and heightened competition.

For communities already struggling with unemployment and limited access to services, this can create a real sense of displacement — whether or not it reflects national demographic trends.

A key issue complicating this debate is the lack of reliable and widely trusted data. Official figures suggest that foreign nationals make up a relatively small percentage of the total population. However, illegal and undocumented migration is inherently difficult to measure, and gaps in data collection fuel suspicion and mistrust.

When people’s lived experiences appear to contradict official statistics, confidence in institutions erodes.

This gap between perception and data is where tensions grow.

It is in this space that accusations of xenophobia often emerge. While there have been undeniable instances of violence and discrimination that must be condemned, not every concern about immigration is rooted in hatred. Many are rooted in frustration with governance failures — failures in border management, documentation systems, economic planning, and service delivery.

At the same time, it is equally important to recognise that unchecked rhetoric can easily shift from policy critique to targeting people, particularly the most vulnerable. This is where the line must be carefully and consciously drawn.

South Africa’s challenge, therefore, is not simply about migration. It is about management, accountability, and trust.

A sustainable path forward requires:

- Clear and enforceable immigration policies

- Efficient and transparent documentation systems

- Stronger local economic development to reduce competition over scarcity

- Reliable data that is openly communicated and trusted by the public

Most importantly, it requires a reframing of the conversation.

The question is not whether migration should exist — it always has and always will. The real question is whether it is being managed in a way that is fair, lawful, and sustainable for both citizens and foreign nationals.

History teaches us that population movements, when poorly managed or deliberately manipulated, can have lasting consequences. But history also teaches us that fear, when left unchecked, can lead to division and injustice.

South Africa stands at the intersection of both lessons.

The task now is to move beyond accusation and denial, and towards a grounded, honest conversation — one that recognises real pressures, rejects harmful generalisations, and demands better from those entrusted to govern.

Malik Arafat is Veteran Azanian Muslim Activist, Author and former journalist at SABC (Lesedi FM) and former Head of News at Islamic Television Networks (ITV).

©Higher Education Media Services.