• An increase in the number and value of medical malpractice claims against the State.

• Legal system for calculating and payment of future medical expenses and compensation unsatisfactory.

• Two alternatives: Undertaking-to-pay for future medical expenses and a ceiling cap for pain and suffering.In recent years, the number of claims for damages against the state for harm caused by medical malpractice has grown. The values of these claims have also increased significantly, placing financial strain on South Africa’s public healthcare system and raising concerns about whether the state will be able to provide accessible healthcare to those who depend on it.

“The current legal system which regulates the calculation and payment of future medical expenses and compensation payable for pain and suffering to victims in medical malpractice cases against the state is unsatisfactory. We lack meaningful political and regulatory interventions to address this issue,” says Cape Town-based legal practitioner Dr Robyn Conradie, who recently obtained her doctorate in Private Law from Stellenbosch University in a statement.

Conradie identified two alternative methods to calculate and pay compensation to victims of medical malpractice, namely the undertaking-to-pay for future medical expenses and a ceiling cap for pain and suffering.

She says an increase in claims against the state means that the public purse is used to litigate and pay compensation to successful claimants, which leaves less money available for public healthcare. This becomes a vicious cycle.

“Because public healthcare facilities pay this compensation from a shrinking health budget, and although the state may have ‘deep pockets’, it could find itself unable to continue paying compensation claims for medical malpractice and simultaneously provide healthcare. This may leave medical malpractice victims at a risk of not receiving redress for harm suffered.”

To illustrate the scale of the financial burden, Conradie highlights data from the South African Law Reform Commission showing that in the 2020/21 financial year nearly R2 billion was paid out in damages, with contingent liabilities exceeding R120 billion in the same year.

According to her, the increase in incidents of medical malpractice is due to various reasons, including patients becoming more aware of their rights, corruption, and the mismanagement of funds and resources.

She says the undertaking-to-pay for future medical expenses and a ceiling cap for pain and suffering could help balance fairness for victims with the long-term sustainability of the public healthcare system.

“Instead of paying victims a once-off lumpsum for future medical expenses, the Department of Health could undertake to pay for any future medical expenses as and when they arise by virtue of an undertaking-to-pay certificate.

“This will overcome the department’s cash flow problems as well as reduce litigation costs when calculating future medical expenses because the value of these expenses won’t have to be calculated at the end of litigation, thus reducing the potential for over- or under-compensation of claimants.”

“The increase in costs (to pay for the potentially increased administrative burden of introducing an undertaking-to-pay) can be off-set by the financial savings brought about by no longer having to pay once-off lumpsums. Where no lumpsum is paid, the money can be invested and ring-fenced for healthcare services.

“This may reduce transaction costs, such as legal fees and the high costs of obtaining expert opinion, which may no longer be required because these future medical expenses no longer have to be calculated upfront.”

Conradie points out that it is expensive and time consuming to calculate future medical expenses and claimants are likely to be over or undercompensated under current law.

“The state pays compensation to claimants who receive a windfall, where the financial resources could have been used for public healthcare. On the other hand, undercompensation results in the inadequate redress for claimants.

“Both the over- and undercompensation of claimants worsen the medical malpractice crisis. The values paid for future medical expenses are high and are draining the financial resources of the state. It also causes the state cash-flow problems.”

Conradie says because her alternative approach reduces the potential for undercompensation, a claimant will not outlive his/her award for future medical expenses.

“As long as the litigant lives, they will have access to the undertaking-to-pay certificate, and their medical expenses will be covered. As it stands, if the award turns out to be too little, as is often the case, then the claimant is undercompensated and out of pocket.

“The Department of Health won’t have to pay large lumpsums all at once to individual litigants, meaning there is an increase in cash flow which can be re-invested into the healthcare sector.

“It would also be reasonable to limit the compensation for pain and suffering and to calculate non-patrimonial damages based on the overall extent of a person’s impairment.”

Conradie says it would be possible to implement the suggested alternatives without any major financial implications for the state.

“We are not yet at a point of no return and with the right interventions, we could see real improvement of public healthcare while ensuring that victims of medical malpractice are compensated fairly.”

Story by Alec Basson was first published in Stellebosch University Website.

©Higher Education Media Services.

Africa’s green transition will not be won by policy ambition alone. It will depend on whether universities can redesign what they teach, how they teach, and whom they prepare for a rapidly changing economy.

Africa’s green transition is often discussed as if it were mainly an energy issue. It is not. It is also an education issue, a labour market issue, and a development issue. If universities continue to teach for yesterday’s economy while governments and industries speak about decarbonisation, resilience and sustainable growth, the transition will eventually run into a skills wall.

That is the problem; higher education is still not confronting the issue with enough urgency.

Across the continent, public debate about the green transition usually focuses on renewable energy, climate finance, industrial policy and emissions targets. These are important. But one of the biggest bottlenecks lies elsewhere: in the curriculum.

A country can adopt ambitious environmental goals, build green policy frameworks and attract investment into cleaner sectors. Yet if its universities continue to graduate students from programmes designed for a more siloed, more carbon-intensive and less interconnected economy, the transition will be slowed not by a lack of vision, but by a lack of capability.

This is where many universities remain behind the times.

In most institutions, climate change and sustainability are still treated as specialist concerns. They are placed inside environmental science departments, isolated centres or a few optional electives.

That response may once have appeared adequate. It is no longer enough. The green transition is not a niche topic to be added at the margins of existing programmes. It is a structural reorganisation of economies, labour markets, public systems and infrastructure priorities. That means higher education cannot continue treating it as a side issue. It must reshape what students learn, how knowledge is organised and how different fields are connected.

At present, most universities are not designed for that task.

They are still built around disciplinary boundaries that make administrative sense but make less and less sense in the real world. Engineering sits in one place, environmental science in another, economics elsewhere, and public policy somewhere else again.

But the green transition does not happen in disciplinary boxes. Real transition problems arrive as systems problems. Energy is linked to infrastructure. Water is linked to planning. Climate is linked to health. Industrial policy is linked to finance, logistics, materials and regulation. African universities still separate these worlds far more neatly than reality does.

That matters because the green transition is not only creating a few new occupations. It is changing the knowledge demands of existing ones. Engineers now need to understand resilience, lifecycle design, emissions constraints and circular production. Commerce graduates need to understand transition finance, risk disclosure and changing supply chains.

Public administrators need to consider energy governance, adaptation planning, and infrastructure stress. Health professionals will increasingly confront the service burdens caused by environmental disruption. Even where the job title remains the same, the work is changing.

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Yet universities often continue to act as though the answer lies in producing more specialists, rather than more connected thinkers. The problem is not depth. The problem is depth without integration.

A graduate may leave university with strong technical competence in a narrow field and still be poorly prepared for the practical realities of transition. A future engineer may understand the mechanics of a system without understanding the policy, social and ecological context in which that system must now operate.

A future policymaker may understand climate frameworks without understanding implementation constraints. A business graduate may understand strategy but not how climate risk and green industrial restructuring are reshaping the economy. In all these cases, disciplinary knowledge remains important, but on its own it is no longer enough.

The real danger is that universities are still teaching for an economy that is disappearing while claiming to prepare students for the one that is emerging.

Part of the problem is institutional inertia. Universities are built for continuity. Programme approval systems are slow. Academic departments protect their boundaries. Accreditation systems can become cautious.

Curriculum change is often treated as a routine review exercise rather than an urgent strategic responsibility. What may once have been defensible is now becoming increasingly irresponsible.

If labour markets are being reshaped by electrification, adaptation, circular production, energy-system change and green industrial policy, then higher education must respond at a similar speed. Otherwise, institutions will continue producing graduates whose knowledge maps poorly onto the demands of the future.

So what would a serious redesign look like?

First, universities must stop treating climate relevance as the responsibility of specialist units alone. Every programme should ask how transition pressures are reshaping its field. This does not mean turning every qualification into an environmental degree. It means accepting that sustainability, resilience and resource pressures are now basic conditions of professional practice across multiple sectors.

Second, universities need to design programmes that integrate systems thinking with disciplinary mastery. The green transition requires graduates who can work across boundaries: between engineering and policy, finance and infrastructure, technology and inequality, science and implementation. The aim is not to weaken expertise, but to make expertise more usable.

Third, applied learning must move to the centre. The green transition will be won or lost in municipalities, utilities, transport systems, farms, factories, clinics and public agencies. Students should not encounter sustainability only through concepts and policy language. They should work on real problems in real contexts. A curriculum that does not connect knowledge to implementation will always lag behind the reality it claims to address.

Fourth, universities need more flexible programme architectures. Africa’s green transition will not be driven only by school-leavers entering traditional three- or four-year qualifications. Mid-career workers will need reskilling.

Professionals will need targeted upgrading. Technicians and practitioners will need stackable, shorter learning formats. Institutions that remain tied solely to long, front-loaded qualifications will struggle to keep pace with and respond to the unevenness of change across sectors and regions.

Finally, internal incentives must change. As long as universities reward research output far more reliably than curriculum innovation, and administrative compliance more readily than external responsiveness, redesign will remain too slow. University leaders must begin to treat curriculum reform as a strategic priority, not as academic housekeeping.

This matters especially in Africa because the continent cannot afford a green transition that is rhetorically ambitious but institutionally thin. Africa needs more climate discourse.

It needs engineers who can build resilient systems, planners who understand sustainable settlements, health professionals who can respond to climate-linked stress, entrepreneurs who can grow green industries, and graduates across fields who can work with complexity rather than inside narrow academic compartments.

The green transition will not fail because there are too few conferences, declarations or speeches. It will fail if the institutions responsible for preparing the next generation continue to move too slowly, teach too narrowly and preserve boundaries that the real world has already outgrown.

The university curriculum is no longer a matter of background. It is part of the transition infrastructure itself.

And if African universities do not redesign it now, it may become one of the main reasons the transition falls short.

Fulufhelo Nemavhola is a Deputy Vice Chancellor at the Durban University of Technology, and he writes in his personal capacity.

©Higher Education Media Services.

By Grant Abbott

For years, concerns have been raised about governance failures at the University of Fort Hare in particular. These concerns did not start now with the recent suspension of the Vice-Chancellor.

They were flagged by the Parliamentary Portfolio Committee on Higher Education in November 2024, and by the National Tertiary Education Union (NTEU) as far back as 2018.

Below I will outline the seldom-reported occurrences of failed adherence to good governance practices, and how this historic institution got to where it is now. There is a disturbing pattern of ignoring policy and there is a common denominator in all of these cases.

I will conclude with a few ideas on how we can get Fort Hare back to being an institution that can focus on developing our leaders of tomorrow and be a place people from all walks of life would be proud to associate with once again.

During a Parliamentary Portfolio Committee on Higher Education and Training meeting in November 2024, Sakhela Buhlungu (the Vice-Chancellor) was questioned on why the university was flouting proper appointment processes.

This followed revelations that Isaac Plaatjies, Director of Vetting and Investigations in the Vice-Chancellor’s office, had been brought in on multiple short-term contracts before being appointed to a senior position without a proper interview process.

It is worth noting that the NTEU wrote to the VC about Plaatjie’s appointment in 2018 raising concern about the fact that no vetting had been done as no recruitment and interview process took place as per policy. That letter went unanswered.

It also emerged, during the same PCC meeting, that the Chief Financial Officer’s wife was appointed into a role in HR without following due recruitment procedures.

In offering an explanation to these irregular appointments, the VC said he was “poorly advised” by people, who are now under arrest and no longer within the university system. Assuming this is true, how then are the current irregular appointments justified if those who “poorly advised” the VC are no longer there?

But the issues go beyond irregular appointments.

Another issue of irregular conduct involves the Vice-Chancellor’s erstwhile Office Manager, who was also on multiple short contracts within his office. On 30 January 2023, she asked the Vice-Chancellor for a pay rise. He approved it on the same day and within days, her salary was pushed to R1.47 million per year, along with R531,000 in backpay. There was no proper process. No job evaluation. No benchmarking.

Instead, the numbers were worked backwards to justify the increase. Furthermore, evidence suggested the pay slip used to support the increase may have been falsified. Even then, action was delayed.

The Supply Chain Manager, (a former PRASA employee whose name came up in the Zondo commission), was appointed on short term contracts with the approval of the Vice-Chancellor and CFO.

He was also later arrested on corruption charges.

A separation agreement seen by NTEU records that the Vice-Chancellor would have signed off on a separation package of R1.59 million in the employee’s favour

one month after his arrest on murder and corruption-related charges.

An article published by Ground Up on 17 October 2025, reported that an employee allegedly involved in siphoning approximately R17 million for undelivered work was appointed ICT Director in 2025.

Despite the Vice-Chancellor reportedly being warned by the Special Investigating Unit (SIU) about serious findings against this employee, he nonetheless proceeded with the employee’s appointment to the executive position of ICT Director.

The university, in response to reporting on the matter, dismissed the report as “doctored” or inaccurate, stating that the final report was still on the Vice-Chancellor’s desk. However, when the article was later updated, it noted that the SIU confirmed that the document in question was in fact a draft affidavit prepared by one of its investigators, even though it was an earlier version.

These are not isolated incidents. They point to a deeper problem: weak oversight, delayed accountability, and protection of insiders.

The pattern remains the same and the common denominator is Buhlungu.

The real question one needs to ask is not about how serious the current allegations are, but rather how did it get this far?

Previous councils failed to act and hold the Vice-Chancellor accountable. Those councils bear great responsibility for much of the challenges now facing Fort Hare. Critical questions around decisions that were made outside normal processes (often called “deviations” signed by the VC), financial interventions that don’t follow proper controls, protection of favoured insiders, and a leadership style that operates above institutional rules were not asked or answered.

Simply put, governance systems appear to have been bypassed.

The question must be asked: would the institution be in its current turmoil had proper recruitment and related processes been followed for Plaatjies, and the above employees? Add to that the further executive appointments made without following due process.

Are these not the very processes designed to ensure proper governance and vetting?

The new council has inherited quite a mess and this moment is bigger than just one suspension. It is a test.

Will the new leadership confront the full extent of these governance failures which

occurred under the watch of this Vice-Chancellor, or will the pattern continue?

This situation did not appear overnight. It was allowed to happen either through deliberate maleficence or gross incompetence.

Buhlungu enjoys a wide media coverage that positions him as a courageous corruption buster. This is no doubt a curated public relations campaign which has clouded the ability of the tax-paying public to critically consider a difficult view – that Buhlungu himself may be the corruption mastermind.

Perhaps his intentions were good in the beginning, but as the saying goes, “the road to hell is paved with good intentions”. One cannot root out corruption by creating more corruption.

There are further critical questions that must be asked of this Vice-Chancellor and he must be made to answer them – regardless of the prevailing perception of his well-meaning attempts to root out corruption.

1. How did 20-something employees and service providers get appointed under Buhlungu’s watch? Make no mistake, almost all those arrested in the on-going corruption and murder trial came into the Fort Hare system AFTER Buhlungu got appointed.

2. If those who were “poorly advising” the VC, are now out of the system, why is the pattern of irregular appointments still continuing?

3. How did he approve a R1m salary increase to his office manager the same day the request was made?

4. Why would the VC allegedly appoint an ICT Director knowing he may be implicated in serious irregularities?

5. Why has the Vice-Chancellor not met with stakeholders as directed by the Minister in June 2023?

The final overarching question that must be asked again is who is the common denominator here? And there is only one answer to that question. Buhlungu. The suspension and disciplinary process is necessary to clear the air and place formally before an impartial chairperson his complicity in the past 8 years.

We must now address the critical importance of transparency and accountability.

The 1997 White Paper on Transformation in Higher Education outlines critical steps for public accountability of our university institutions. The crucial element that has been eroding slowly at many institutions, not least of which at Fort Hare, is meaningful consultation with stakeholders.

Public Higher Education institutions are funded by the taxpayers through funding allocation from the National Treasury. Students, staff and the wider community have a right to know what is happening in these institutions with their money.

Yet, institutional autonomy – a concept constructed to ensure the integrity of the constitutional right of academic freedom – is being used as a tool to evade public accountability.

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Years ago, NTEU coined the phrase “university capture” to describe how executive management and councils of institutions are side-stepping fiduciary responsibility to contrive crises so that “deviations” can be approved for dodgy service providers linked to themselves or close family or friends.

Millions are spent on private security without proper tender processes, and this is all done by systematically inserting questionable individuals into key positions who will do the necessary bidding of VCs and others who wish to “rob the public purse”.

The University of Fort Hare is a case study on how corporate governance should not be done. But it can also be a case study on how to fix it once we have identified the problem.

And we do not need to re-invent the wheel. The 1997 White Paper provides the framework. All we need is to get back to that process.

A simple five-point plan to bring Fort Hare back to an institution of good governance again can be as follows:

1. Council must immediately establish a multi-stakeholder consultative forum as a sub-structure of itself. This will allow stakeholders such as unions, student formations, alumni, convocation and others to have a place to voice concerns and solutions.

2. Immediately start the recruitment and selection process for a new VC, while simultaneously securing experts and stakeholders for the shortlisting and interview panels.

3. Appoint an investigation firm to look at all currently suspended staff and student cases.

4. Have all the buildings inspected for habitability, starting with student residences and use this as the baseline for critical repair work.

5. Quality check all academic programmes and qualifications so that repeat incidents such as the debacle around the Speech Therapist qualifications will not re-occur.

And overall, across the sector, Vice-Chancellors’ powers need to be curtailed and councils must be dragged before Parliament for failing to hold the institutional management accountable.

The problem is complex, but the solution is simple if we get back to the basics of policy and procedure adherence and reignite constructive stakeholder engagement.

Grant Abbott is General Secretary of the National Tertiary Union.

© Higher Education Media Services.

Alarm bells have been ringing about how artificial intelligence (AI) will replace certain, if not most, future jobs. But this fixation on job loss may be asking the wrong question. The real issue is not whether AI will take jobs; it is about who controls AI and how it will be used.

AI is not an autonomous entity or a corporation with incentives of its own. AI’s impact is shaped by political decisions, corporate incentives and the values of those in power, not by the technology itself. A small group of individuals control the most prominent, powerful and widely used AI software, and it is the motives of these individuals that should be questioned.

The real challenge, then, is not how to stop AI, but how to ensure that its power is shaped in the public interest. According to Prof. Linda du Plessis, Deputy Senior Vice-Chancellor of the North-West University (NWU), this technology needs a moral custodian, and public universities can ensure that society, not just corporations, has a voice in AI’s future.

“The key question is not whether AI replaces humans, but ‘who will own these systems and have a say in their development’. AI processes patterns and data, but it does not understand meaning the way we do. AI can remix existing ideas, but original ideas and groundbreaking creativity come from human imagination and lived experience.

“Jobs that rely on empathy and form the backbone of a society – teaching, counselling, leadership and caregiving – require a real human connection that AI cannot replicate. This is where universities play a critical role: they develop the ability to think, question and engage with complexity.

“Real life is messy. Humans adapt to unexpected situations far better than AI, which relies on patterns and structured inputs. You cannot question what you do not understand. Ultimately, humans remain accountable,” she states, adding that too much emphasis is being placed on the technology rather than those who control it.

“Whilst the world is speculating about the impact of AI on the future of jobs, my view is that this is not the right question to ask, as it frames the future as a technological issue. A deeper and more important question is: who is leading the change, and in whose interest?

“AI does not develop in a vacuum. Therefore, the future of work is not just about technology, it is about leadership, governance and ethics,” Prof. du Plessis explains.

“There are two possible directions for AI. AI can either replace or empower humans,” she says, noting how humanity has been at similar technological crossroads before: “History has a way of humbling our certainty when it comes to technology and has repeatedly shown how augmentation can lead to empowerment.”

This is where public universities such as the NWU will play an increasingly critical role in setting and maintaining a moral course for the owners and users of AI to follow.

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“Universities are not just producing workers; they are producing critical thinkers, ethical decision-makers and future leaders. They also provide the social environments where students learn to collaborate, communicate and engage with diverse perspectives.

“AI can process large volumes of data, but humans must decide what is right, fair and meaningful. Education must ensure that humans remain in control of technology, not controlled by it.”

“Research shows that AI works best when it complements humans, not replaces them, especially in areas like leadership, problem-solving and collaboration. The direction we take depends on policy choices, leadership priorities and people’s ability to adapt.”

“With good leadership, AI can reduce inequality, improve quality of life and lead to the creation of new industries and jobs. AI is not the problem. The real issue is who controls it and whether we have a voice in that future. The real danger is not AI, but rather a passive society. Our future depends on the choices we make and the people we trust to lead,” she says.

Although these concerns carry weight, Prof. du Plessis stresses that learners and parents should not respond passively but actively shape their place in future job markets.

“To allay fears about being replaced, the best way is to make yourself irreplaceable. To do that requires a focus on lifelong learning, disciplinary expertise that enables you to think critically and creatively, and the ability to use AI as part of your work.

“The most realistic future is humans working with AI, not being replaced by it. Those who learn to use AI will have an advantage.” AI is not just a tool; it is becoming a core building block of the future, like electricity or the internet.

Yes, the AI alarm bells have been rung, but in an AI-driven world, those who think, adapt and act will not be replaced; they will lead.

©Higher Education Media Services.

South Africa’s basic education system faces interlinked challenges shaped by structural factors rooted in historical inequality, socio-economic pressures, and delivery constraints.

The situation is especially pronounced in the Gauteng Province where rapid in-migration, uneven access to early learning, weak foundational skills, infrastructure backlogs, safety risks, and resource limitations continue to affect education quality and learner outcomes.

A historical overview of basic education in Gauteng

In Gauteng, enrolment across all schools increased from 1 408 237 learners in 1995 to 2 835 168 in 2026, reflecting strong population growth driven by urbanisation and migration into the province.

Overall learner numbers have grown by more than 100% since 1995. Enrolment has continued to rise at an average of about 2% year, adding more than 50 000 learners annually.

While nominal allocations in the education budget have increased, high inflation in educational materials and food for school nutrition have a direct impact on these increases.

Thus, despite being the top spending priority for the democratic government, basic education’s share of total government expenditure has faced pressure and some infrastructure programs have experienced Cabinet-approved reductions.

Provincial education departments have faced immense budgetary strain and are facing shortages in teaching staff due to budget constraint. Gauteng is not unique in this respect.

Provincial outlook of the basic education ecosystem

A total of 2 429 058 of learners from 15 education districts in Gauteng, are in the public education system in the province. Combining both public and independent schools, the total number of learners in Gauteng as of 2026 stands at 2 808 785.

This includes both ordinary and Learners with Special Education Needs (LSEN) schools. These schools provide tailored education for children with learning difficulties, physical disabilities, or behavioural challenges.

This number translates to 86.4% of the total number in the Gauteng basic education system and is a slight decrease from 2 442 956 learners in 2025. Learners enrolled in independent schools amount to a total of 379 727 in 2026, a decrease from 392 212 in 2025.

Despite this, Gauteng continues to have the most number of independent schools in South Africa, with 127 974 of the 392 212 learners, or 32.6 percent, being in subsidised independent schools.

While the Gauteng Department of Education continues to deliver classrooms and new schools where needed, we have not been able to keep pace with the growth in the learner population. This is compounded by ageing infrastructure and, in some cases, inappropriate building materials or temporary prefabricated classrooms.

Since 1996, more than 95% of the capital expenditure budget has been spent in disadvantaged Communities. Additionally, by 2014, the province had built sufficient classrooms to eliminate the historic 1995 backlog. But infrastructure supply has not kept pace with demand: only 48 schools were built or refurbished between 2015 and 2024.

An estimated 723 schools show signs of overcrowding in some grades or across the whole school, with a documented shortage of about 5 554 classrooms - 3 166 in primary and 2 388 in secondary schools.

Gauteng faces a deficit of at least 200 new schools to stabilise the system.

While the allocation has increased to over R68 billion, it remains insufficient relative to demand and inequality across schools. A rising wage bill for educators consumes a large share of the budget, leaving limited funding for learning materials, maintenance, and new infrastructure.

Funding pressures are compounded by inefficiencies and uneven resourcing. Some schools struggle to cover basic operating costs (utilities and staffing), and governance and management weaknesses can reduce the impact of available resources.

The second issue pertains to Early Childhood Development, which focuses on children aged 0 to 4 ½ years. The ECD function was transferred to the Department of Education as of 1 April 2022.

The key challenges with ECD centres in Gauteng is that a large number remain unregistered, often operating from informal structures that do not meet municipal health and safety requirements.

While the provincial government has undertaken a mass registration drive of ECD centres, registration is slow and paperwork-heavy. Additionally, zoning and approvals can take years and require coordination across multiple departments.

Learning outcomes remain weak, particularly in literacy and numeracy. In Gauteng, weak early-grade reading, comprehension, and numeracy create a silent crisis where learners progress without mastering basics, limiting later success and increasing the risk of repetition and dropout, especially in gateway subjects such as Mathematics and Physical Sciences.

Linked to this, in Grades 4 to 9, Maths and Science performance is constrained by shortages of qualified subject teachers and a persistent conceptual gap linked to weak early numeracy, particularly in overcrowded schools.

Gauteng schools achieved a historic performance in the 2025 National Senior Certificate (NSC) examinations, recording an 89.06% pass rate, with a Bachelor pass rate of 46%, the highest in the province’s history.

However, the statistics do not outline the challenge of broader poor performance in Grade 12, which is often a symptom of weak foundations laid in the primary school years, where critical literacy and numeracy skills were not fully mastered.

Gauteng also faces a retention crisis with boys, with a 21% dropout rate that disproportionately affects male learners, who made up only 44 percent of the 2025 matric cohort.

Another very serious challenge pertains to teacher quality. Teacher quality in Gauteng is uneven, driven by shortages of qualified educators in key subjects (especially maths, science, and technology), overcrowding, and resource constraints. Under-resourced schools face particular difficulty recruiting and retaining skilled teachers, with additional risks from an ageing workforce.

Gauteng, like the rest of the country, faces a severe shortage of STEM teachers, which is constraining the rollout of technical subjects in schools. The province is currently facing an estimated shortfall of 370 teachers in critical technology subjects.

The number of department-employed teachers has increased from 46 048 in 1995 to more than 71 209 in 2026 – an increase of over 55%. Continued growth and overcrowding require additional appointments. However, national fiscal consolidation has limited adjustments to the post establishment over the past five years.

In the short to medium term, about 1 173 posts are required to meet growth, with an estimated cost of R606 million. A further 2 333 posts will be needed to universalise Grade R. The province will also need to absorb more than 70 000 learners currently in private and community-based ECD centres into the mainstream, at an estimated cost of R1.3 billion.

The final challenge, which consistently rears its ugly head, pertains to school safety. School safety and learner wellness are increasingly material risks to learning in Gauteng, with incidents of violence near school premises, bullying, substance abuse, and escalating mental health needs.

The province applies the National School Safety Framework and partnerships (e.g., SAPS, safety committees, and awareness programmes) to address violence, bullying, online risks, and gender-based violence.

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Gauteng Department of Education 2025-2030 Strategic Plan

The Gauteng Department of Education has developed and adopted a five-year Strategic Plan that outlines our strategic focus and provides a framework for measuring our performance.

The Plan not only sets the long-term vision for the education ecosystem in the province, but it also indicates how this will be operationalised over the next five years through the accompanying Gauteng Medium Term Development Plan (GMTDP).

It is for this reason that the provincial education Plan focuses on the integration of technology into the curriculum, promoting critical thinking and problem-solving skills. This will ensure that learning is relevant to the real world and will prepare our learners for future challenges and opportunities, equipping them with the knowledge and skills necessary for success in a rapidly changing world.

In support of quality teaching and learning, the Department has introduced support strategies to improve all phases of the curriculum. The first is the General Education and Training (GET) Language and Mathematics Strategy, which incorporates the Reading component.

The second is the Maths Science and Technology (MST) Strategy aligns with the National MST Strategy and Implementation Plan. The strategy seeks to improve learner participation and success in MST subjects; teacher demand, supply, utilisation and support; the provisioning of resources; the establishing of partnerships; and the monitoring, evaluation, qualitative and quantitative research that informs the preceding four pillars.

The third is the Technical High School (THS) Strategy. The aim of the Technical High School (THS) Strategy is to expand participation by promoting and strengthening Technical High Schools for a changing and modernising world by offering technical subjects that will guide its activities over the next five years to address the skills shortage and unemployment crisis among the youth in the country.

The fourth is the FET Strategy, which is aimed at high and improved learner performance to ensure that it performs above the national average. The strategy is National Development Plan (NDP) goal driven, and continues to build on innovative teaching methodologies through ICT infrastructural enhancements, digital curriculum and assessment resources by supporting learners to progress in a diverse and purposeful manner.

Within this strategy is the Secondary School Improvement Programme (SSIP) which follows an integrated approach to ensure alignment to the school programme.

There are activities aimed at monitoring the delivery of curriculum in underperforming schools and in establishing systems to ensure the synchronised delivery of curriculum. This intervention programme is aimed at supplying adequate and effective electronic and printed resources for learners and teachers by providing teacher training, and the Holiday and Pre-exam Camps.

The final support strategy is the Reorganisation of Schools Strategy, with specific focus on Schools of Specialisation. The Gauteng Department of Education has taken a policy decision for learners to have access to a specialised, modern, relevant, dynamic and responsive curriculum that is an alternative to the traditional academic curriculum.

Stakeholder engagement

Over the coming months, the Gauteng Department of Education will be engaging various stakeholders to engage on how we can all play our part in ensuring the implementation of the 2025-2030 Strategic Plan and related programmes aimed at improving the education system in the province.

A meeting with principals and deputy principals across Gauteng schools will be taking place this coming week, to be followed by a meeting with School Governing Bodies within the coming week. We will also be engaging parents and communities, as well as stakeholders in the private, public and civil society sectors.

We are committed to improving the quality of teaching and learning in Gauteng, but we recognise that as the provincial government, we cannot achieve this on our own. Public-private partnerships, as well as collaborations with multilateral institutions, non-government organisations, academic institutions, religious institutions, and other stakeholders will play a key role in this endeavour. We will also be relying on the media to continue its important work of informing and educating the public, while also maintaining its independence and holding us accountable where necessary.

This is a shortened version of newly-appointed GDE MEC Lebogang Maile’s reflection on challenges faced by South Africa’s basic education system and he provides an overview of the Gauteng Department of Education’s five-year Strategic Plan.

©Higher Education Media Services.

Molo Qabane (Dear Comrade),

Our first meeting took place at the Workers’ Museum and Library in Newtown in 2000. Together with other comrades, we were engaged in the struggle to defend and advance the history and heritage of the working class—a class that continues to be under sustained economic, political, and social attack amid our present political disorder.

From the outset, I was drawn to your activism and scholarship. There was something familiar and grounding in your story—something that reminded me deeply of my uncles from the rural Eastern Cape who worked on the mines. Like them, your life trajectory is rooted in working-class struggle.

Your father was a mineworker. From that rural Eastern Cape background, you went on to become a teacher, an underground African National Congress activist, and later a student at the University of Cape Town. These are not merely biographical achievements; they are the making of a cadre.

In the 1980s at UCT, you met our mutual friend and comrade, David Cooper. You later joined the International Labour Research and Information Group (ILRIG), established in 1983, before being recruited by the Paper, Printing, Wood and Allied Workers’ Union (PPWAWU). From 1991 to 1992, you served as PPWAWU’s Deputy Secretary General, dedicating yourself to workers’ struggles.

Between 1992 and 1994, you worked for the Congress of South African Trade Unions—then a formidable and principled force—as a writer for The Shop Steward magazine of the largest trade union federation in the country.

In 1996, you entered academia as a lecturer and worked closely with the late Eddie Webster—a towering figure in labour studies. You came to Wits University not as a novice, but as an academic shaped by activism and union work. This is why you were able to learn from Eddie Webster, even as you also taught him.

Eddie once shared with me a story that speaks powerfully to your character and courage. In 2007, after the South African Sociological Association (SASA) conference at North-West University’s Potchefstroom Campus, you were driving behind Eddie Webster and Luli Callinicos. Their car hit an obstacle and could not continue. As you were changing their tyre, the three of you were attacked by armed thugs wielding knives.

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When I approached you in 2001 to supervise my Master’s degree, you were already a respected academic and researcher. Choosing a supervisor is never easy, but for me it was an obvious decision. While many students understandably gravitated towards Eddie Webster, I chose you. Beyond your intellectual rigour, there was something familiar and grounding—again reminding me of the men from the Eastern Cape I grew up admiring.

I completed my Master’s degree under your supervision. When you moved from Wits to UJ, I followed, and there I completed my doctoral thesis. I followed you because your supervision style was unique. You allowed me the freedom to write from within hard-core Marxism—to express radical politics and justified rage—but you never let me settle for ideology without scholarship. You asked piercing, difficult questions that forced me to revise, deepen, and engage Marxism with intellectual discipline and academic honesty.

You did not limit your role to commenting on drafts. You actively ensured that I had access to funding and institutional support so that I could complete my studies with dignity. Even after you moved on to the University of Pretoria and later the University of Cape Town, we remained in close contact and collaborated academically.

On 9 November 2016, the University of Fort Hare formally appointed you as Vice-Chancellor and Principal. We attended your inauguration in Alice on 3 May 2017. The ceremony was disrupted by noise and protest—an early sign that Fort Hare had become deeply contested and, frankly, hostile terrain.

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In the years since, I have heard and witnessed painful stories from Alice. There were credible threats against your life. On one occasion, enemies allegedly planned to attack you at a meeting, and you were saved only by the courage of colleagues who intervened. Like a seasoned cadre, you withdrew—not out of fear, but to fight another day. As Bob Marley reminds us, “He who fights and runs away lives to fight another day.”

Security concerns soon made it difficult to visit you. I remember meeting you in Alice inside a safe house, while the late Mr. Mboneli Vesele—a true soldier—stood guard outside. On another occasion, I met you in East London, where Mr. Vesele and his armed team escorted me to your makeshift office at the library. Even casual moments revealed the severity of the threat.

Your family has paid an immense psychological and financial price. Your partner, Dr Beata Buhlungu, and your children were forced to live under constant threat—like hunted beings. They had to learn security protocols, threat detection, and survival in an environment poisoned by intimidation and political malice.

Jonathan Jansen has written extensively about this crisis. What is especially alarming is how corruption and party-political meddling increasingly shape appointments of vice-chancellors, deputies, deans, directors, and professors. Mediocrity has become normalised. Scraping the bottom of the barrel is no longer an exception; it is becoming standard practice.

You, Comrade Sakhela, stand in direct opposition to this decay. You represent ethical leadership, merit, and excellence. That is precisely why your enemies want you removed. You are stubborn when it comes to principle. You value principle more than life itself. That is Sakhela Buhlungu.

As you approach retirement, I hope that we will reconnect—not just to reminisce, but to reflect critically on struggle, sacrifice, and what it truly means to serve.

Ndiyabulela, qabane.
(Thank you, comrade.)

Mondli Hlatshwayo
Associate Professor (Labour Studies and Worker Education)
Centre for Education Rights and Transformation
University of Johannesburg

This letter does not represent the views of the University of Johannesburg. These are the principled views of the writer.

©Higher Education Media Services.

Stability and good governance are not abstract ideals within the Post-School Education and Training (PSET) system—they are foundational requirements for any university that seeks to fulfil its academic, social, and developmental mandate. Where institutions are stable, teaching and learning proceed without interruption, research thrives, administrative systems function effectively, and students can focus on success rather than survival. Where governance is weak, however, instability quickly takes hold, eroding institutional credibility and undermining public trust.

Good governance in higher education is characterised by transparent leadership, accountability, ethical decision-making, and sound financial management. These principles are essential for ensuring that public resources are used responsibly and that universities remain responsive to the needs of students, staff, and society at large. Within the PSET system, governance is the backbone of effective policy implementation, academic integrity, and long-term sustainability.

The experience of the University of Fort Hare offers a sobering illustration of the consequences of governance failure and institutional instability. Over several years, leadership disputes, corruption allegations, breakdowns in accountability, and insufficient stakeholder engagement have created an environment marked by recurring student protests, destruction of infrastructure, and repeated disruptions to the academic programme. These disruptions have not only compromised teaching and learning but have also diverted scarce resources away from core developmental priorities.

Such instability comes at a high cost. It undermines academic outcomes, damages institutional reputation, and places additional strain on students—many of whom already face significant socio-economic challenges. For historically disadvantaged institutions like Fort Hare, which serve rural and underserved communities, the stakes are particularly high. Strong governance and institutional stability are not merely administrative concerns; they are essential tools for advancing transformation, improving access, and safeguarding educational quality.

Within this context, Parliament has a constitutional responsibility to act. An important mechanism for promoting accountability and good governance in the PSET system is the Portfolio Committee on Higher Education. The Committee exercises oversight over the Department of Higher Education and Training and public higher education institutions by scrutinising governance practices, considering independent assessor reports, engaging directly with university councils and management, and recommending corrective interventions where required.

In the case of institutions such as the University of Fort Hare, the Portfolio Committee has played a critical role in bringing governance failures into the open, monitoring the implementation of turnaround strategies, and reinforcing the principles of accountability and participatory governance.

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Oversight alone, however, is not sufficient. Institutional leadership must embrace ethical governance as a lived practice, not a compliance exercise. University councils, management, and stakeholders must work collaboratively to rebuild trust, establish clear lines of accountability, and prioritise the academic project above factional or personal interests. Stability is achieved not through rhetoric but through consistent, transparent action.

Honouring Fort Hare’s historic contribution requires more than celebrating its past. It demands decisive action in the present. Stability, ethical leadership, and good governance are essential to restoring the university’s credibility and ensuring it continues to serve the students and communities who depend on it.

Parliament, through vigilant oversight and accountability, has a critical role to play in safeguarding this national asset. When governance fails, intervention becomes a democratic necessity, not an intrusion. The future of the University of Fort Hare is inseparable from the future of transformation, justice, and opportunity in South Africa and beyond. Ensuring its stability is, ultimately, an investment in the country’s collective future.

Tebogo Letsie is Chairperson of the Portfolio Committee on Higher Education in South Africa’s National Assembly.

©Higher Education Media Services.

What if education systems across the world are not failing—but working exactly as designed?

In this powerful and deeply personal book, Professor Sigamoney Manicka Naicker challenges one of the most widely held assumptions in global education: that schools are the great equaliser.

Drawing on decades of experience at the highest levels of education policy and practice, as well as his own upbringing in a working-class community, Naicker argues that modern education systems systematically reproduce inequality—not by accident, but by design.

Across countries as diverse as South Africa, the United States, the United Kingdom, India, Mexico, and Egypt, education systems have converged around what Naicker calls a Pedagogy of Convenience—a model of schooling that prioritises standardisation, measurement, and administrative efficiency over the lived realities of children.

In such systems:

• Inequality is normalised rather than challenged

• Curriculum assumes uniform readiness

• Assessment rewards prior advantage

• Vulnerable children are positioned as deficient rather than underserved

The result is a global pattern: while privileged learners thrive, millions of children are systematically excluded—often within systems that appear successful on the surface.

But this book is not only a critique.

Naicker offers a compelling alternative: a Pedagogy of Resilience—an approach to education that begins with context, prioritises relationships, and recognises dignity, identity, and lived experience as central to learning.

Through a combination of theoretical insight, policy analysis, and practical guidance—particularly in Early Childhood Development and the Foundation Phase—this book provides educators, policymakers, and researchers with a framework for rethinking education in deeply unequal societies.

This is not just a book about education.

It is a call to confront uncomfortable truths, to rethink what we mean by inclusion, and to redesign systems so that they serve all children—not just those they were originally built for.

This book is available at amazon.com.

©Higher Education Media Services.

At a time when global division and uncertainty continue to shape societies, a powerful conversation between global humanitarian Graça Machel and Judy Sikuza, CEO of The Mandela Rhodes Foundation, is prompting renewed reflection on what leadership should look like today.

Hosted by The Mandela Rhodes Foundation and available as a [podcast] on its website, the discussion brings into focus a simple yet profound truth: Leadership is not just about position but also service. Machel emphasised a perspective that challenges traditional notions of authority and calls for a more grounded, human-centred approach to leadership.

A shift from power to people

Machel reflects on how the leadership discourse has increasingly drifted away from people towards power, markets and control. When societies begin to treat populations as markets, rather than communities, she argues, leadership risks losing its moral centre.

This perspective reframes leadership as a responsibility to human lives. A shift that has profound implications for how institutions define success, how governments shape policy and how economies measure growth.

Leadership for a changing world

These reflections align closely with insights from the World Economic Forum Global Future Council on Leadership, which presented its white paper at Davos titled Next generation leadership for a world in transformation: Driving dialogue and action.

Together, both the research and Machel’s lived experience point to a growing need for leadership models rooted in justice, care and interdependence, particularly across generations.

Nelson Mandela reminded us that ‘it is better to lead from behind and to put others in front’. His leadership was never about ego, it was about enabling others to rise. Machel supports this and stresses that leadership must be rooted in justice, care and interdependence, particularly across generations. It needs to be ethical, collective and human.

From ‘next generation’ to shared leadership

A key theme from the conversation is the need to rethink how intergenerational leadership is developed.

Rather than viewing leadership as something to be passed down, both Machel and Sikuza advocate for a model where it is shared, where leaders of today and tomorrow learn alongside one another. They argue that the leaders South Africa and Africa need are already here: They are young, diverse, restless and capable.

Often described as ‘the leaders of tomorrow’, while well intentioned this framing subtly delays responsibility. We need a ‘now’ generation of leaders, young people who are empowered, trusted and expected to lead today, while still being shaped for tomorrow.

This approach challenges linear notions of succession, rather promoting generational collaboration, where leadership is entrusted and shared.

Reclaiming humanity in leadership

At its core, the conversation underscores the truth that leadership must be human-centred before it can be system-centred.

In increasingly polarised societies, leadership that prioritises control over care risks deepening division. By contrast, leadership rooted in listening, dignity and relationship has the potential to rebuild trust and foster cohesion.

Drawing on the philosophy of Ubuntu - the understanding that our humanity is bound together - Machel presents leadership not as a title but as a practice: Grounded in presence, empathy and shared responsibility.

From ideas to action

Young leaders today are exposed to international best practice, new technologies and diverse ways of thinking. Yet what they sometimes lack is not insight, but access to platforms, networks, decision-makers and the permission to challenge systems that no longer serve us.

Effective leadership in Africa is not about importing solutions, it’s about adapting global ideas to African realities. The future belongs to leaders who can think globally, act locally and collaborate regionally.

A call to action

As global challenges become more complex and interconnected, the message is clear that leadership can no longer be performative or deferred. It must be lived: Daily, collectively and with intention. “We don’t need leaders in waiting, we need leaders in action,” says Sikuza.

‘Leadership is a responsibility we choose and is something we must practise with humility and with a deep commitment to building a better future for all.’

The full conversation is available on The Mandela Rhodes Foundation [podcast] across major platforms including Spotify, Apple Podcasts and YouTube.

©Higher Education Media Services.

The Zondo and Madlanga Commissions have helped to lay bare ‘state capture’ in South Africa. With some of it being dramatised on TV through many witnesses, only a few could claim not to know what it is.

On 23 March 2026, USAf held a seminal webinar on institutional governance, focusing on what was termed ‘institutional capture’ in the higher education sector. Evidently, state capture is what inspired this webinar.

The jury is still out there on what ‘institutional capture’, if separate from ‘state capture’, really is. There is ample evidence, though, that these two concepts overlap and even coalesce as some of the external and internal protagonists are of the same ilk.

From the presentations and discussions, it became apparent that there are internal and external forces at work. Because it takes two to tango, the familiar external players consisting of politicians, so-called business forums, convocation factions, and criminals collude with some internal staff with the sole intention to capture and gorge.

For all we know, the higher education sector might even have some senior managers who aid and abet institutional capture, just like the Madlanga Commission has outed some high-ranking police officers alleged to have facilitated police capture.

When state or institutional capture rears its ugly head, it brooks no opposition, and nobody may stand in its way. If one resists, one will be shoved aside no matter how flimsy and/or trumped up the allegations against one may be.

In my 20 years as a Vice-Chancellor, at least three (3) attempts to remove me have been made, for daring to stand up against power, corruption and malfeasance. This occurred in 2012, when I was at the Central University of Technology - where I served for 10 years as Vice-Chancellor and Principal.

Similar attempts to remove me have since occurred two more times, at the Durban University of Technology where I am in my 10^th year as Vice-Chancellor and Principal.

The most recent, and perhaps the most desperate attempt was in September 2024. It would be laughable if it was not such a tragic illustration of ongoing attempts to capture higher education institutions.

For my first ten-year tenure as Vice-Chancellor, I was without a bodyguard. But, I might not have survived the last eight years without bodyguards – thanks to the clear, present and continuing danger to my life amidst the raging waves of institutional capture.

Part of the genesis of the last attempt against me is a meeting I had with some members of Convocation way back in 2018 when they directly accused me of not giving them tenders – as if the giving of tenders was part of my job profile, authority or competence. It is not just a coincidence that all those convocants had once been in the SRC and their comrades were in Council till recently.

In South Africa, being in the SRC often connotes deep political roots aligned with political parties who practice what they call ‘democratic centralism’ – clearly a warped and corrupt understanding of the original meaning of democratic centralism.

As understood and practised by capturers of institutions, ‘democratic centralism’ is inimical to academia. It means the big political bosses, deeply implicated in state capture, run the show and everyone must fall like dominoes. There is, thus, this deep and insidious link with politics behind all developments we see in ‘institutional capture’.

Recently, we have seen Vice-Chancellors being dressed-down, almost frog-marched, publicly in parliament. Site visits are replete with both overt and covert messages in the corridors about tenders, which are the main instrument of state and institutional capture.

Given a safe platform that President Ramaphosa could perhaps provide, I could mention names, but not yet. Indeed, so many of us could mention names in high places. Even some very new Vice-Chancellors are not spared these flimsy and/or trumped up allegations about this or that so they know right at the beginning of their tenures that they must not upset the apple-cart of capture.

They must respect this warped version of ‘democratic centralism’ as politicians and their lackeys continue to be on the prowl for resources by whatever means.

Even though I have no knowledge of the depth of allegations against Professors Sakhela Buhlungu (University of Fort Hare) and Nokuthula Sibiya (Mangosuthu University of Technology), their cases may well fall smack in this category of flimsy allegations.

Let me just briefly analyse what Prof Sakhela Buhlungu is being accused of, namely appointments of executive directors that did not follow the process, as we read in newspaper articles.

Articles published so far reveal that it is him, in the first place, who went to Council to explain and correct this through condonation, which is a generally accepted practice in any organisation.

Clearly, there have been gaps at Fort Hare in the human resources division. Coincidentally, one of the executive directors is precisely meant to strengthen this very division. None of the articles points to any malicious intent on the part of Prof Buhlungu.

For all we know, Prof Buhlungu may have been trying to deal with an emergency for which he hoped to obtain subsequent Council condonation later. But, because they have been scrambling to find something against him, they cannot miss this perverse opportunity.

The reason we have the internal audit function in many organisations is because all professionals know there will be this or that which may not have followed established processes and controls and requires condonation or ratification.

As long as there is no malicious intent, we take lessons, correct the missteps and move on. If, henceforth, we were to suspend and discipline everyone found to have missed this or that process - but without malicious intent - so many would have to be suspended and disciplined in organisations.

Could Fort Hare’s Council or rather some members in it be captured by politicians and high ranking civil servants who practice the perverse connotation of ‘democratic centralism’?

Could this suspension be a backlash against Prof Buhlungu’s stoic posture against corruption? Could it be a response to the fact that through his agency the SIU has outed about 33 people, many of whom are high ranking politicians and civil servants for fraudulent degrees from Fort Hare?

Has Prof Buhlungu’s recent no holds barred interview with Ann Bernstein from CDE rubbed Fort Hare’s chair of Council the wrong way? Could Fort Hare’s chair of council, who is relatively junior in the higher education sector be wishing to ascend to the Vice-Chancellorship and just cannot wait for Prof Buhlungu to leave soonest? God forbid!

It is instructive to notice that the relevant parliamentary portfolio committee immediately issued a statement in support of Council’s action. Could they not have waited until the disciplinary processes had been completed?

The seemingly excellent coordination between the Portfolio Committee and the Council may not be that innocent. In that statement, none of the work Prof Buhlungu has been doing against corruption is being mentioned, let alone appreciated. Why would those with fellow politicians essentially in the dock, appreciate what Prof Buhlungu has done?

I write this article fully aware that it will be seen by politicians, their ilk, so-called business forums and convocation factions as an attack on them and as an attempt to derail their sinister agendas.

In 2011/12 I faced the music just after I had written a searing article like this one. I will most likely be called to parliament for a bout of dressing down and ridicule. I am at the tail end of my tenure, I have very little to lose. I must speak and I will speak. Sooner than later, there will be no one to speak for us as Vice-Chancellors, university executives and universities.

This country must do something to stem this raging tide of institutional capture in the higher education sector. If not, our universities will be hollowed out of their essence. They will soon lose their firm leadership in the continent. South Africa will remain with universities that are not what they must be.

Just like we have had the Zondo and Madlanga Commissions, maybe President Ramaphosa will, one day, institute a commission of enquiry into institutional capture in the higher education sector.

I am glad the Minister of Finance has recently outed the NSFAS system, for example, as one form of capture; my words and not his. Does the President need more evidence?

Professor Thandwa Mthembu is Vice-Chancellor & Principal at Durban University of Technology. He writes in his personal capacity and as a proud alumnus of the University of Fort Hare.

©Higher Education Media Services.

As leaders of higher education across the continent convene for the Times Higher Education Africa Universities Summit 2026 in Nairobi, Kenya, a central question will dominate the agenda: how decisively and collaboratively are universities prepared to evolve? Globally, and across Africa, institutions are being called upon to move beyond expanding access, towards delivering meaningful, measurable societal impact. The urgency lies not only transformation itself, but in how swiftly and effectively universities can respond to national and global priorities.

A sector under pressure
Universities in Africa are navigating a convergence of global, regional, and national pressures. Rapid technological advancement, shifting labour markets, socio-economic constraints, limited public funding, and growing student demand are reshaping the higher education landscape. At the same time, persistent inequality, youth unemployment, and uneven development across the continent demand solutions that are both locally relevant and globally competitive.

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In South Africa, these pressures are particularly acute. Universities are expected to expand access while maintaining quality, drive transformation, ensure financial sustainability, and produce graduates equipped for both current and future job markets. The perceived – and at times real – disconnect between graduate output and labour market needs remains one of the most pressing challenges.
Industry leaders consistently highlight gaps in practical skills, digital literacy, and entrepreneurial thinking among graduates. Addressing this mismatch is critical.

Moving beyond access
The solution does not lie solely in building more institutions, widening access, or creating short-term employment opportunities. Rather, it requires the comprehensive transformation of higher learning.

Universities are uniquely positioned to respond. Our core mandate is to equip young people for an evolving world of work, while our academic communities – often comprising globally recognised experts – are able to develop innovative, evidenced-based solutions to complex challenges across agricultural, engineering, health, economics, and society.

However, real impact demands more than isolated initiatives. It requires a deliberate shift towards clearly defined institutional strategies that align teaching and learning, research, and engagement with societal needs. In this context, strategic focus, leadership clarity, and disciplined execution become essential.

The University of the Free State: shaping a responsive future

At the University of the Free State (UFS), our strategic direction is anchored in a clear vision: contributing to what we define as our ‘North Star’ – responsible societal futures. This vision informs a series of focused interventions aimed at strengthening relevance, enhancing student success, and deepening societal impact.

We are reimagining curricula to be more agile, multidisciplinary, interdisciplinary, and transdisciplinary. By embedding work-integrated learning, digital competencies, and entrepreneurship across programmes, we are preparing graduates not only to participate in the economy but to shape it.

At the same time, we are expanding academic offerings in areas of critical importance. From 2026, the introduction of a new engineering qualification in agricultural and biosystems engineering, alongside postgraduate programmes in ecological and nature-based engineering sciences, positions the university at the forefront of addressing continental challenges such as food security, climate resilience, and sustainable infrastructure. Notably, these postgraduate programmes are the first of their kind on the African continent.

The development of a new veterinary science programme and teaching hospital represents a strategic national intervention. As only the second institution in South Africa to offer this qualification, it directly addresses the country’s shortage of veterinary professionals, while strengthening capacity in animal health, food systems, and rural development.

Innovation, sustainability, and institutional agility
Beyond the classroom, universities must play a more active role within innovation ecosystems. At the University of the Free State, initiatives such as our start-up incubator are designed to translate knowledge into practical solutions - supporting entrepreneurship and enabling students and researchers to become job creators. This forms part of a broader institutional strategy to position the university as a catalyst for regional development and economic inclusion.

Operating in a resource-constrained environment, with increasing pressure on state subsidies, is neither sustainable nor viable in the long term. Diversification of income streams is therefore essential. At the University of the Free State, we have set an ambitious target to increase third-stream income by 25% by 2027, while doubling contributions through partnerships and philanthropy. Key initiatives include the VC-ISRC Imbewu Legacy Fund for student support and the Talent Magnet Fund for global academic recruitment.

Underlying these efforts is a commitment to purposeful stewardship: recognising that funds entrusted to universities constitute a public good and must be deployed in service of societal transformation.

Environmental sustainability is also embedded in our institutional practices. Investments in solar energy, greywater utilisation, and rainwater harvesting across our campuses have reduced operational costs while strengthening resilience in the face of unreliable public service provision. These initiatives reflect our responsibility as custodians of scarce natural resources. In parallel, ongoing digital transformation efforts are enabling the creation of a more responsive, student-centred institutional environment.

Partnerships as a catalyst for impact
While universities hold significant potential to address societal challenges, meaningful and sustainable impact depends on strong partnerships. Collaboration with industry and government is essential to unlock resources, enhance relevance, and expand opportunities. By working more closely with industry, universities can co-design curricula, expand work-integrated learning opportunities, and ensure that graduates possess in-demand, future-ready skills.

For universities to thrive in increasingly complex and resource-constrained environments, several imperatives must become non-negotiable: curriculum relevance, embedded entrepreneurship and innovation, purposeful and human-centred digital transformation, and holistic support for student success. Above all, collaboration must replace competition.

The future of African higher education will not be shaped by individual institutions acting in isolation, but by the strength of the collective. At the University of the Free State, we remain committed to strengthening our own institutional trajectory while contributing to a broader continental agenda for transformation and sustainability.

Prof Hester C. Klopper, Vice-Chancellor and Principal, University of the Free State

©Higher Education News Services. This was published on the website www.ednews.africa

South Africa was a country where the law was once codified injustice, and silence was enforced as policy. That’s why today was no small thing for an artist to be conferred an Honorary Doctorate of Laws. It is, in many ways, a rewriting of history.

When Leleti Khumalo stood before Rhodes University to receive this rare honour, it should never be seen as a moment of personal recognition; for us, this moment should be a profound statement about what justice looks like in a society still reckoning with its past.

Perhaps today was an acknowledgement that the lecture rooms are not the only spaces where justice, truth and the law are taught or defended. Sometimes, justice is staged. Sometimes, it is sung or danced. Sometimes, it is embodied in you, and sometimes, it looks like a young girl stepping into the fire of Sarafina!, carrying the defiance of a generation that refused to watch the brutality of an apartheid regime go unchallenged.

Art is testimony, and for too long, the arts have been relegated to the margins of “serious” discourse, as entertainment, as distraction, as something ornamental rather than essential. In South Africa, art has never had the luxury of neutrality. Under apartheid, the law was weaponised. It did not protect us, the black folk; it persecuted us, exiled many, including artists. In that reality, artists became archivists of truth. They documented what the law refused to see. They gave language to pain and brutality that had no legal standing. They made visible what the system sought to conceal.

This is where Leleti Khumalo’s body of work must be understood. It was not only about applause and performances; I understood the story she carried with the entire cast of young artists. In Sarafina!, the stage became their site of protest, a living archive of youth resistance, where songs and movement carried the urgency of a people demanding liberation. It was theatre, it was political education, it was mobilisation, it was memory in motion.

Years later, in Yesterday, Leleti Khumalo would again step into a role that blurred the line between art and advocacy. At a time when HIV/AIDS stigma was pervasive, and silence was literally deadly, Yesterday did something radical: it humanised. It slowed down the conversation. It insisted that behind every statistic was a life, a mother, a woman, a story worthy of dignity.

In both instances, art did what law alone could not; it reached the heart before the mind, shifting perception, unsettling prejudice and creating the emotional conditions necessary for justice to take root.

Law, at its best, is a framework for justice, but law has its limitations, as it operates within language, precedent, and structure. Art, on the other hand, operates within imagination. It stretches beyond what is written into what is felt, what is possible, what is yet to be conceived. This is why, in my view, the intersection between art and law is not incidental; it is essential.

Why? Because before a society can legislate equality, it must first imagine it. Before rights are codified, they must be believed in. Before justice is delivered, it must be desired.

Artists expand their imagination. They challenge the boundaries of who is seen, who is heard, and who is considered worthy of protection. They do not draft legal arguments, but they influence the moral climate in which those arguments are received.

In this way, art becomes a precursor to justice. It prepares the ground; it softens resistance. It creates empathy. And empathy, though often dismissed as soft, is one of the most powerful humane tools we have. Without it, laws remain hollow. With it, they begin to live.

There is something deeply political about the body of an artist, especially a Black South African woman who has lived through the shifting terrains of visibility, expectation, and representation. Leleti Khumalo’s journey, including her openness about living with vitiligo, disrupts dominant narratives of beauty and belonging. In an industry that often demands conformity, her presence has been a quiet, persistent act of elegant resistance. To exist visibly, unapologetically, in a body that defies narrow standards, challenges systems that have long dictated whose stories are valuable and whose are disposable. This, too, is justice work. Because justice is not only about policy, but also about presence, it is about who gets to occupy space without apology.

It is about whose humanity is affirmed, not conditionally, but fully. To speak of Leleti Khumalo solely as an actress would be to diminish the breadth of her contribution. Her work as a mentor, a businesswoman within the artistic ecosystem, and a nurturer of young talent speaks to a broader understanding of what activism looks like.

Activism is sometimes about building platforms where none existed. It is in the quiet investment in young voices, ensuring that the next generation does not have to fight the same battles for visibility and access. It is in creating sustainability in an industry often marked by precarity. This is where the honorary doctorate takes on even deeper meaning. It recognises Leleti Khumalo’s invisible labour, her work in shaping an ecosystem where art can continue to function as a vehicle for justice.

If justice is one pillar of this conversation, peace is the other, and it is often misunderstood. Peace is not merely the absence of violence. It is the presence of dignity. It is the ability to live, to love, to exist without fear of erasure. Art plays a critical role in this. Because before peace can be sustained politically, it must be cultivated culturally. Through the Arts, societies can confront their wounds, process their histories, and imagine reconciliation. Art creates spaces where difficult conversations can happen, not in the adversarial tone of a courtroom, but in the shared vulnerability of human experience.

In post-apartheid South Africa, this work remains unfinished. The fractures are still there, economic inequality, social division, and lingering trauma. And so, the role of the artist remains urgent. Not to provide easy answers, but to continue asking difficult questions.

For an artist to receive an Honorary Doctorate of Laws is to challenge the hierarchy of knowledge itself. It asks: what counts as expertise? Who gets to shape the discourse on justice? Whose contributions are deemed worthy of academic recognition?

In honouring Leleti Khumalo, Rhodes University is making a bold statement: lived experience, cultural production, and storytelling are not peripheral to justice; they are central to it. It is an invitation to reimagine the relationship among institutions, communities, academia, artistry, law and life. It is, in essence, a call to decolonise our understanding of knowledge.

The significance of this moment extends beyond the ceremony. It is a challenge for institutions, for artists, for society at large.

To the institutions, I say expand your definitions of scholarship. Recognise the intellectual labour embedded in creative work. Honour those who shape society not only through theory, but through practice.

To the Artists, do not underestimate the power of your work. You are not just entertainers. You are historians, provocateurs, healers, and architects of imagination.

And to society, please listen! Listen to the stories being told. Engage with them. Allow them to unsettle you, to move you, to change you. Justice can never be a destination; it is an ongoing process. And in that process, art should not be optional. Essentially, in the end, what Leleti Khumalo’s recognition represents is a simple but radical truth. It requires an artist, standing at the intersection of truth and imagination, reminding us of who we are, and who we still have the power to become.

©Higher Education Media Services.

South Africa’s universities have perfected the art of self‑presentation. They speak fluently about excellence, transformation, and world‑class governance.

They produce polished strategies and immaculate annual reports. But the recent parliamentary engagement on the University of Pretoria’s governance, administration and related matters cuts through this carefully curated image. It reveals a sector increasingly out of touch with its own people — and increasingly unable to hide it.

The Portfolio Committee on Higher Education did not call UP to Parliament for a routine update. The meeting on 18 March saw four separate submissions — from labour, from staff, from the Institutional Forum, and from the university itself — an unusually heavy dossier for a single institution. This alone signals that something deeper is wrong. When staff and labour formations feel compelled to take their concerns to lawmakers, it is not a sign of healthy governance. It is a sign of institutional failure. And Parliament has taken notice.

The myth of “robust governance” is collapsing

Universities often defend themselves with policy language. They point to committees, frameworks, and transformation plans as evidence of progress. But the documents tabled before the committee — especially the “Lived Realities” presentation — expose the limits of this defence. Governance cannot be measured by laminated frameworks. It must be measured by lived experience.

If staff feel unheard, overburdened, or marginalised, then governance is failing, regardless of how many policies exist. The very existence of a “Lived Realities” submission suggests that internal mechanisms for redress have lost credibility. It also signals a shift in how Parliament understands accountability: experiential evidence now matters as much as compliance.

This is a profound — and overdue — recalibration.

A rare moment of political convergence

The committee members present spanned the ANC, DA, EFF and MKP. In a political climate defined by division, this kind of cross‑party scrutiny is remarkable. When parties that agree on almost nothing agree that a university’s governance requires intervention, the message is unmistakable: the sector’s credibility is eroding across the political spectrum.

For years, universities have relied on their prestige to shield them from tough questions. That era is ending. Parliament is no longer impressed by reputation. It wants accountability. But the very fact that Parliament is interrogating governance, labour relations, and institutional culture simultaneously suggests that the university’s challenges are neither isolated nor superficial.

UP is a mirror — and the reflection is uncomfortable

This is not just about one institution. UP is a bellwether. Its governance tensions reflect broader systemic issues:

• Transformation fatigue disguised as transformation progress

• Labour precarity masked by managerial language

• Institutional cultures that remain hierarchical and brittle

• Leadership structures that hear dissent only when it becomes a crisis

The parliamentary engagement exposes a sector that is increasingly defensive, increasingly opaque, and increasingly disconnected from the people who make universities function.

A leadership model past its expiry date

South African universities are still governed as if they are elite enclaves rather than public institutions accountable to the nation. They cling to outdated hierarchies, centralised decision‑making, and a managerial culture that treats staff as obstacles rather than partners.

This model is collapsing under its own weight.

Parliament’s intervention is not an anomaly. It is a symptom of a governance architecture that has failed to evolve.

What must change — now

If universities want to avoid more parliamentary interrogations, they must embrace a new governance ethic:

• Radical transparency — stop hiding behind policy language.

• Human‑centred leadership — governance must be lived, not laminated.

• Labour as a strategic partner — not an adversary.

• Courage over defensiveness — criticism is a diagnostic, not a threat.

The stakes are national

Universities are not private fiefdoms. They are public institutions entrusted with shaping South Africa’s intellectual and democratic future. When governance falters, the consequences ripple far beyond campus gates.

The UP engagement is a warning shot — not just to one university, but to an entire sector that has grown too comfortable with its own mythology.

Parliament is watching. The public is watching. And the era of unchallenged institutional exceptionalism is over.

©Higher Education Media Services.

Since the early 1990s, forty-six (46) largely politically connected individuals secured 60% of all the black economic empowerment (BEE) mining, becoming billionaires or multimillionaires overnight.

This is according to a 2015 research report completed for the Chamber of Mines. The report was not publicly released but compiled as a background document for the Chamber’s mining charter discussions.

Peter Major, a respected mining analyst, said that, based on broader industry data, a combination of the Mineral Resources Department’s incompetence, deteriorating state infrastructure, corruption, nationalisation threats, and mining-value-destroying BEE strategies has cost South Africa over 500,000 mining jobs. The Bureau for Economic Research, using narrower government data, shows there has been a loss of over 300,000 mining jobs since the early 1990s.

BEE has taken many different forms. In the private sector, it involves transferring shares in white-owned private companies to previously disadvantaged individuals. In the public sector, national, provincial, and municipal governments, as well as state-owned entities, require white firms contracting with the state to have BEE shareholding. In the immediate post-1994 privatisation of state-owned companies, BEE was a key requirement for share sales.

The reality is, the former majority ANC government’s BEE strategies have largely benefited a small group of well-connected black and white individuals, whether ANC leaders or ANC-aligned trade union leaders or companies, trusts and entities linked to them. Intermediaries, whether law firms, transaction brokers, or financiers structuring BEE deals, have also benefited richly. Some ‘white’ owned companies have also benefited from striking repeat BEE deals with the same politically connected black BEE partners.

Of course, there have been broad-based empowerment transactions in which ordinary employees received shares. However, often, even in such transactions, particular connected leading individuals would often receive the bulk of the BEE benefits.

Even when BEE deals successfully transfer shares to individuals from previously disadvantaged communities who are not politically connected, these deals are rarely financially rewarding. BEE shares are often locked for years; shareholders do not receive dividends, and when they do, the dividends are heavily taxed. Nevertheless, providing capital for shares rather than productive assets is a loss to the economy.

In 2000, BEE rules were introduced for public procurement. South Africa now spends almost R1 trillion on public procurement annually, accounting for 12% of GDP. Significant volumes of this are BEE spent.

Testifying at the Zondo Commission, National Treasury’s then-acting Chief Procurement Officer, Willie Mathebula, said, for example, that in the 2017 financial year, the national procurement bill was R800 billion. Mathebula told the Zondo Commission that more than 50% of the government’s annual procurement budget was lost due to “intentional abuse of the system”, which included manipulation of BEE rules for personal benefit. Of course, incompetence, mismanagement, and corruption are also responsible for the losses.

State entities, such as the Public Investment Corporation, provide significant BEE funding. The PIC, in its 2023-2026 corporate plan, envisaged allocating over 70% of its approved funds to BEE Managers. One of the PIC’s funds, its Isibaya Fund, with over R170bn, holds unlisted investments and funds BEE investments, such as Daybreak Foods, in which the PIC has invested at least R1.7 billion since 2015. Finance Minister Enoch Godongwana last year announced a new enquiry into allegations of misconduct in the PIC’s unlisted funds.

In the 2005 privatisation of Telkom, the Elephant BEE consortium acquired an estimated R9-billion stake in Telkom. Key figures in the Elephant Consortium, led by politically connected individuals such as former Communications Department Director-General Andile Ngcaba and former head of the ANC Presidency Smuts Ngonyama, pocketed more than R3 billion from the sale of its BEE shares in Telkom and Vodacom, and another R1.4 billion in dividends.

In the public sector, state capture has often happened through BEE. Evidence presented to the Zondo Commission reported that the Gupta-connected companies secured over R57bn in the state BEE deals.

State-owned infrastructure entities, such as Eskom and Transnet, were key sites of state capture, which happened through BEE, public procurement, and cadre deployments.

In one example, Hitachi Power Africa, in which the ANC’s investment arm, Chancellor House, owned 25%, secured around R38bn to build boilers for the Medupi and Kusile power stations. The ever-rising costs of building the two stations increased Eskom’s debt from R40bn in 2007 to over R400bn in 2024. The fiscus has bailed out Eskom to the tune of close to half a trillion rand between 2008 and 2026.

The South African Reserve Bank said that Eskom’s load-shedding, resulting from failures linked to patronage, BEE, and cadre deployment, and compounded by mismanagement and corruption, costs the South African economy R1bn a day.

The failure of South Africa’s state rail and port entity, Transnet, in 2023 cost the economy R353bn, equivalent to 4.9% of GDP. Transnet’s failure is estimated to cost South Africa’s economy around R1 billion per day in lost economic output.

Swifambo Rail Leasing was established as a BEE company specifically to serve as a local front for the Spanish railway company Vossloh Espana, to secure the 2012 Prasa contract worth R3.5 billion for the supply of locomotives.

Corruption, mismanagement, and the manipulation of BEE contracts are key reasons for South Africa’s water crisis. As a case in point, tenderpreneur Edwin Sodi’s Blackhead Consulting has been fingered in irregular BEE contracts amounting to more than R4 billion. It received a contract to upgrade the Rooiwal wastewater in Tshwane in 2023, but failed to do the work, which contributed to a deadly cholera outbreak in 2023 that killed 29 people.

Manipulation of BEE has also been a key reason for the lack of service delivery in the health sector. At Tembisa Hospital, BEE tenderpreneurs secured R4bn in contracts corruptly and delivered very little.

If BEE was supposedly successful, it has been a success for the few, not a broad-based success, as it was intended to do.

BEE that involves giving shareholdings in existing companies to black political capitalists does not expand the economy but rather reinforces the concentration of the South African economy.

BEE political capitalists who set up companies to get a specific government tender, even if they have no experience, capacity or finances to do so, are partially responsible for endemic public service delivery failures.

BEE, which has focused on giving slices of white companies to politically connected non-whites, has collapsed both black and white legitimate businesses that are not politically connected, who have lost out on new or existing contracts as instant political capitalist companies take their state contracts or licences. It has stifled black entrepreneurship.

It has created a culture of using political connectedness, rather than merit or ability to generate wealth or entrepreneurship. It has encouraged the proliferation of middlemen and women who serve as connectors for government and private-sector deals.

It has fostered a South African societal culture in which hard work and entrepreneurship are not valued, because all one needs is connections to the ANC and its leaders to secure government contracts or BEE shareholdings in private companies. No society can foster economic growth, tackle poverty, and reduce unemployment without a merit-based culture in which hard work and entrepreneurship are valued. It has decimated the productive capacity of the South African economy. It has accelerated the de-industrialisation of South Africa’s economy.

In the past, there were wide inequalities between whites and non-white South Africans. Now, we also have large inequality discrepancies between rich non-whites and poor non-whites.

Effective empowerment strategies in successful countries have historically focused on supporting existing entrepreneurs, not turning politicians into entrepreneurs, creating new industries that a country did not have before, and developing manufactured products for export to foreign markets, fostering export-led growth.

The opportunity costs, the massive development benefits lost if more broad-based alternative empowerment strategies were used in the current BEE model, are too high, given high black unemployment, poverty, and inequalities.

The current model of BEE is a perfect example of the misallocation of capital – whether shares for ordinary black public, or for ANC-connected BEE oligarchs, that could have generated a bigger societal development impact, by investing it in public infrastructure, world-class education, technology, SMEs or assets, such as homes for the poor.

Prof. William Gumede is Associate Professor, School of Governance, University of the Witwatersrand, and author of South Africa in BRICS (Tafelberg).

This is an edited version of his speech “Remodelling Black Economic Empowerment” to the Black Management Forum on 17 March 2026.

©Higher Education Media Services.

As South Africa continues to grapple with corruption, governance failures, and declining public trust in institutions, the question of ethical leadership has become increasingly urgent.

For universities that prepare the country’s future leaders, the challenge is not only to teach ethics as a concept but to cultivate leaders who practise integrity, accountability, and transparency in their decisions.

These issues formed the focus of a guest lecture presented to students at the University of the Free State (UFS) Business School by Dr Mathews Phosa, an attorney, former Premier of Mpumalanga, and former Treasurer General of the African National Congress.

Drawing on decades of experience in politics and public life, Dr Phosa reflected candidly on the state of leadership in South Africa and urged students to see ethical leadership as central to rebuilding public trust and strengthening democracy.

Ethical leadership in a time of national reflection

Dr Phosa warned that South Africa is facing a serious erosion of ethical governance, noting that growing perceptions of corruption and weak accountability threaten both democracy and public confidence.

“There are very serious red lights flashing for our government and our democracy because of growing perceptions that we have lost our way as far as ethical government is concerned,” he said.

He argued that corruption should never be tolerated, regardless of political position or influence. “A person that steals from public funds is a thief, irrespective of his or her political position or high-level connections.”

Reflecting on the gap between political promises and the lived experiences of many South Africans, Dr Phosa called for greater honesty from those entrusted with leadership.

“We have not been truthful when we promised that we will work tirelessly for a better life for all. Our track record in this regard is poor, and we should be ashamed.”

He also outlined several measures that could help strengthen ethical governance and restore public confidence in leadership. “Give teeth to existing prosecution agencies and establish special courts tasked only with corruption.”

Emphasising the importance of personal integrity in leadership, he encouraged students to adopt a values-driven approach in their future careers. “Be ethical leaders and practise servant leadership. Leadership must serve the people.”

He also stressed the role of universities in shaping leaders capable of making principled decisions in complex environments. “Universities must equip students to lead with integrity, transparency, and accountability.”

Prof Philippe Burger, Dean of the Faculty of Economic and Management Sciences, said the discussion reflects the growing need to strengthen ethical leadership in both the public and private sectors.

Prof Burger noted that recurring commissions of inquiry and corruption scandals demonstrate the importance of reinforcing ethical behaviour through education.

“Ethics is not something you simply study. It is something you are and something you live,” he said, adding that the faculty aims to ensure that students understand ethical leadership as a practical responsibility. “Students should not only learn ethical leadership in theory. It must become part of the DNA of how they lead and build sustainable businesses.”

Kabelo Motsoari, a Master of Business Administration student at the Business School, said the lecture stood out for its direct and honest reflection on the country’s leadership challenges.

“Dr Phosa did not beat around the bush about the realities facing South Africa. He spoke openly about issues many leaders avoid.”

Motsoari said the discussion also reinforced the importance of personal accountability in ethical decision-making. “If something does not feel right, do not do it. Being honest with yourself is where ethical leadership begins.”

©Higher Education Media Services.

When I stepped into the business world at nineteen fresh from the shadows of apartheid, filled with dreams yet surrounded by doubt I never imagined how much my journey would come to represent hope for others. My life has been shaped by resilience, courage, and the belief that inclusion is not only possible but essential.

Today, when I reflect on South Africa and Africa’s progress toward gender equality, I see my own story as part of a much larger movement of change.

Awakening in a Divided Nation

My earliest steps as an entrepreneur took place in a country still scarred by apartheid. Communities were divided by race, and voices especially those of women were often dismissed. In boardrooms, the unspoken rule was clear: men led, women followed. The weight of history and culture meant that women had to fight twice as hard to be heard.

Yet even in those difficult years, I recognised something powerful. South Africa’s diversity its languages, traditions, and heritage were not a weakness but our greatest source of strength. That realisation inspired me to challenge stereotypes and create platforms where every person, regardless of gender or background, could be valued.

Choosing to Rise, Repeatedly

I recall my first business meeting vividly. Surrounded by confident voices, I was overlooked, underestimated, and treated as though I had little to offer. It would have been easy to retreat into silence. Instead, I chose to speak. That decision to use my voice when it was most inconvenient was the first of many quiet acts of resistance.

The path was not smooth. Opportunities were lost. Contracts were denied. My abilities were often judged long before I had a chance to prove them. But resilience is not about avoiding failure; it is about rising differently each time. Each setback sharpened my determination and taught me to lead with compassion and respect. Over time, I learned that true influence lies not in power, but in building relationships that uplift others.

Turning Struggles into Solutions

As my career grew, so did my vision for change. I refused to accept workplaces where women were silenced or undervalued. I intentionally built teams that reflected the richness of our nation, knowing that true innovation comes from diversity of thought.

This commitment led me to establish Celebrating Humanity International Pty Ltd, dedicated to advancing Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion (DEI). Through this platform, I worked with organisations to break cultural barriers, build trust, and create environments where people could thrive. For me, DEI was never about ticking boxes it was about restoring dignity and unlocking potential.

But inclusion cannot stand alone without leadership rooted in values. To create sustainable impact, I founded Ki Leadership Institute Pty Ltd, designed to instil Values-Based Leadership. This approach nurtures leaders who act with integrity, compassion, and accountability leaders who ensure that equity becomes a lived reality, not just a distant ideal.

Signs of Change Across Africa

My journey has taken me across Africa, where I’ve witnessed both challenges and progress. In villages and cities, I have met extraordinary women and men determined to break barriers. Rural entrepreneurs especially in Agriculture, are defying tradition to build businesses, while young women in urban centres are leading innovation with courage and creativity.

These stories, like mine, remind us that Africa is changing. The movement toward gender equality may be uneven, but the trajectory is clear: more women are claiming their rightful place at the table, and more communities are recognising the value of inclusive leadership.

A Journey of Hope

Looking back at that nineteen-year-old girl, I feel immense gratitude. What began as a personal fight to be heard has become a lifelong mission to ensure that others do not face the same silence. I have learned that true leadership is not about walking through open doors alone, but about holding them wide for others.

The gender dilemma in South Africa and Africa remains real, but it is no longer insurmountable. Through the efforts of individuals, organisations, and movements committed to change, we are witnessing progress. My journey is proof that resilience and compassion can create ripples of hope that spread far beyond one person’s story.

Together, we can continue to reshape the trajectory of our continent one voice, one leader, and one act of courage at a time.

Dr Arthie Moore-Robberts is a seasoned Entrepreneur & Founder of Celebrating Humanity International Pty Ltd and Ki Leadership International Pty Ltd, operating nationally and internationally for over 24 years.

There is a dangerous silence, slowly creeping into our classrooms. Across many education systems, history is increasingly treated as optional, as a subject pushed aside in favour of mathematics, science, and technology. In doing so, don’t we risk producing generations who can code machines, but who do not understand the struggles, sacrifices, and courage that shaped the societies they live in?

History is not just about memorising dates, deaths, or distant wars. It is about identity. It is about moral memory. It is about understanding how ordinary people, often under extraordinary oppression, yet found the courage to resist injustice.

Few stories illustrate this more powerfully than that of Nehanda Charwe Nyakasikana, a woman whose courage continues to echo across Africa’s liberation history.

Born around 1862 in what is now known as Zimbabwe, Nehanda was a revered svikiro, or spirit medium of the Zezuru Shona people. During the late 19th century, when the British South Africa Company began imposing colonial rule across the region, seizing land and dismantling indigenous systems of governance, Nehanda emerged as a powerful voice of resistance.

Her influence was not rooted in political office or military command. It came from something deeper, spiritual authority and moral conviction. She mobilised communities to resist colonial domination during the First Chimurenga uprising

Colonial authorities eventually crushed the rebellion. Nehanda was captured and accused of involvement in the killing of a colonial official. In 1898, she was tried by the colonial court in Salisbury, now Harare, and sentenced to death.

At the age of about sixty, Nehanda walked to the gallows with extraordinary dignity. Missionaries reportedly urged her to renounce her beliefs before her execution, but she refused. Before she was hanged on April 27, 1898, she is said to have declared words that would become prophetic for generations of liberation fighters, “Mapfupa angu achamuka”, meaning My bones shall rise again!

Decades later, as Zimbabwe’s independence movement gathered momentum, her words became a rallying cry, a symbol of spiritual resistance and national awakening.

But the story of Nehanda is about more than Zimbabwe. It speaks to a broader truth that history books too often overlook women have always been architects of social transformation. From spiritual leaders to organisers of resistance movements, women have stood at the moral centre of struggles for justice. Yet their stories are frequently marginalised, simplified, or omitted altogether.

When we fail to teach these histories in our schools, we do more than neglect the past. We deny young people the opportunity to see courage in all its forms. Students deserve to know that resistance is not always loud. Sometimes it is carried in the quiet resolve of a woman who refuses to bow before an empire.

Teaching history also serves another vital purpose: it protects societies from repeating their worst mistakes. Colonialism, racism, exploitation, and oppression did not simply disappear with time. They were challenged and dismantled through sacrifice and struggle.

Without historical understanding, freedom begins to look inevitable rather than hard-won. And when freedom is taken for granted, it becomes dangerously fragile.

Our classrooms should therefore not only teach the names of presidents and generals. They should teach the names of women like Nehanda, women who held communities together when institutions collapsed, who inspired courage when fear threatened to silence a people.

History is not a luxury subject. It is civic education. It is ethical training. It is the foundation of democratic consciousness. A society that forgets its history risks losing its soul.

When young people no longer know the stories of those who resisted injustice before them, they may struggle to recognise injustice when it appears again.

The lesson from Nehanda’s life is clear: courage can emerge from unexpected places, and the voices that shape history are not always those who sit in palaces or parliaments. Sometimes they are our grandmothers. Sometimes they are healers. Sometimes they are women standing quietly at the centre of a people’s struggle, reminding a nation that dignity is worth defending.

Imagine what Africa would look like today. If every woman who organised resistance, preserved culture, sheltered freedom fighters or inspired communities had been written into the national narrative with the same weight and recognition as men?

What if the archives had listened more carefully to the voices of grandmothers, spirit mediums, organisers and mothers of revolutions? What if every heroine who shaped the moral backbone of a nation had been recorded truthfully, factually and unapologetically?

Perhaps the Africa we imagine would be a continent that understands its own strength more clearly, recognising that its foundations were not built by a few celebrated figures, but by generations of courageous women and men whose names history must remember. A history where every heroine is visible. A history where truth is restored. A history where the full story of a nation is finally told.

If we want future generations to understand the price of freedom, we must ensure that these stories are not forgotten. For when a nation forgets its heroines, it begins to forget itself.

Cathay Yenana is a South African media professional, radio personality, and social activist whose work spans women’s rights, media representation, and youth advocacy.

©Higher Education Media Services.

The controversy surrounding Professor Srila Roy’s remarks and her subsequent resignation at the University of the Witwatersrand (Wits) raises difficult questions about the boundaries, responsibilities and lived realities of academic freedom in South Africa’s charged sociopolitical environment.

At the centre of the debate is whether universities are now compelled to tighten policies governing social media use, ethical obligations and public commentary by academic staff – and what this would mean for free inquiry and public debate.

The Roy saga is not merely about what could be perceived as one academic’s ill-judged tweet. It is about how universities respond to controversial speech, who is sanctioned and why and whether institutional values are increasingly supplanting academic freedom as the final arbiter of acceptable expression.

What is academic freedom?

Academic freedom is a foundational principle of higher education. It safeguards scholars’ and students’ ability to teach, learn, debate, research and engage in public ­discourse without fear of censorship, punishment or political interference.

It underpins critical thinking, innovation and democratic engagement.

However, academic freedom is not absolute.

It does not shield hate speech, racism, discrimination, harassment or unethical professional conduct. Nor does it protect speech that breaches the law or undermines the dignity of individuals or groups. In short, academic freedom protects scholarly expression—not harmful conduct.

The difficulty lies in determining where that line is drawn, who draws it and whether the consequences are proportionate.

What the Roy case signals

The handling of Roy’s case suggests that academic freedom remains protected in principle but increasingly conditional in practice. Speech deemed discriminatory is excluded from protection, even when expressed in a personal capacity on social media.

Academics are expected to balance freedom of expression with ethical responsibility, while institutional values and transformation imperatives increasingly define what is acceptable.

Social media has fundamentally complicated academic freedom. It blurs the boundary between the personal and the professional, amplifying statements beyond their original intent and exposing academics to immediate public and political backlash.

Universities now treat an academic’s online presence as inseparable from their institutional identity.

This raises uncomfortable questions. Can difficult or unpopular ideas still be expressed without fear of sanction? Are universities fostering genuine debate or enforcing ideological conformity through codes of conduct?

The 2020 University of Cape Town controversy surrounding Professor Nicoli Nattrass’s paper—criticised by UCT’s executive as offensive despite being peer-reviewed and published—illustrates that this tension is not new. But the Roy case shows that the stakes are now higher and the consequences more severe.

Who is Roy and what did she say?

Roy is an internationally recognised scholar in feminism, gender, sexuality and social movements, with a distinguished publication record and global academic standing. She served as Professor of Sociology and Head of Department at Wits and has received multiple prestigious international awards.

On 19 February, she posted on X (formerly Twitter): “South Africans have little ambition, are complacent and have a poor work ethic.” Although she deleted the post shortly afterwards, screenshots circulated widely, triggering intense institutional, professional and political condemnation.

The statement was seen as a sweeping generalisation, offered without evidence and entirely detached from scholarly method. It could be seen as insensitive and arguably reckless, particularly in a country with deep historical inequalities and ongoing social tensions.

The consequences

The fallout was swift and severe. Roy resigned from the post of Head of the Sociology Department at the department’s request.

Wits placed her on precautionary suspension pending an internal investigation into allegations of racism, discrimination and conduct undermining university values.

Professional bodies escalated the matter. The South African Sociological Association condemned her remarks as racist, classist and xenophobic, called for her suspension from a local organising committee and said it would reconsider her membership.

Political condemnation followed. Parliament’s Portfolio Committee on Higher Education described the remarks as “deeply offensive, insulting and unacceptable” and urged Wits to act urgently.

In effect, Roy lost her leadership position, faced suspension and disciplinary proceedings, was publicly censured by professional bodies and suffered reputational damage with potentially lasting consequences. In some way, this resembled mob justice before apartheid — substance eclipsed by symbolism, punishment overtaking proportionality.

Why academic freedom still matters

Academic freedom exists to protect precisely the kind of inquiry and debate that makes society uncomfortable. Universities are meant to be spaces for independent thought, where ideas can be tested, challenged and refined, not suppressed by fear of sanction.

In South Africa, academic freedom is shaped by constitutional values, transformation imperatives and a commitment to anti-racism. This context matters.

Historically, knowledge production was used to exclude and oppress and universities cannot remain indifferent to that legacy.

Yet the danger lies in allowing institutional values to entirely override free inquiry. If academics fear that expressing unpopular or poorly framed ideas will end their careers, silence becomes the rational choice. That silence impoverishes public discourse and leaves policy debates to lawmakers — whose record, frankly, inspires little confidence.

Double standards and political hypocrisy

The irony of the Roy saga is impossible to ignore. Her comments followed the Portfolio Committee on Higher Education and Training’s own troubling rhetoric, warning universities and TVET colleges against employing foreign nationals outside scarce-skills categories and emphasising “South Africans first”.

These framing fuels xenophobic sentiment, particularly toward African academics working in South Africa.

The data shows that foreign nationals constitute a small minority of staff in universities and TVET colleges, yet politicians face no comparable scrutiny or sanction for promoting exclusionary narratives.

Roy was castigated for a personal, ill-considered generalisation. Meanwhile, lawmakers openly calling for job reservation and implicitly endorsing xenophobia continue unchallenged.

The contrast raises questions about power, accountability and who is allowed to offend with impunity.

Was she racist?

Roy’s remarks were insensitive, crass and analytically indefensible—but whether they meet the legal or constitutional threshold of racism is not self-evident. Throwing the race card at her reflects immaturity prevalent in society.

That determination is better suited to bodies such as the South African Human Rights Commission than to social media outrage or political pressure.

There is also an uncomfortable truth that complicates the narrative. Many South Africans experience poor service delivery, inefficiency, and corruption daily—from municipalities to public hospitals to traffic policing.

Critiquing work ethic in specific institutional contexts is not inherently racist. Roy’s error was collapsing complex structural failures into a sweeping national character judgment.

Where this leaves academic freedom

The lesson from the Roy case is not that academics should be free from consequences but that consequences must be proportionate, principled and consistent. Universities need clear, fair social media guidelines that protect against genuine harm without stifling debate.

As Wits itself has stated, speaking in a “personal capacity” does not exempt staff from anti-discrimination policies.

But academic freedom cannot survive if it is reduced to institutional risk management or ideological policing.

An academic’s social media presence may be inseparable from their institutional identity but academic freedom must still protect the right to err, to provoke and to engage critically — without career-ending retribution.

Roy’s contribution to this debate, despite being controversial, should prompt universities to clarify boundaries rather than entrench fear. Otherwise, academic freedom will wither — not through censorship, but through silence.

Edwin Naidu heads Higher Education Media Services, a media start-up, publishing www.ednews.africa – ©Higher Education Media Services

This was published on Mail & Guardian.

In 2025, the World Economic Forum reported that it would take 2,158 years to achieve Planet 50/50, which was described as a gender-equal planet. A year later, and that statistic remains relatively unchanged, except there is one critical element that has escaped sustained scrutiny, even as it steadily transforms the future of work and could either shorten or prolong the projected 133-year wait for gender equality.

That element is the rapid, growing integration of Artificial Intelligence and technology in the workplace.

Comparative data indicate that in 2025, 78% of global companies had incorporated AI into at least one business function. In January 2026, this percentage rose to 91%, indicating a 17% increase in AI adoption across at least one business function within organisations worldwide. At this rate, it is expected that by 2027, 75% of all organisations worldwide will incorporate AI in most of their business operations.

This rapid digitisation has forced scholars in gender studies to deliberate on a crucial question. As Artificial Intelligence reshapes our workplaces, will it widen gender inequality, or will it create new pathways to achieving a gender-equal workplace?

With the theme for the 2026 International Women’s Day being “Give to Gain”, the question that arises is, “What power, inclusion and accountability must be given in shaping AI systems in the workplace and what could we gain for gender equality in return?”

At face value, many may see the introduction of AI into professions as nothing more than a technological innovation. However, its integration in the employment sector has profound socio-technical implications, as it shapes and interacts with existing social structures, norms and inequalities in the workplace.

These existing social structures, norms and inequalities have, for a long time, oppressed women and contributed to the lack of gender equality in many professions, especially at strategic and leadership levels. The intersection of gender and AI represents a striking contrast for gender equality.

This intersection could symbolise extraordinary promise or an additional threat. AI within professions holds the potential to become a powerful tool for gender equality, empowering women through expanding access to education, improving women’s participation in the workforce and increasing economic opportunity. However, if it is designed and adopted without specific attention to gender dynamics, AI will simply reproduce historical gender inequalities, embedding them more deeply into the new systems that will become woven into the future. The outcome we are faced with is a result of the choice we make now.

To establish AI as a catalyst for gender equality, we need to ensure that we design, apply, and govern AI in ways that dismantle inequality and gender bias rather than automate it.

As we approach International Women’s Day, we advocate for equal rights and justice for women and girls worldwide. This forces us to ask, if we are to “Give to Gain”, what must we give women in shaping AI in the workplace, and what might we gain in return?

Statistics on the gender composition of AI employees worldwide indicate that women are grossly underrepresented in this field, comprising only 22% of AI professionals and holding less than 14% of senior positions in AI. But why is this important, and what are the implications of female underrepresentation in the AI sector?

AI systems are a product of the questions developers ask, the issues they prioritise, and the datasets they use to train them. When there is a lack of gender parity in teams responsible for the design, application, and governance of AI, the systems produced are shaped by narrow perspectives, leading to a lack of representation of women’s experiences and to systems trained on historically biased datasets. This bias becomes embedded in technology and AI systems, which are scaled across institutions and societies.

However, when women are given authority and influence over the design and application of AI systems, their representation transforms from tokenism to meaningful power. Their voices and experiences become embedded in these systems, increasing the likelihood that gender bias is identified and corrected and that diverse realities are recognised, resulting in more accountable, inclusive, and legitimate systems.

In this regard, giving women representation, influence, and authority in AI system design and implementation is not just a concession; it is an act of fairness. It allows us to renegotiate whose stories are heard and legitimised and whose intelligence shapes our future.

Giving women equal representation and influence in AI governance and oversight is critical to ensure accountable and ethical AI systems. While governance dictates who sets the rules and whose values guide the adoption of AI systems, oversight ensures that these systems are implemented in a fair, ethical and transparent manner. Ensuring women are represented in these spaces provides avenues for redress and increases the possibility that inequality and bias are identified and addressed before they are legitimised in institutions and societies. This creates accountable and ethical AI systems that dismantle inequality.

The reality is that AI is here to stay. It is not on the verge of being embedded within professions; it already is. The burning question is: will we allow it to reproduce existing inequalities, or will we redirect and reshape its influence on gender equality? If we advocate for and strive to ensure women have equal authority and influence in the development, deployment, governance, and oversight of AI systems, we will be able to harness AI as a powerful engine for change.

The GAP project on Gender and AI in professions, which I am currently working on, confronts this reality directly, investigating how AI is reshaping professional spaces and asking a very pertinent question: “How can we ensure that this transformation advances rather than undermines gender equality?”

On this international women’s day under the banner “Give to Gain” the message is clear. If we give women equal authority, influence and representation in shaping AI, we not only gain more inclusive systems but fairer professions. In doing so, we may shorten the fight for gender inequality and move a step closer to fair and just workspaces.

Prof Daphne Pillay-Naidoo is an Associate Professor of Industrial Psychology in the Department of Human Resource Management at the University of Pretoria.

The opinions expressed in this article are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the University of Pretoria.

Edwin Naidu

The Budget once again highlights the challenges South Africa faces in ensuring that funds allocated for skills development are used solely for that purpose.

It is easy to bandy about claims that large portions of South Africa’s skills development funding have been “lost to corruption”, but this requires careful qualification.

Unfortunately, the Auditor-General of South Africa (AGSA) does not publish a single consolidated figure quantifying the number of skills-development monies written off as corruption. Instead, AGSA reports focus on irregular, fruitless and wasteful expenditure, as well as material irregularities, across public entities, including Sector Education and Training Authorities (SETAs).

A glance at media reports over the past year provides plenty of anecdotal evidence suggesting that the annual amount of more than R80 billion on skills development does not reach its intended beneficiaries.

In the most recent audit cycles, the Auditor-General has repeatedly flagged serious governance failures within several SETAs, including non-compliance with procurement rules, weak contract management, and payments made without adequate evidence of value received.

These findings indicate heightened risk exposure and poor stewardship of public funds, but irregular expenditure is not automatically classified as corruption, nor does it necessarily mean that funds have been permanently lost. In many cases, matters remain under investigation or subject to recovery processes.

Importantly, the AG has reported recoveries of public funds using its expanded remedial powers, including recoveries linked to SETA-related contracts where payments were made contrary to Treasury regulations. These recoveries demonstrate that, while significant amounts have been mismanaged, not all irregular expenditure has been written off, and accountability mechanisms are increasingly being applied.

By contrast, estimates frequently cited in public debate—most notably the claim that approximately R21 billion in skills funding is wasted annually—originate from civil society organisations, such as the Organisation Undoing Tax Abuse (OUTA), without whom no one would have held government accountable.

These figures are based on advocacy analysis and long-term patterns of underperformance and adverse audit outcomes, not on quantified write-offs confirmed by the Auditor-General. While such estimates highlight the scale of concern around value for money in the skills system, they should not be conflated with AGSA audit findings.

The distinction matters. The Auditor-General’s work identifies audit risk, non-compliance, and governance failures, while organisations such as OUTA argue that the cumulative effect of these failures amounts to systemic waste. Both perspectives point to a deeply troubled skillsdevelopment ecosystem, but they rest on different evidentiary bases.

What is beyond dispute is that persistent adverse audit findings, limited consequence management, and repeated leadership failures within parts of the SETA system have undermined confidence in how skills development levies are used. Until accountability is enforced consistently and poor performance is met with decisive action, the gap between funds collected and meaningful skills outcomes is likely to continue.

President Cyril Ramaphosa demands a skills revolution to drive economic growth, hoping it will allow him to close the curtain on his presidency with tangible success. Ironically, Ramaphosa was once ahead of his time in innovation.

In July 2019, he became the first South African president to address guests via hologram at the Digital Economy Summit in Midrand. For a leader often accused of being stuck in the mud, it was a glimpse of the future, which never came. Few would dispute that it has largely been downhill since. The president’s long-promised reboot has never arrived.

With skills development a buzzword in Finance Minister Enoch Godongwana’s Budget speech, it was fitting that one of the few genuine success stories in the sector recently borrowed from the president’s hologram playbook.

Yershen Pillay, the charismatic chief executive of the Chemical Industries Education and Training Authority (CHIETA), insists innovation is not a slogan but a way of operating. On 13 February, Pillay delivered opening remarks to his stakeholders via hologram, modelling what future-ready leadership can look like in practice.

Under his leadership, CHIETA has built tech-savvy Smart Centres in rural areas across all nine provinces. More than 60,000 people have already passed through these centres. That is an impact you cannot deny—and precisely what all SETAs should be striving for.

Having interviewed many SETA heads over the years, it would be dishonest to suggest that all is well. CHIETA is one of 21 authorities, one of the few doing an effective job. Only a handful are doing a genuinely good job. Not all can boast clean audits year after year. Yet even where problems predated Pillay’s tenure, the glory days did not stop.

If any other SETA is achieving comparable impact—changing lives through innovation at scale—they are doing a poor job of telling that story. Or worse, they are spending public money unwisely to do so. Unfortunately, the broader narrative around skills development bears little resemblance to CHIETA’s experience. Beyond a sprinkling of good, the picture is bleak.

By his own admission, Godongwana told Parliament that levy income is projected to reach R88.2 billion over the 2026 medium-term expenditure framework. Yet he conceded that many of the institutions entrusted with this money are failing to equip people with the skills required to drive economic growth.

In response, the National Treasury has commissioned the Government Technical Advisory Centre to conduct a comprehensive review of the national skills ecosystem in the year ahead. This may be the closest South Africa comes to determining whether it is getting value for the billions collected annually from corporate levies.

Minister of Higher Education and Training Buti Manamela has welcomed the Budget and reaffirmed the government’s commitment to skills development, expressing hope that it will help grow the economy. But hope alone is not policy.

If Manamela is serious, he must raise the bar on leadership. No SETA chairperson or CEO should be reappointed without a clean audit. In his first round of appointments, the Minister has been criticised by the Economic Freedom Fighters (EFF), which approached the North Gauteng High Court to have his appointments of several SETA CEOs and board members declared “invalid and unlawful.”

They argue the process lacked transparency and was irregular. In October 2025, Manamela reappointed eight SETA CEOs within 24 hours, a move the EFF claims is part of the ANC’s broader practice of cadre deployment, which they say undermines the integrity of public institutions.

SETAs have long been controversial. Manamela’s predecessor, Nobuhle Nkabane, was removed after similar disputes over appointments. The EFF previously called for the withdrawal of SETA administrators, citing mismanagement and political interference.

A skills revolution needs people committed to skills development, people of integrity. Manamela was certainly ill-advised in reappointing several of the eight when the evidence before him was clear that their performance was greed-focused and anti-skills development. But he will probably get another chance to right the wrongs.

SETAs play a crucial role in vocational training and skills development in South Africa. Disputes over leadership could disrupt programs aimed at addressing unemployment and workforce readiness.

Manamela must break the mould of his predecessors and put South Africa first. He must concede that SETAs have become a piggy bank for some and act, rather than being forced to act via the courts; otherwise, the only revolution that remains is the evolution of the SETA fatcats who carry on without any consequences.

Even President Ramaphosa may agree that the skills system needs a serious reboot. It should begin by removing those underperformers at SETAs. If you do not meet the AG’s standard in terms of managing the organisation’s finances, step down. A real skills revolution cannot start without accountability or a commitment to shifting the dial, not just for one’s own bank balance.

* Edwin Naidu heads Higher Education Media Services (HEMS), an education media start-up, publishing www.ednews.africa

** The views expressed do not necessarily reflect the views of IOL, Independent Media or The African.