June 16 marks Youth Day in South Africa, commemorating the 1976 Soweto Uprising. Fifty years ago, thousands of primary and high school pupils marched against the apartheid government’s imposition of Afrikaans as the medium of instruction. What began as a peaceful protest, which was meant to end at Orlando Stadium with a rally, was cut short on the way when police opened fire, killing hundreds of students.
On June 16, 2026, hundreds of people, including university students and members of civil society, gathered in Soweto to retrace the original route and “finish what was started”. The march honoured the courage of the 1976 generation and stands as a reminder that their fight for freedom and justice continues to inspire South Africa’s youth today.
Opening speeches before the march. Photo: Hannah Brown
Youth walking through Soweto. Photo: Hannah Brown
March to “finish what was started”. Photo: Hannah Brown
Youth Day March. Photo: Hannah Brown
Youth Day – commemorating the 1976 Soweto Uprising. Photo: Hannah Brown
‘We are what was dreamed’ poster. Photo: Hannah Brown
In 1976, black students bravely marched against the apartheid government. Photo: Hannah Brown
Marching toward Orlando Stadium. Photo: Hannah Brown
FEATURED IMAGE: Opening speeches before the march on June 16, 2026. Photo: Hannah Brown
A true story of murder and the miscarriage of justice.
“Likewise, every good tree bears good fruit, but a bad tree bears bad fruit. A good tree cannot bear bad fruit, and a bad tree cannot bear good fruit. Thus, by their fruit you will recognise them.”
Fruit of a Poisoned Tree by Antony Altbeker is about one of the most sensational legal cases in South African history, the Inge Lotz murder trial. The book explores the murder of a young Stellenbosch master’s student; the prosecution of her boyfriend and the exposure of police fabrication and investigation.
On March 16, 2005, Inge Lotz was found brutally murdered in her apartment around 22:30 by Christo Pretorius after receiving a call from Lotz’s friend. The discovery he made was gruesome and extremely violent: Lotz had multiple stab wounds in her neck, chest, and ribs. She had been beaten with a hammer on her head. Her forehead was crushed inwards, leaving behind the flesh hanging on her face. According to the investigators, there was no sign of forced entry, and all her valuable items, such as her laptop and cell phone, were left untouched. This means her attacker was known to her.
Her boyfriend, Fred van der Vyver, quickly became the prime suspect. Although he had an alibi, the evidence found on the scene proved otherwise. His fingerprints were found on the DVD she had been watching the afternoon of the attack, a bloody shoeprint matched Fred’s Hi-tech shoes, and lastly, the hammer used to crush her skull was found in his car.
The trial became an exposé in which the defence and the prosecution were trying to discredit each other. Fred was charged with her murder but was later acquitted because it had been discovered that there was dishonesty from the prosecution. So, the case went cold, and Inge did not get justice.
A friend of mine, Mmathapelo Agatha Motlhale, recently passed away. She, too, fell victim to GBV at the hands of her step-uncle. I remember how much she would complain about him constantly terrorising her and her mother. To the point of getting a protection order, which did not last long. He violated the protection order rules one day and tried to attack her mother. While protecting her mother, she slipped and fell. While on the floor, he trampled on her leg with enough force that broke her ankle. When she reported the incident, he was arrested but was not held in custody for long. Upon his return, he kept terrorising them until he got her mother arrested.
The description of the brutality of the murder really shocked my nervous system. I just kept wondering what type of rage and hatred a person would have to have in their heart to commit such an atrocity. To make matters worse, these crimes are usually committed by people we love and trust. Strangers are less likely to kill another stranger in the manner these crimes are committed. It is so unsettling how the danger is almost always in the same house or family as these victims.
Since her murder, femicide and gender-based violence (GBV) rates have increased drastically. Unfortunately, these murders are committed by intimate or family members of the victim. Still, the justice system continues to fail women.
Unfortunately, during the court cases and living in hotels in fear of her step-uncle, she got an infection on the broken ankle, which resulted in her death. The step-uncle may not have killed her directly, but he influenced her cause of death. Had justice prevailed and the step-uncle arrested, her leg would not have been broken in a scuffle, she would have never had an infection and died.
This book reveals a profound miscarriage of justice and serves as a chilling indictment of the professional bankruptcy and systemic rot within the South African criminal justice system. Just like Inge and Mmathapelo, many other women were failed by the justice system. Many of them would have been alive if the system were just and fair.
FEATURE IMAGE: Fruit of a Poisoned Tree by Antony Altbeker Photo: Naledi Maraisane
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South Africa’s qualification for the 2026 FIFA World Cup has sparked familiar excitement among fans. For many, it brings back memories of the 2010 FIFA World Cup in South Africa. A tournament widely remembered as one of the most iconic in modern football history and the first ever hosted on African soil.
But 2026 is not 2010.
The upcoming tournament, hosted across the United States, Mexico, and Canada, arrives in a vastly different global climate. While FIFA has spearheaded the expanded format as a celebration of global football, fans have raised growing concerns about whether the World Cup will remain truly accessible to the people who give it life—the fans.
A major concern is accessibility. Reports and human rights organisations have warned that visa restrictions and immigration policies in the United States could make it difficult for fans from certain countries to attend matches (Amnesty International on travel restriction). While all qualified teams are expected to participate, supporters from parts of Africa, the Middle East, and other regions may still face financial and administrative restrictions that limit their ability to travel.
Another growing issue? Cost. Rising inflation, expensive accommodation, and long-distance travel mean that attending the World Cup is becoming increasingly unaffordable for ordinary fans. What was once a global gathering of football cultures risks shifting toward a more commercialised experience shaped by tourism markets and corporate access.
Alongside these concerns, FIFA’s cultural strategy appears increasingly rooted in nostalgia. The return of global music icon Shakira to World Cup discussions following her legendary 2010 anthem Waka Waka (This Time for Africa) has reignited excitement among fans. Music has always been central to football’s identity, and Shakira’s presence connects the present tournament to one of its most celebrated eras.
However, this raises a deeper question: is nostalgia being used to mask growing concerns about the tournament itself?
There is no doubt that the 2026 World Cup will be one of the largest sporting events ever staged. But scale is not the same as spirit. Football’s power has always come from its people, travelling supporters, emotional crowds, and global accessibility. Without that, the World Cup risks losing the very identity that made it the world’s game.
As excitement builds, one question remains unavoidable: what is a World Cup, if the world itself cannot fully be there?
FEATURED IMAGE: A graphic of Shakira and Zakumi. Photos by: Oouinouin and Jason Bagley. Graphic by: Sanele Sithole
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.
Anglo American, African Rainbow Minerals, and Oppenheimer Memorial Trust donate millions but is it philanthropy or power play?
Mining-linked donations are funding new buildings and research at Wits University.
Some students and experts worry these gifts give companies too much influence.
The debate is growing over who controls public universities and whose values are reflected.
What do Duncan Wanblad, Patrice Motsepe and Nicky Oppenheimer have in common? They represent corporate interests that have embedded themselves into the heart of Wits University. With millions tied to South Africa’s contested mining industry, these power players are funding high-profile projects that promise innovation and progress.
Oppenheimer’s family trust committed R15 million over five years to fund the African Future Studies Initiative, Motsepe’s African Rainbow Minerals (ARM) sponsored R20 million into research for the engineering school, and under Wanblad’s leadership, Anglo American spent R90 million to transform Wits’ planetarium into the corporate-branded Digital Dome. Their philanthropy raises a pressing question: When mining companies fund public universities, do academics look through a telescope or a company lens?
The uncomfortable truth
Behind the gleaming new facilities and bold promises lies an uncomfortable truth – corporate donations to universities are not always neutral acts of generosity. The Oppenheimer family made their fortune from diamond mines that fuelled colonial exploitation. Just last month, ARM faced protests over claims it sold coal to Israel, GroundUp reported. Anglo American, on the other hand, promotes sustainability goals while remaining one of the world’s biggest coal producers, according to its website. These companies pour millions into the institution while their mines keep digging. Do they shape the future or protect a violent and extractive past?
The Wits African Rainbow Minerals Building, renamed in 2023 after a R20 million donation from one of South Africa’s largest mining companies. Photo: Rivaldo Jantjies
What’s given?
Headquartered in the economic hub of London with a secondary listing on the Johannesburg Stock Exchange, Anglo American’s R90 million commitments granted the company naming rights to the new digital dome that opened to the public early this year, placing its brand at the centre of a major academic and public institution. In 2024, the company was ranked 654th on the Forbes Global 2000 list of the world’s largest companies.
Speaking about their shared legacy of advancing both mining and education, which has shaped Johannesburg and South Africa, Anglo American South Africa said, “The relationship between Wits University and Anglo American started in 1896 when the university, then known as the South African School of Mines in Kimberley, offered services to De Beers.
The new Wits Anglo American Digital Dome is more than just a facility – it’s a symbol of what’s possible when we unite in our vision to shape a better future through education, technology and innovation.” At the same time, Professor Zeblon Vilakazi (FRS), Vice-Chancellor and Principal of Wits University, told Wits News: “Through the Wits Anglo American Digital Dome, we hope to continue inspiring people from various disciplines, including those working in climate modelling, artificial intelligence and the digital arts.”
The Wits Anglo American Digital Dome, unveiled in 2024, was funded through a R90 million donation from the mining giant. Photo: Rivaldo Jantjies
In 2023, Wits University announced a partnership with one of the nation’s leading coal suppliers, African Rainbow Minerals. The JSE-listed corporation’s R20 million endowment is backing research that connects mining to the future — exploring energy transitions, automation, and the digital technologies that are transforming how resources are extracted and utilised. This partnership saw the company replace the then Chamber of Mines Building on the Braamfontein West Campus, facing the M1 highway, renaming it to the Wits African Rainbow Minerals Building. ARM selected Wits University for this partnership because “it is one of the globally respected academic institutions and the home of the Mining Precinct, a key hub where industry leaders can engage and ensure the mining sector’s contributions are recognised by both students and the broader academic community,” ARM said in a statement.
Plaque outside the Wits African Rainbow Minerals Building, unveiled in 2023 to mark the renaming of the former Chamber of Mines Building following ARM’s donation. Photo: Rivaldo Jantjies
In the third quarter of 2021, the Oppenheimer Memorial Trust (OMT) donated R15 million to the African Future Studies Initiative at Wits University. The partnership was announced as a five-year commitment to support university research focused on challenges in Africa. The OMT was founded in 1957 by Harry Oppenheimer to honour his father, Ernst Oppenheimer. The memorial trust, established by the Oppenheimer family, is connected to Nicky Oppenheimer — the family’s heir and Africa’s third-richest person, with a net worth of $10.5 billion, according to Forbes’ real-time billionaire rankings.
At the time of the announcement, Tracey Webster, Chief Executive Officer of OMT, told Wits News, “The Oppenheimer Memorial Trust has a long tradition of investing in higher education and building the local academy. Given the ever-changing context we live in, it is imperative that we focus on developing a generation of researchers, scientists and academics that will ensure South Africa remains competitive and relevant in the 21st Century.” These contributions follow earlier markers of the family’s legacy at the university, including the Ernest Oppenheimer Hall of Residence, established in 1967, and the Oppenheimer Life Sciences Building. The trust did not respond to a request for comment from Wits Vuvuzela.
This bar graph shows the value of donations made to Wits University by major mining-linked donors between 2021 and 2024, highlighting contributions from the Oppenheimer Memorial Trust, African Rainbow Minerals, and Anglo American. Graphic: Rivaldo Jantjies
Who Really Benefits from University Donations?
Professor Imraan Valodia, Professor of Economics, Pro Vice-Chancellor of Climate, Sustainability and Inequality, and Director of the Southern Centre for Inequality Studies at Wits, said donations to universities often come with multiple motivations. Some alumni give because they benefited from the education they received. Others do it for tax reasons or because they want their names attached to buildings or projects. “A third reason may be the companies that have benefited from having a university related to their business feel that they need to contribute to that university,” he said, pointing to the long-standing relationship between Wits and the mining sector.
While this funding can support important academic work and help students, it also raises questions about influence. “There is of course, always a danger that by accepting these sorts of donations, universities may become beholden to these wealthy people’s interests,” Valodia explained. He noted that Wits has a Naming Policy to guide how donations are handled and believes that the university’s academic and management decisions remain independent. However, he warns that the risks are real, especially when donors or even governments try to shape what universities teach or research. This is now playing out in the United States, where debates at Harvard and Columbia University highlight how both private and political interests can pressure universities.
Tlhompo Thogomusi, a fourth-year LLB student and chairperson of the Wits EFF Student Command, sees these donations as more than just financial support. He argues that philanthropy from mining magnates is “a form of tokenism,” used to legitimise their power and wealth while “distracting from the exploitative nature of their business practices.” For Thogomusi, this isn’t just about naming rights — it’s about the consolidation of class power and ideological control. “Exploitation is a fundamental aspect of this relationship,” he says, suggesting that the financial support from powerful donors helps shape the university’s intellectual space and may even silence criticism. In this view, such relationships are not neutral; they reflect the broader struggle over who gets to shape public knowledge and values.
Inside the Wits Anglo American Digital Dome, launched in 2024. Photo: Rivaldo Jantjies
Living with it
The deals are signed in boardrooms, but the consequences play out in lecture halls. For many students, the university’s partnerships with mining giants aren’t abstract — they are part of daily life. Walking past buildings named after billionaires whose wealth came from extractive industries feels jarring, especially for students from communities affected by mining. According to a student who asked to remain anonymous, “It’s hard to sit in a lecture about inequality in a building named after someone who profited from it.” The university’s efforts to position itself as a future-facing institution are complicated by a past — and present — that many students are still reckoning with.
The money flows in, new buildings fill the skyline, and the questions keep piling up. In a city built on the profits of mining, the past still casts a long shadow. As universities align with major industry players, students and academics are left wondering who really shapes the future, and who pays the price.
FEATURED IMAGE: The Oppenheimer Life Sciences Building at Wits University, named after one of South Africa’s most prominent mining families. Photo: Rivaldo Jantjies
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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, […]
