EDITORIAL: Protests In Modern-Day Society Is Dead 

When power stops fearing protest, silence wins. This is a wake-up call on how South Africa’s loudest weapon is being disarmed.


Democratic South Africa was born through struggle. Its foundations were laid not in conference rooms, but in the streets carved out by those who refused to be silent. From the 1976 protest against the government’s policy of using Afrikaans as a medium of instruction in schools for Black students to the 1994 apartheid conquerors who got the first taste of freedom, the story of this nation has always been written in protest.

We protested against apartheid. We protested against economic exclusion. We protested for transformation in our schools and our institutions. In each case, protest was the only language those in power could not ignore.

We are a people who know those in power only listen when they are threatened, often violently. And it has been the history of our country’s leaders who respond not to the polite murmur of petitions but to the thunder of marching feet and tires burning.  

But what happens when even that language starts to lose its meaning?

Protests have become more frequent and more urgent, yet they are ignored. Communities rise to demand water, electricity, housing and dignity, and yet these demands are met with the same routine: a visit from officials, a statement to the media, and a fake promise of “investigations”. Then, silence.  

These issues persist, the cycle continues, and people begin to feel that speaking out changes nothing.

We can all remember the protest of 1976 when young people confronted the might of the apartheid state with nothing but conviction and clarity. They stood together because they believed in the power of their collective voice.

More recently, #FeesMustFall reminded us that protesting could still unsettle the powerful, but even then, the demand for free, decolonised education was diluted, redirected, and largely ignored.

I think the problem today is that the protest itself is being neutralised. Institutions have learnt to co-opt movements, to divide people, and offer symbolic gestures while preserving the status quo by either suspending, expelling or even criminalising protest action. A meeting here and there, tools to manage dissent without ever dealing with the problem.

Along with the above, the rise of individualism has made people easier to divide. In the age of likes, followers, and branded activism, the collective power that once drove our revolutions is fast fading.  

We are now in a period where movements become moments and action becomes content. And real transformation is replaced by representation without change.

Institutions, both political and academic, have learnt to exploit this. They divide and conquer, selecting a few voices to ‘engage’, elevating individuals while ignoring the masses. In doing so, they extinguish the flame of the collective, turning urgent demands into manageable noise.

This is how protest dies, not with suppression, but with performance. Not with silence, but with strategic listening.  

The tragedy is that we are living in a time when protest is needed more than ever. Economic inequality continues unabated. Corruption is a daily headline. Basic services have collapsed in many communities. And yet, when people rise, their voices bounce off a system trained to survive outrage.

We must remember that protest is not a problem. It is a pulse. It tells us when a democracy is in distress. To dismiss or defang a protest is to allow injustice to deepen in silence.

The choice is simple: either we rebuild the collective strength that once brought down giants, or we continue to shout into the wind while power pretends to listen.

Wits students have nothing but their dreams as housing crisis persists

The second block is in full swing, but an estimated 100 Wits students still don’t have a place to sleep.

The right to human dignity and adequate housing are enshrined in the South African constitution, but for some 100 homeless Wits University students, they remain a distant reality. 

The university only accommodates a fraction of its student population. Of 37,295 registered students, including 25,200 undergraduates and 12,098 postgraduates, Wits has just 5,700 beds available across its 15 on-campus residences spread around Braamfontein.

Many students, especially those from disadvantaged backgrounds or without bursary support, feel abandoned by a system that seems to be failing them. 

One affected student, Monkopane Mokgalabong, is a first-year geology student from Tzaneen, Limpopo, who revealed just how dire the situation has become.

“I’ve been sleeping in a security guard’s office near Charlotte Maxeke because I had nowhere else to go,” he told Wits Vuvuzela. “Sleeping outside wasn’t an option. I even had to beg the residence manager for help, but nothing came through.”

Defunded by NSFAS due to academic failure at a previous institution, Monkopane says he was shocked he could even register this year. “My luggage was too much to go back home, and I come from a disadvantaged background. Wits was always my dream university,” he said.

Deputy President of the Wits SRC, Boipelo Setsepu said: “We started engaging with management on this last year. They are aware of the issues, but our demands haven’t been met. We’ll have confidence in management if they finally come to the table and meet us halfway.” 

Setsepu confirmed the depth of the housing problem, particularly for returning students and postgraduates. “At the start of the year, there was an oversubscription of first-year students. That alone created a deficit of beds for returning students; we have about 78 spaces left, mostly for male students under 24.”

Wits communication officer, Tiisang Monatisa said: “It is estimated that there may be over 100 students in need of accommodation…  More than 450 students have been supported through the Wits Hardship Fund, and we expect to assist about 800 by the end of the year.”

To address the crisis, Wits launched the Transitional Accommodation Programme, backed by a R10 million allocation. “This year alone, 333 beds were acquired. The programme continues to support students as vacancies arise,” Monatisa said.

Wits also cited efforts beyond accommodation, pointing to food relief from Wits citizenship and community outreach as part of its student support infrastructure. “A thousand students receive a hot meal per term day,” he said.

The reality remains that the scale of the problem far outweighs the available resources. For many, the dream of studying at Wits is shadowed by nights spent in libraries, guard rooms, or even on the street.