The US ambassador highlights a path for joint US-South Africa co-operation after strained bilateral tensions.
The US ambassador speaks to students at a closed forum hosted by Wits Association of International Relations.
His speech emphasised greater partnership between the two nations despite current tensions.
Concern is raised over the true nature of this ‘cooperation’, regarding potential erosion of sovereignty.
United States ambassador Leo Brent Bozell III walking with chairperson of Wits Association of International Relations, Nathi Ndlovu during a visit to the institution on Wednesday, May 7, 2026. Photo: Hannah Brown.
On Wednesday May 6, newly appointed US ambassador Leo Brent Bozell III addressed Wits University students in a closed session hosted by the Wits Association of International Relations (AIRS).
In his opening remarks, Bozell seemed intent on making amends for previous undiplomatic comments. He applauded South Africa’s potential for “tremendous opportunity” and highlighted the importance of stronger US-South African cooperation. “It’s all about partnership between our two countries,” he said.
One of his main areas of focus was on increasing US involvement within South Africa, underscoring a necessity within three specific areas, namely investment, crime and geostrategic alignment – all of which he claims can be redressed through closer relations.
Firstly, he argued that South Africa’s investment value is severely handicapped by B-BBEE policies, calling for alternative means of redressing social disparity in a way that remains profitable for investors. Secondly, he expressed concern over the country’s crime rates and proposed US-backed digital advancements. Lastly, he condemned South Africa for allegedly siding with the US’s adversaries, namely Iran, Russia and China: a decision that Bozell describes as “not non-aligned anymore.”
These requests are nothing new. Since March, Bozell has been adamant that South Africa shifts its allegiance in favour of US interests. However, this raises questions regarding potential infringements on national sovereignty – a principle that is highly protected under the US constitution, but conveniently disregarded when applied to South Africa.
Picture of the closed session in progress. Photo: Hannah Brown.
Additionally, Bozell’s insistence on fostering greater partnership between the two nations stands at odds with the US’s hostility towards South Africa. From claims of ‘white genocide’ to being barred from the upcoming G20 – the country has constantly come under fire from the US. Bozell’s eagerness to “find common ground” and “put our differences aside” is jarringly disconnected from political reality.
When questioned about the most recent G20 snub against South Africa, Bozell stood his ground, emphasizing the US’s commitment to its national interest. “There’s a prerogative that the United States has,” he says. “Any hosting country can decide who it wants and who it doesn’t want.” However, this reveals a glaring double standard: when the US exercises its autonomy in pursuit of state interests, it is rationalised as necessary, but when South Africa does the same, it is persecuted and punished.
Picture of students listening to the forum. Photo: Hannah Brown.
Lastly, despite the US’s overt insistence of South Africa’s “white genocide”, Bozell could not uphold this narrative with any conviction. When asked by Wits Vuvuzela if he encountered any genocidal violence on white people since entering the country, he stated that he had yet to visit the rural areas and could not confirm. “I have no comments,” he said.
Ultimately, Bozell’s visit seemed less about genuine partnership and more another frail attempt to realign the South African agenda to reflect the interests of the US: a move that not only sheds accountability of its prior offences against the nation but also aims to dismantle the very sovereignty it upholds so dearly.
FEATURE IMAGE: Picture of US ambassador Leo Brent Bozell III. Photo: Hannah Brown.
Street skate culture is alive and thriving in the heart of Jozi.
F City hosts a skate competition in Selby.
Young skaters flock to the event to show off their tricks.
Skate culture facilitates youth development and community building.
Picture of skater mid-trick. Photo: Jamie Ho.
Picture of skater mid-trick. Photo: Jamie Ho.
Picture of skater mid-trick. Photo: Jamie Ho.
Picture of skater mid-trick. Photo: Jamie Ho.
Picture of skater mid-trick. Photo: Jamie Ho.
Picture of skater mid-trick. Photo: Jamie Ho.
Picture of skater mid-trick. Photo: Jamie Ho.
On Saturday April 25, wheels were rolling and sneakers were skidding in Johannesburg’s inner-city as F City Market brought skateboarding to the streets of Selby.
The afternoon was filled with cheers as a group of young skaters from central Johannesburg crowded around a small wooden ramp, eager to showcase their skills. The prize: a brand new skateboard courtesy of Crispy Skateboards.
This was young Isheanesu Hove’s first day doing a double kickflip: a move which crowned him the winner of the competition. “Skating to me, it means life,” Hove says, proudly clutching his newly won board. “It inspires me.”
This event is one of many hosted by F City Market in collaboration with Crispy Skateboards to bring skating back to its roots. Joe Dludla and Rhandzi Rhay, two students who founded the movement, were spurred by the lack of skating events in Johannesburg.
With most events being larger-scale or enclosed in skate parks, Dludla and Rhay saw a need to create an alternative space on the streets of Braamfontein for the youth by the youth.
Street skating is central to what Dludla calls the “core culture of skateboarding,” an activity that isn’t limited to skate parks, but open on the streets and accessible to all. “It’s a very small niche scene, so we need to keep it alive,” he adds.
At its core, the space is dedicated to uplifting the youth and providing them with a platform to hone their skills. Each month, F City hosts a youth development mentorship programme in collaboration with Growing Alexandra Skate Club, which aims to cultivate growth and creativity among the youth of Jozi.
As this initiative is still relatively new, it is in desperate need of volunteers. Dludla and Rhay encourage anyone with a skillset to share their craft– from skateboarding to graffiti to music. “We’re trying to influence the next generation of kids,” Rhay says.
The event extends beyond just skating; it’s a culture rooted in creativity and artistic freedom. As co-founder of Crispy Skateboards, Kaelik Dullaart says, “It’s the music. It’s the aesthetic. It’s the attitude. It’s the community.”
Drawn together by a love for skating, the space has become more than just an event; it has become a family.
As the sun set, the kids departed as a group back to their homes in town; skateboards ablaze beneath their feet.
Picture of the young skateboarders on Webber Street. Photo: Jamie Ho.
FEATURED IMAGE: Picture of a skater suspended in the air mid-trick. Photo: Jamie Ho.
As soon as my foot crosses the threshold, I am sucked into the cold, bleak walls of the gallows. Looming before me are my 52 last steps. In a single file, we follow the warden.
49.
50.
51.
With each footfall, the weight in my heart grows heavier. It’s like trudging through water, with my feet being pulled down deeper and deeper. Steadily, we approach that dreaded chamber of death.
Like a constant buzz of electricity, the air is charged with the crackle of violence. Hanging from the ceiling are nooses, dangling like serpents twisting and curling their vicious tails.
We line up alongside the gallows, necks craned; eyes widened at these troubling ropes. At our feet: a wooden trapdoor which can be opened at the pull of a lever. This rickety platform is the only thing standing between life and death: the final step before the drop.
The clock is ticking. As the warden makes his way across the room, I feel my chest constrict as if the ropes have twisted around my heart. The air is now so thick; my tongue feels like lead and my neck prickles with sweat. Time’s almost up. His hand reaches for the lever.
As we all surround that limp trap door, nobody makes a sound. I can still feel it settling all around me: that cold, deafening silence. Even as we depart from the gallows, it clings to me long after.
Drawing of the gallows in Kgosi Mampuru II prison. By: Jamie Ho.
It has been 32 years since the end of Apartheid, a period where 3 500 people were sentenced to death by the state. In the modern age, it has become concerningly easy to shrug off these injustices as a thing of the past, a forgotten by-gone.
In the gallows of Kgosi Mampuru II prison, however, history is anything but gone. It echoes through the halls, up the stairs, around the hanging rope: a lively, tangible pain that sends a jolt through your bones. It sits heavy in the air: the agony of men marching solemnly to their deaths. That violence bleeds from that pocket of history. It lives in that prison.
The day we visited the gallows, I left with a newfound understanding of the past: that just because it has passed does not mean that it is gone.
The freedom that we have today came at a hefty cost; it was built from bloodied death chambers, scavenged from towers of corpses, hacked from beating hearts that were stuffed in boxes.
It is anything but the past; it is alive, and it weaves itself indefinitely into the fabric of the present, informing the very freedom we have today. It lingers in the triumph of being able to walk freely on an open street. It sits in the warmth and laughter of a community braai. It pumps through the veins of a liberated nation.
Before Solomon Mahlangu was executed he said, “Tell my people that I love them and that they must continue to fight; my blood will nourish the tree that will bear the fruits of freedom.”
As we observe Freedom Day, we must remember the thousands of lives the fruits of our freedom are staked on. We cannot let their memories die in vain. It is our one duty: to honour their sacrifice and let the past mean more than just the past.
FEATURED IMAGE: A portrait of Jamie Ho. Photo: Alaistair Russel
The Atlas of Uncertainty offers a profound perspective on African migration, redefining our understanding of belonging.
Atlas of Uncertainty opens at Wits Origins Centre.
Various artists, writers and researchers celebrated their work during the opening ceremony.
The exhibition holds significance in today’s divided society.
Picture of papier-mâché boat sculpture entitled ‘Mashuna and Hakuna nija’ by artist Onys Martin. Photo: Jamie Ho.
The Atlas of Uncertainty exhibition opened at the Wits Origins Centre on Saturday, April 18, inviting visitors to question the current agenda around migration, urbanisation and belonging in Africa.
From a paper-mâché boat constructed from receipts to a woven tapestry stitched with burlap, the exhibition offers a more humanising lens for viewing the global phenomenon of mobility: not as burdensome, but as inherent to humanity.
Rooted in three African cities, Johannesburg, Accra, and Nairobi, the Atlas looks beyond the borders that divide us. Migration researcher Loren B. Landau highlights that the current scholarship neglects to capture the complexities of Africa, thereby revealing a need to move “from the counting to the feeling; from the census to the senses.”
To understand the vast complexities that define the continent, the Atlas is not only working across borders, but across different media, disciplines, platforms and ways of thinking. Urban sociologist Caroline Wanjiku Kihato explains that this “lets different ways of knowing sit alongside one another, without forcing them into a single voice.”
The Atlas of Uncertainty is a powerful revision of how we understand African cities. It uproots mainstream narratives surrounding migration, opening the space up for uncomfortable yet necessary conversations.
Spatial practitioner, Carina Kanbi provides some insight into the actual making of the project and how its themes of migratory politics were mirrored over the course of its conception.
Going all the way back to 2023, when the project first began, she notes challenges faced by the artists working across borders, not only in physically transporting the works, but also in handling bureaucratic restrictions between countries. “The exhibition did not begin this morning,” she explains. “It very much began in transit.”
And staying true to this theme of mobility, the Atlas will remain a piece of art that will remain in perpetual movement. While it is on exhibition until July 3 at the Origins Centre, it is also planned to showcase in Accra and Nairobi in 2027.
Each piece of the Atlas reverberates with the passion of its creators. Each tassel holds weight.
Each shard aches with feeling. As the cracks of division deepen in our world, the value of this exhibit lies not only in its ability to challenge the status quo, but in its ability to reach where data and statistics cannot, to reconnect with our ability to be human.
Close-up of artwork titled ‘I am the Graffiti on the Cracked Wall‘ by Windybrow Arts Centre. Photo: Jamie Ho.Picture of ‘Strangers and Spaces’ by Austine Adika. Photo: Jamie Ho.Close-up of ‘A Map of Dreams and Realities’ by Billie McTernan. Photo: Jamie Ho.
FEATURED IMAGE: Picture of artwork titled ‘When We Travel, Where Do We Settle?” by Wezile Harmans. Photo: Jamie Ho.
Joburg Theatre’s Tribute to Hugh Masekela unites and uplifts the community, revealing the enduring and powerful influence of his music.
Joburg Theatre hosts a 4-day concert to honour the legacy of Hugh Masekela.
A lineup of artists delivered heartfelt performances celebrating his music.
The community united to show their love for the cherished musician.
Picture of Zoe Modiga singing at Joburg Theatre on Friday evening. Photo: Jamie Ho.
The Joburg Theatre held a 4-day musical tribute to Hugh Masekela from Thursday April 9 to Sunday April 12, with performances from some of South Africa’s renowned jazz artists including Tresor, Baobab Sisters, iComplete, Vusi Mahlasela, Judith Sephuma, and Zoe Modiga – all to celebrate the legacy of a man affectionately known as Bra Hugh.
Wits Vuvuzela was thrust into the magic of the event on both Friday and Sunday evening. Pulsing through the stage was the rich lifeblood of Masekela’s music. It flowed through the vocals of the performing artists and poured into the crowd creating a tangible, powerful bond.
On both evenings, the theatre was alive not only with the sounds of his music, but with the liveliness of the crowd. People were dancing, throwing their arms in the air, spinning with loved ones. Every hip sway, every chuckle, every cheer: a testament to their love for Hugh.
No longer were we seated in an auditorium, but in a living breathing piece of history. Infected with rhythm, infused with soul, each song trembled with passion, sending ripples across the sea of luminescent faces.
Those that attended the concert were deeply moved by the power of its performances. One attendee, Oratile Morotolo summed it all up saying, “We were witnessing something we had no business witnessing. As though we were seeing something unseen. A transcendent catapult in time.”
Born in Emalahleni, near Johannesburg, Hugh’s passion for music started at an early age. He contributed massively to the struggle movement against Apartheid, with songs like Soweto Blues and Stimela. Most famously he is known for his protest-anthem Bring him Home (Nelson Mandela) demanding the release of Mandela from prison in 1987.
Not only is he a voice for freedom, but a voice for Africa. Every note of his music pays homage to what he describes to be “the wealth of African culture.”
He passed away on January 23, 2018, at 78 years of age. But his soul continues to live on, not only in his music, but in the people as well.
Even as the lights dimmed and the performers took their last bow, there remained something sacred in all of us that night: something that can never die, a heart that will go on beating.
Picture of Hugh Masekela’s famous trumpet. Photo: Jamie Ho.
FEATURED IMAGE: Picture of the stage during the concert at Joburg Theatre. Photo: Jamie Ho
“A society that discourages critical thinking is unwittingly admitting that its foundations can’t survive honest examination.” – Kalen Dion
During my Undergraduate degree, I was assigned a group presentation on France’s foreign policy. It was a layered topic: one that required days of research and rigorous group meetings. One of my group mates, however, insisted on using ChatGPT to write her entire speech.
Unluckily for her, our professor happened to be an expert in French policy. Like a bloodhound, he sniffed out numerous inaccuracies in her speech. In front of the entire class, she had spewed flimsy words, inaccurate facts and false statistics from ChatGPT mindlessly. She presented the information as confidently as if she herself wrote it.
Ask anyone and they’ve probably used AI at least once. It’s so deeply entrenched in our everyday lives; it’s inescapable. When you write an email, an AI suggestion pops up recommending what to say. When you open Instagram, you’re bombarded with a surge of AI-generated reels. Even something as simple as a Google search has an automatic AI summary built in.
AI has burrowed itself so deeply into every channel of our lives that it has become difficult to imagine life without it. But is AI training us to be passive consumers of information?
A study by MIT Media Lab revealed that participants who had used AI to write their essays showed extremely low brain activity compared to those that didn’t. This was largely because they were not actively engaging with any of the material; they were simply parroting it. Ultimately, the tool that was built to supplement our thinking is, in many cases, actually replacing it.
This has dangerous repercussions for human development. If we blindly consume content generated by AI, what else will we be blind to?
In George Orwell’s infamous 1984, he depicts a totalitarian society in which independent thought is abolished under the dictatorship of Big Brother. At the time, it seemed like a fictional dystopia, a far-off tale too outrageous to be taken seriously. Now, it has bled into our reality.
It was Steve Biko who once said, “The greatest weapon in the hand of the oppressor is the mind of the oppressed.”
We must hold onto our vigilance. We must sharpen our minds. The world is undergoing a rapid digital shift. Our ability to think, to question what we know so that we are not mindless followers becomes our greatest and most potent weapon.
FEATURED IMAGE: Headshot of Jamie Ho, this week’s editor.
The oppressive regime of Israel echoes eerily with our own Apartheid history, calling for greater South African solidarity.
“When we choose indifference, we consent to someone else’s cruelty.”
― Lawrence Nault
Israel just passed a new law issuing the death penalty for Palestinian political prisoners, revealing a striking resemblance to South Africa’s Apartheid state.
The systemic erasure of the Palestinian people has been ongoing despite claims of a ‘ceasefire’ in October 2026. In fact, a total of 73, 000 deaths have resulted from Israeli attacks, according to a UN report.
Israel’s new death penalty doesn’t just highlight an institutional injustice but also signals an eerie repetition of history.
Hand-drawn animation of the freedom flotilla. By: Jamie Ho.
“For many years, South Africa had the doubtful honour of being a world leader in the number of judicial executions carried out,” says Deputy Minister Andries Nel. During the period from 1948 to 1994, the country, under the Apartheid regime, utilized the death penalty to suppress the political opposition of black activists.
Now the same thing is happening in Israel. The death penalty grants the Israeli state the legal authority to kill any Palestinian held in detention, many of whom have never been charged or received a fair trial. Under this mandate, systemic discrimination and genocidal violence will be a part of the Israeli constitution.
As South Africans, we are no stranger to oppressive regimes; it is a part of our history. And now history is repeating itself. We cannot be complicit.
As the fleet of over 100 boats from countries all over the world prepares to sail towards Gaza to break Israel’s siege on Palestine, the spirit of international solidarity rings clear.
The Global Sumud Flotilla is the biggest maritime mission set to disrupt Israel’s siege on Gaza with 3,000 activists sailing from 52 countries, South Africa included. The goal is to break Israel’s blockade, deliver life-saving aid and confront international complicity.
In the words of Dr Zaheera Soomar, a participant of the Flotilla, “Some moments in history demand more from us than comfort or safety. They demand conscience.”
Now more than ever, it is necessary to take a stance. Just because we are distant from the conflict doesn’t mean we can’t have an impact.
Donate to the Global Sumud Flotilla. Boycott pro-Israel organizations. Spread awareness by sharing the message. Don’t forget Palestine.
FEATURED IMAGE: Photo taken outside of the Wits School of Digital Arts depicting a graffiti mural of the word ‘Free’ in solidarity with Palestine. By: Jamie Ho.
Since her announcement as the Democratic Alliance’s mayoral candidate for Johannesburg, Helen Zille has dominated national headlines. In this bonus episode of We Should Be Writing podcast, hosts Lulah Mapiye and Bonolo Mokonoto dissect a media meet-and-greet with the mayoral hopeful. From her extensive political résumé to her controversial public utterance, we examine why the Democratic Alliance has chosen Hellen Zille as their candidate for the 2027 local mayoral elections. Additionally, […]
