In Johannesburg, the status of a “world-class city” is measured by the hours, not just its economic output.
By 5am, Gauteng’s workforce is already in motion, streaming in from across the province towards the City of Gold that is Johannesburg. It is a daily mass pilgrimage made not just on the clean, rapid lines of the Gautrain, or the
humming rows of traffic from the city’s suburbs but also on the crammed, frantic routes of taxi ranks and bus stops. It’s a real reflection of the country’s geographical challenges, and daily obligations of citizens earning their pay.
This collective of largely hidden figures is the true pulse of Johannesburg, with millions of individual sacrifices made by those determined to “Dala what they must”, which means to do what you can in any situation – or to simply survive long enough to make their dreams come true. For the average South African citizen, the early alarm clock ringing at 6:24am isn’t a badge of honour branding them a ‘morning person’.
South Africa has been noted to have the world’s earliest risers. The reason behind this eye-opening average is brutally practical; many people get up early to plan for their daily commute to work. It is considered the norm for many citizens to get up as early as 4am, which is often to avoid the delays caused by bustling morning traffic.
Most South Africans rely on complex public transport routes, required to beat peak morning traffic or take lengthy walks across concrete pillars, so an exceptionally early start is the only way to conquer the long, arduous commutes from distant homes to city-based workspaces. The enduring legacy of Apartheid’s spatial planning has forced many Johannesburg workers into gruelling daily commutes to and from their jobs. Historically segregated townships remain distant from the central hubs of economic opportunity, which drastically impacts these workers’ hours and productivity. For some workers, it’s easier and more cost-efficient to stay in the Johannesburg region, in comparison to other parts of Gauteng.
Vuka ma o lele!
Waking up at 6:24am is a necessity that underpins South Africa’s daily grind. The morning sunlight catches the dust motes on the windscreens of cars and taxis, as the masses travel toward the heart of the corporate hub, embodying a nearly spiritual commitment to the golden dream of a better life. The City of Johannesburg showcases an ambitious morning momentum that drives the engine of Africa’s biggest
economic headquarters, where glass towers and tall buildings are symbols of the global economy reflected in Africa. These are the modern gold reefs of Johannesburg, representing the wealth and opportunity that draw talent from Pretoria and Soweto.
Kabelo Ramphele, a Chartered Accountant (CA) and Associate Director at KPMG, is not just measuring columns of figures; he is navigating the complex, high-stakes game of Johannesburg’s corporate environment. Raised in Soweto, his recent promotion was quickly followed by a life-defining milestone: signing his first official audit opinion. The gravity of this achievement is rooted in his journey, which was a demanding path that started with the challenge of earning a CA designation, which he recalls as the moment his “life completely changed.”
Ramphele stresses that the transition from student to entry-level employee to executive requires an aggressive shift in mindset, moving from self-directed studies to a defined accountability to corporate. “You need to go from, ‘I own my time’, to ‘my time is now paid for by someone else’,” he explains. For Ramphele, planning is the bedrock of his performance, noting the critical truth that “those who fail to plan, plan to fail.” His commitment to structure is evident even in his morning ritual: his alarm is set for 6:15am, though he admits he doesn’t fully wake up till 7am – with the very first order of business in the office being a cup of coffee.
“You’ve got to play the game…”
Ramphele views the workplace as a constantly evolving arena, a “game that you never knew existed.” Entering the
corporate sector is not simply about conforming but mastering the art of observation. He advocates for authenticity as the ultimate tool for career longevity. “Authenticity will actually get you the furthest,” he asserts, reinforcing the need for difference to spark genuine change. For those who seek influence, he states the most important part of the game is “being at the table to play the game… I think the best leaders are observers. People who observe, they listen, they watch, then they act.”
Despite his focus on goal setting, Ramphele maintains a critical perspective on the relentless nature of the corporate grind. If he could change one thing about Johannesburg’s professional culture, it would be the pervasive “hustle mentality”, which he describes as a non-stop and non-productive action. He proposes that corporate burnout is merely a symptom of the same institutional inefficiency that the World Bank has cited as a primary impediment to South Africa’s desperately needed inclusive growth.
The World Bank recognises Johannesburg as the largest single metropolitan contributor to the national economy, holding around 16% of South Africa’s GDP and 40% of the GDP of Gauteng province. The estimated number of employed people sits at 2,06-million. The City of Johannesburg Annual Economic Review (2025) reports that the non-agricultural formal employment in Johannesburg makes up 1,69-million, out of the 10 million employees in South Africa. It is estimated that approximately 81.7% of Johannesburg’s labour market is in involved in formal employment.
While balancing the pressures of a demanding career with becoming a new father, Ramphele sees his primary professional role as driving change within a city that is increasingly “Africanised” by diverse, ambitious talent migrating from across the continent. He notes that the constant pressure to “go, go, go” often sacrifices the things that truly matter such as family, friends, and personal well-being. Reflecting on his own happiness, he finds a stark contrast between his disciplined adult life and the simple, unrestricted joy of his childhood, concluding that the pursuit of professional goals “doesn’t exude happiness.” Ramphele says that people seeking to enter the city’s corporate world must answer the call for balance, where success must be sustained-not just chased.
Don’t lose yourself under the city’s bright lights
Ayanda Tshabalala’s journey into the corporate world provides a sharp, contemporary portrait of a young female professional determined to succeed on her own terms. A manager of professional practice for Audit and Assurance at KPMG, her story is one of autonomy and the unyielding belief that corporate achievement should not come at the expense of personal peace or communal warmth. While Ramphele is focused on sitting at the table to play the game, Tshabalala is focused on maintaining her personal autonomy in the game that threatens to extinguish it.
Tshabalala admits that the transition from student to professional was “hard”, primarily because of the intense human friction she encountered as a CA, citing “micromanagers, who kind of makes you feel like they don’t trust you.” This initial struggle cemented her focus: her career would be defined by a fight for control over her personal space and time. For Tshabalala, maintaining that flexibility is non-negotiable because it is the critical factor that allows “a work-life balance as well.”
Her ambition is evidently not for status alone; her greatest achievement, she says, was “exceeding expectations” at work while simultaneously guarding her personal time. This priority on balance is informed by a global perspective she gained on her travels abroad. She contrasts her experience in London, whose culture she describes as “very rigid” and its people “very cold,” with her home city, where she notes that the social climate “is much warmer.” For a driven young woman in corporate, the culture must be balanced by the social connection and warmth that she often feels in Johannesburg.
Evolve or atrophy
Tshabalala’s perspective highlights a subtle distrust of traditional leadership, where she feels that the people who uphold dated corporate standards “don’t always think about the future.” Tshabalala’s narrative ultimately offers a model of success built not on playing a game, but on aiming to create an environment where authenticity and humanity can genuinely thrive alongside traditional models of success. Unlike looking up at the executive floor for change, Tshabalala places her faith in the influences from the ground up, believing that the true drivers of change are “the service staff and the young people.”
The person clocking into their shift at 6am to guard the main gates or the worker arriving to sterilise the executive floors, all who have travelled this journey still feel Apartheid’s legacy whilst navigating commutes that stretch into the hour-and-a-half range each way. They are essential to the city’s early morning buzz, part of the underpaid motion that provides the foundations for the city’s high-speed profits, a living, breathing reflection of South Africa’s persistently high Gini coefficient. So, the city presents itself not as a perfect metropolitan narrative, but in a dazzling yet deeply scarred duality.
One side offers the promise of prosperity, a place where fortunes are made and global capital flows freely. The other is a relentless struggle for dignity; a world where the proximity to wealth only amplifies its absence amongst the majority. My inquiry into the corporate world begins not just in the executive suite, but also at the perimeter, with the one figure whose vantage point sits on the fence of both realities: the security guard. Lindani Nkanini is the warm, uniformed witness to the systemic forces that elevate one’s life into a jet-setting career while others crash under the pressures of “making it”.
Keeping himself firmly rooted in the soil of his humble beginnings in KwaZulu-Natal, Nkanini’s story presents a view that asks the ultimate yet painful question: If Johannesburg is a world-class city, then who exactly can consider this city as ‘world-class’?
“Umuntu ngumuntu ngabantu!”
Born in Jozini, under uMhlabuyalingana District Municipality, Nkanini came to Johannesburg in 2015 to escape what he describes as “poor background” and to support his family. After working in an underpaying job at a furniture factory, he decided to pursue security services. In our conversations, I was struck by the delight that he is passionate about safety and law enforcement – not just in his work. Nearly nine years later, Nkanini went from a position as an ATM security guard at Rosebank Mall to being an internal security escort at KPMG, one of the “Big Four” firms that also includes Ernst and Young, PwC and Deloitte.
On a regular workday, he works a 12-hour straight shift from 6am to 6pm. Nkanini wakes up at 4am to get ready and leaves his flat in Maboneng at 5:10am, noting that he often arrives right before 6am. Nkanini states that the start of his career did not go as planned but he still aims to see progress in his life. “So, since things are actually not going well, I decided to just do something that can at least keep my dream, maybe one day be prosperous, but unfortunately, I’m still stuck with security, but one day I just hope things will happen,” he states.
Nkanini has always kept his dream of being a teacher alive, sharing a wide smile when discussing his desire to still pursue it. He states that his hardest challenge has been managing people and engaging with different personalities despite his rural upbringing. He describes it as limited due to the lack of knowledge shared about different career paths and the lack of racial diversity that surrounded him.
A first-hand witness of the hard work and long hours corporate employees go through, Nkanini expresses sympathy for the sacrifices they make to grow and earn a living in Johannesburg. He often sees workers come early and leave late, expressing his intent to always show a friendly face and provide them comfort. This comfort often comes in the form of a conversation and the reassurance of their safety, as he often observes people working late hours to meet deadlines, or young graduates making their mark in a new work environment.
Describing himself as a humble yet stubborn Zulu man, Nkanini is often seen around the offices with a friendly smile, greeting people warmly as he goes about his daily responsibilities. He highlights that he enjoys making employees feel safe and that respect is a quality that is innately within him. From his experience in retail and corporate Johannesburg, he feels that he has had a lot of growth and has managed to adapt well to the city’s dynamic environment.
Asking whether Johannesburg is a world-class city is perhaps the wrong question. It implies a single, universal standard that the City of Gold was never designed to meet. Under the weight of opportunity, the price of progress is often paid in resilience. The early bird gets the worm and Joburg doesn’t just run on municipal services alone; it thrives on the relentless and personal commitment of its employed citizens. It is a city that doesn’t just promise opportunity; it demands you fight for it. It is not a matter of whether Johannesburg is world-class, but whether any other world-class city can boast of having an African heart, that is ambitious and unapologetically alive from sunrise to sunset.
FEATURED IMAGE: GIF of Johannesburg city during sunrise, with camera and nob on orange background. GIF: Katlego Makhutle
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