A new amendment to the National Credit Act could see students with debt blacklisted as soon as they graduate.
On August 13, 2025, the Minister of Trade and Industry, Parks Tau, submitted draft amendments to the National Credit Act, proposing that educational institutions may report student debt to credit bureaus. If passed, this would mean that graduates could be blacklisted for their debt. Public comment is open until September 12, 2025.
At first glance, this policy looks like accountability. But in reality, it is yet another tool that widens South Africa’s already staggering inequality gap. For wealthy families, paying university fees is not a burden. For the poor, especially the Black majority, it is another chain tying us down.
South Africa is already split in two: those who have, and those who struggle to survive. Instead of building bridges, the ruling party seems determined to burn them down, shutting off access and any chance to ever cross that bridge. The Afircan National Congress continues to oppress young people, creating more obstacles than opportunities. Instead of uplifting us, they are burying us deeper under the weight of policies that do not understand our lived realities.
Not every student has parents who can afford fees for tertiary education. Those who manage through bursaries and student loans, then graduate into an economy that demands work experience for jobs, while internships often pay next to nothing. The lucky few who evade unemployment through entry-level jobs can earn as little as R5000 a month. How must that cover rent, food, transport, and other essentials, and still stretch to settle student debt?
This amendment doesn’t simply manage debt, it weaponises it. It tells young South Africans that their dreams of education come with a punishment clause. That, unless you are privileged, your qualification is a curse that follows you into every financial decision, from applying for a job to renting a flat.
Are our leaders truly this blind? Or are they deliberately working against the success of young South Africans? Each new barrier makes it harder to believe they care.
But we are not powerless. The public has until September 12, 2025, to oppose this amendment. Send your comments to credit@thedtic.gov.za
Raise your voice, share your story, and remind those in power that the future of this country depends on its youth.
To the politicians who continue to oppress us: we will meet you at the ballot box.
South Africa is clearly unwell, and it is our duty as her citizens to demand treatment before it’s too late.
As of April 2025, the new South Africa is officially 31 years old. She is the answer to our forebearers’ prayers, the jewel in Africa’s crown and home to the genesis of humanity. However, it would be nearly impossible to expect her to be fine when her daughters are dying on the regular, the multicultural colours of her rainbow are dull and her leaders decide to pimp her out.
In a perfect world, we as citizens elect leaders we believe are best suited to take care of our country’s health and wellbeing – and in turn our own. Unfortunately, we do not live in a perfect world, and we are impacted by bad decisions made behind closed doors. Decisions that often compound the symptoms of our 31-year-old’s health. Nursing our patient cannot be left to those with access to power alone, we need to be active caretakers too.
Here’s how to tell when your country is under the weather:
In mid June 2025, the Hawks raided South African comedian and Tiktoker Anton Taylor’s home with the signoff of judge C.A Erasmus and the instruction of suspended police minister Senzo Mchunu. This raid was a result of a satirical video Taylor posted in March 2025. Taylor pretended to be a Czech criminal in cahoots with Minister Senzo Mchunu and the police department as a means to continue with his various criminal dealings with no legal repercussions. Taylor’s case was eventually dismissed, however this is a prime example of authoritarianism. The right to freedom of expression is guaranteed under Section 16 of the Constitution. This incident is an alarming symptom because it reflects a government ministers willingness to infringe of the rights of South African citizens because his feelings were hurt by a satirical video.
When she was 11 in 2005, the rand to dollar exchange rate was approximately R6,35 to the dollar. During that time, she had an unemployment rate of 26,5%. Ten years later at 21 in 2015, the rand sat at approximately R12,73 to the dollar. She recorded unemployment rates of 24.5% by the end of the fourth quarter that year. Now at 31, the rand to the dollar exchange rate sits at R 17,87 to the dollar, with an unemployment rate of 33.2% by the second quarter of 2025. The progression of all these figures demonstrate that South Africa is not a strong as she used to be. She is unable to interact with her peers in ways she previously could. She is further weakened by our government officials and entrepreneurs who use her resources to build personal compounds in Nkandla, procure palatial mansions in Constantia and build R12million homes in Waterfall. She is at the mercy of pimps who travel in blue light convoys and routinely sell her to the highest bidder for their gain.
4. She’s a shell of her former self
She does not look or behave like a country that has gold, diamonds, chromium, coal, iron ore, rodium, platinum, palladium and manganese. She does not shine like the stars she’s produced globally in sports, art, fashion and academia. She’s lost her shine and her leaders have no answers for her children.
Through rising unemployment, gender-based violence and poverty statistic we’ve become desensitised to the reality of our situation. In the words of Sir Francis Bacon, “knowledge is power”. Now that you’ve been alerted to the signs of an unhealthy nation, it’s time we act and plan ways to bring her back to vitality like our lives depend on it, because they do.
An influencer you trust will say they “did not know” when you are stuck in Russia working in a weapons factory.
Over the weekend, South Africans were outraged by videos posted by some local influencers on Tik Tok and Instagram, promoting Russia’s Alabuga start programme, under the guise of a study programme.
According to Bloomberg news, the Alabuga Start is currently being investigated by Interpol, an international criminal police organization, for human trafficking. It is alleged; the company hires women from Africa between the ages of 18 and 22.
Amongst the South African influencers who promoted the programme were Cyan Boujee (Honour Zuma), Peachy Sprinkles (Siyamthanda Anita), Ghost Hlubi (Khanya Hlubi), Seemah (Sima Mangolwane), and Zillewizzy (Khathutshelo Netshitomboni). They each have over 500,000+ followers on TikTok and Instagram.
Their posts promoted a two-year study-work programme, paying between $551-$681 (R9700-R12,000) a month for jobs in sectors such as hospitality, catering, production operator and transport.
According to Independent Online News (IOL) and News24, when these young women arrive in Russia, their job descriptions change, and they are instead subjected to ‘slave like’ working conditions.
They are made to work for long hours in drone factories producing weapons under surveillance, exposed to toxic chemicals and paid poorly. Most are left with no financial means to return home.
While it pays well to get international campaigns, influencers must remember their followers are not just numbers, but people whose lives matter. Especially in a country like ours were high unemployment rates make many young people desperate for work opportunities.
To say, “I did not know,” like Seemah, or “Sorry, it wasn’t for money because I didn’t get paid,” like Cyan Boujee and then simply deleting the promotional videos as the rest of the content creators who worked on this campaign did – is not enough.
Influencers need to realize the influence they carry and do thorough research on all the campaigns they sign up for. Morals and ethics need to be heavier than ‘the bag’.
When all is said and done, young people need to be more responsible for their own lives. Your life is in your hands, not your trusted influencers’.
As a result of this incident, The Department of Justice, Crime Prevention, and Security has warned citizens to avoid relying solely on social media promotions.
Adding that people should verify job advertisements through official channels such as the Department of International Relations and Cooperation and contact South African embassies in the country where the job is based.
Type in “Alabuga Start programme” on any search engine, filter your search to news, you will find an article published by the Business & Human Rights Resource Centre in November 2024 regarding the human trafficking practices at Alabuga Start.
It goes without saying that both influencers and citizens need to do their research and read the news. Always remember – it is better to be safe than sorry.
Online gambling is turning into an addiction for South Africa’s young and vulnerable.
Gambling popularly takes place on casino floors, but now we have our very own slot machines in our back pocket. Over the past five years, youth gambling in South Africa has been on a steady increase, and for some has turned into full blown addiction.
From Betway to Hollywoodbets, South Africans have a varietyof platforms to place their bets. Constant marketing and social media screengrabs of other users’ wins, fueling participation.
A South African online research company, Infoquest, conducted a study in 2024, to track the habits of approximately 300 South African gamblers. In 2025, a follow-up study was conducted to indicate the various trends that took place over the period.
The study shows that online gaming and betting remain favourites among South Africans, aged 18- 35, while the National Lottery is popular among older gamblers.
As the Boomer generation slowly stops visiting casinos and the consumer numbers for casinos begins to decline, online gambling continues to surge.
In a country that has a high youth unemployment rate, sitting at 46.1% for those aged 15 –34 in the second quarter of 2025, it is not shocking to see a rise in fast money side quests and high gambling amongst the youth.
Celebrities and influencers are used to help promote and advertise these platforms. South Africa’s Springbok captain, Siya Kolisi, plays for the Sharks rugby team, a team which is sponsored by Hollywoodbets. This Sponsorship indirectly places Kolisi and other players in a position where they are associated with the platform.
Online gambling can be very addictive, as the platforms and their algorithms are designed to keep the consumer engaged for long periods of time. This can lead to increased financial risk-taking, which is often short-lived as they lose their money.
By applying game design elements to these platforms, gamers find enjoyment as they receive rewards, and this keeps them engaged and wanting to bet more often. Gamers can earn points, advance to other levels and receive rewards as an incentive to continue playing.
The National Gambling Board (NGB) needs to have tighter regulations in place to ensure that young South Africans can mitigate the risks of addiction from online betting.
Provincial Gambling Boards, should be granted the right to enforce regulations on gambling platforms, as they currently have no jurisdiction when it involves online gambling and betting, as these are under national jurisdiction. They should be able to monitor and audit online gambling platforms, regulate online marketing and advertising, and ensure compliance with existing regulations.
Online gambling poses severe risks. Urgent attention to this matter, transparent industry practices and stronger governmental regulations are essential in order to mitigate the harm that comes with online gambling.
FEATURED IMAGE: Bonolo Mokonoto. Photo: File/ Paul Botes
Connected through the stream but disconnected through ideology, the great ‘coloured’ debate.
Tyla has just released her new EP, WWP, with four songs.
Despite chatter that the EP is a ‘flop’, streaming numbers are soaring.
Many Americans refuse to respect South Africa’s ‘coloured’ history but demand respect for themselves.
The newly appointed ambassador for the South African coloured community, Tyla, has just released her new Extended Play (EP), yet the online conversation always seems to revert to her identity.
Tyla released her EP ‘We Wanna Party’ (WWP) a month ago and conversation has swirled, with discussions over whether the released music was a ‘flop’ or not. Short answer: it was not.
In an article written in OkayAfrica, it was stressed that in the digital age we can no longer measure an artist’s success through units of sold music, but rather, through number of streams, and Tyla’s streaming stats are soaring, with WWP gaining over 60 million streams on Spotify, according to the OkayAfrica.
This makes you wonder why narratives about her downfall have been spreading. Well, there is one persisting reason, she’s coloured, and African Americans don’t like – and refuse to understand – that.
Wits Vuvuzela spoke to Feven Merid, a student at Pitzer College in California who spent one month studying at Wits University earlier this year. Merid said, “I think that the way that she’s been received recently, especially with her new EP and how she has identified herself, has been mistargeted in a way.”
“Tyla, who proudly identifies with her South African culture, […] comes to the States, a place where slavery still has a very painful meaning for Black Americans, I think it kind of felt like a bit of a wound opening for many Black Americans,” she said.
The word ‘coloured’ in America, is associated with the segregated Jim Crow era. The one-drop rule was enforced, where anyone with the slightest bit of African DNA was classified as black tomaintain the purity of the white American race. So, in that context, Tyla is considered black.
The Root, an African American online magazine, attributed her EP’s perceived ‘flop’ and prospected future downfall to her racial identification, citing Joe Budden, a podcast host, who implied the ignorance of her youth caused the ‘mistake’.
“As a young artist in America, you should read the room,” he said.
However, as a South African and in a world that no longer solely caters to the US, why can’t mutual understanding and respect be foregrounded rather than forcing assimilation?
Rosey Gold, a European DJ living in South Africa, explained it well, saying that Tyla never expected Americans to use the terminology, she just expected an understanding of who she is and where she came from.
Significantly, Tyla’s audience is not limited to America. According to Music Metrics Vault, North America doesn’t even make up the top five of singer’s global streams. So, maybe Tyla isn’t the one who needs to ‘read the room’.
FEATURED IMAGE: South African artist, Tyla. Photo: Supplied/Wikipedia [WBNX-TV 55, CC BY 3.0 <https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0>, via Wikimedia Commons].
The pageantry of a National Convention is a spectacle of modern democracy. But beneath the carefully choreographed display of unity and optimism, a National Convention at its best is something far more profound. It is a stage for tough questions. But it can also be a stage for tragicomedy.
In a speech on the First Day of Convention on August 15, 2025, President Cyril Ramaphosa posed a question that left many South Africans baffled. “We need to ask ourselves why so many people live in abject poverty and so few live lives of opulence,” he said.
One would be forgiven for thinking that the President only landed in South Africa a few months ago. Perhaps it explains why the president’s response to any significant matters is to appoint a commission of inquiry. Our billionaire president is simply out of touch.
The expectation is often that when a country is in a crisis’ such as poverty and inequality, the current reality in South Africa, it is the President who is the first to act. To rise above the crisis, call for policy reform and offer practical solutions to the problem, closing the gaps, rather than asking about the symptoms of this much bigger problem.
The question is rhetorical, deflecting from his government’s role in these long standing and ongoing economic disparities which begs the question, if it is the President asking this question, then who is to answer?
For too long, the national conversation has been about symptoms and not the underlying sickness which is the corruption and mishandling of state funds by those in power and appointed by him. Therefore, it was not his place to ask this question; instead, his place is to come into the gathering with solutions.
The National Dialogue is the opportunity for the President and his cabinet to account for how it is that more that 30 years into democracy, the issue of poverty and inequality in South Africa is still front and centre in and outside of the National Dialogue spaces.
In South Africa, as of 2024 approximately 55.5% of the population lives below the National upper poverty line. This means that more than half of the population struggles to afford necessities, highlighting significant economic inequality.
Abject poverty in South Africa is a daily struggle fought in informal settlements and overcrowded townships, the family that shares a single room, children who go to bed hungry and the parents who are unemployed. It is the lack of clean water, the failing sanitation and the constant fear of crime. The numbers in this category represent much of our population.
When democracy arrived, the hope was that this system would be dismantled. While legal segregation ended, the infrastructure of inequality remains in place, a stubborn architect of our current reality. The question that remains with ordinary South Africans is why has equality not been achieved more than 30 years later?
President Ramaphosa’s question is a diagnosis of what has and continues to be the consequence of the rot that he has power over in government. To answer his own question would require a great sense of accountability for his contribution to the problem. The President posing the question without tangible solutions, inspires debate but offers little practical direction.
FEATURED IMAGE:
Zanele S. Maduma, 2025 Wits Vuvuzela Journalist. Photo: File/Paul Botes
As a student, budgeting is everything, but what happens when choosing cheap comes with human consequences?
A perfect morning: Well rested, clear mind, and Temu order en route. It’s a good day…but not for everyone.
At that very same moment, a clothing manufacturer, once with a booming business, now suffers the consequences of fast fashion, starting their morning by letting go of workers. And in a small town in China, a dedicated, but exploited, worker faces the toll of another 75-hour week. All working to satisfy eager consumers.
‘Smashing and grabbing’ the South African economy
Like a thunderstorm, Shein emerged in South Africa in 2020, and not so long after followed the lightening that is Temu, in 2024. Shoppers scrambled online following the movement toward cheap products.
Newzroom Africarecently reported that as Shein and Temu grow, more jobs in South Africa will be at risk, with News24 reporting that 8000 jobs have already been lost in the past four years. Adding insult to injury, the Localisation Support Fund (LSF) estimates that with Shein and Temu’s expansion into the local market, by the year 2030, 34 000 local jobs will be lost.
In an interview with Newzroom Africa, Simon Eppel of Southern Africa Clothing and Textile Workers’ Union (SACTWU) said, “This is not just a clothing, textile, footwear, and leather problem. Some of these platforms […] ship and sell other goods, so in fact this affects the entire economy.”
Eppel called this ‘smash-and-grab’ economics, “these online offshore retailers are conducting business in the country at all costs to us”. Simply put, Shein and Temu entered the market aggressively, attracted local consumers with low prices, and ate into the local market share.
Compounding the problem, according to the Daily Investor, Shein and Temu have been exploiting an import rule, allowing them to evade paying VAT on packages valued under R500. To level the playing field, however, SARS recently revised this rule, requiring all imported goods to pay both a 20% flat rate and the standard 15% VAT.
However, the humanitarian impact would remain.
75-hours later…
Early this year the BBC published an investigation into ‘Shein village’, where nests of garment factories are located, in the Panyu district of Guangzhou, China.
Speaking to workers and owners of 10 factories in the district, journalist Laura Bicker found that despite Chinese labour laws setting the working week limit at 40 hours, the Shein workforce charge through 75-hour long working weeks, which equates to 15 hours a day over five days or 12.5 hours over six days.
On top of this, low wages and the use of child labour add to the unethical labour practices at these factories.
Voices of young consumers
Wits Vuvuzela spoke to Thiko Rautshahalo, B.A. Law student, who said that she, “use[s] Shein and Temu for a certain aesthetic, when you go to [local stores] you just can’t find certain aesthetics, it’s also cheaper.”
Kirsten Calvert, Wits honours in psychology student, shared different sentiments about the company, saying, “I ordered clothes but sent them all back […] I realised that one quality thing is better than ten bad [quality] things.”
As students, it can be difficult to find clothing options that fit your style and are affordable, but there are many more sustainable alternatives, such as thrifting. On our very cown ampus we have Zaza Clothing, which you can find on the first floor in the matrix. Here you can shop sustainably while still keeping your budget in mind.
So, next time you click ‘purchase’ on Shein or Temu, consider what you are truly paying for.
South Africa’s falling birth rate is not an accident, it’s a choice as women’s aspirations are reshaping the future.
South Africa’s declining birth rate is more than just a statistic; it is a powerful indicator of a societal shift, driven by women demanding more for themselves.
According to the latest Mid-Year Population Estimates (MYPE) 2025 report by Stats SA, the Total Fertility Rate (TFR) in 2025 has fallen to an average of 2,21 children per woman, down from its peak in 2008 at 2,78 children per woman on average.
This downward trend is further supported in a recent study by Microtrends, which states that the South African birth rate for 2025 is 18.50 births per one thousand people, which is a 1.32% decline from 2024’s 18.75 births per one thousand people.
This decline is not merely a demographic trend, but signals societal transformation. There has been a mental and cultural shift in the attitudes towards parenthood. More and more South African women are choosing to delay or even relinquish having children altogether.
Research firm Eighty20 attribute this decline to a number of reasons including but not limited to: better access to healthcare and family planning, delayed marriages, and the cost of raising children. Most importantly, women have improved access to education.
With the scarcity of jobs and rising cost of living, raising a child is becoming increasingly expensive, especially in a country like South Africa where the high youth unemployment rate remains a critical issue.
It raises a particularly important question: can we truly afford the lives we imagine for ourselves, let alone for the next generation?
Historically, success for women was defined by marriage and bearing children, but traditional norms are now being challenged. The meaning of success has been redefined for the new generation of South African women.
As women make more informed choices, a new set of priorities is emerging. Many are now putting their education, careers, and personal growth first and pursuing financial independence, which these days is often referred to as ‘chasing the bag’.
While children are often considered a blessing, it would be irresponsible not to acknowledge the immense responsibility and personal sacrifice that come with raising a child. Parenting is a full-time commitment that often falls disproportionately on women. In a society where support systems are limited, many are questioning the feasibility of bringing a child into the world, not only for themselves but also for the child.
These cultural shifts are not just unique to South Africa, they echo global feminist movements such as South Korea’s 4B Movement, where women opt out of dating, marriage, sexual relations with men, and having children.
Although South African women may not fully embrace this approach, the underlying desire for autonomy and personal freedom is an indicator of how traditional norms are being challenged worldwide.
While it is important to celebrate the growing autonomy of South African women, we must also consider the implications for future generations. According to a report by The Organisation for Economic Co-operation and Development (OECD), declining birth rates often lead to ageing populations and eventually, shrinking workforces. Over time, societies may be faced with strained economic systems and social services such as grants and pension funds.
Whether women choose to embrace motherhood or not, at the heart of this transformation lies a simple, undeniable truth: women want more for themselves – they want better.
In the space of just a few weeks, South Africa has been shaken by a flurry of political scandals, arrests, assassinations, and suspensions that read like the script of a crime thriller. But this is not fiction. From the corridors of government to the backrooms of political parties, we are witnessing either the collapse of our democratic institutions or the long-overdue reckoning with the criminalisation of politics. The real question is: is the rot finally being exposed?
One of the explosive claims made by KwaZulu-Natal Police Commissioner Nhlanhla Mkhwanazi was that when Vusumuzi “Cat” Matlala was arrested, police discovered messages on his devices indicating he was receiving inside information from police “fixers”, including meetings arranged with suspended Police Minister Senzo Mchunu.
Cat Matlala, a name tied to shady tenders, including one linked to murdered whistleblower Babita Deokaran, has most recently received a tender with Tshwane SAPS. His case is not an outlier. It is part of a wider, disturbing pattern: police officials enabling criminal syndicates, with political figures complicit in the cover-up.
The suspension of Minister of Police Senzo Mchunu following Mkhwanazi’s damning claims is only the beginning. It is alleged that Mchunu protected criminal networks within the police turning the justice system into the very problem it should be solving. Journalist Mandy Wiener has called the positions of police minister and national commissioner a “poisoned chalice” and these revelations seem to prove it. Yet the idea of high-ranking police figures colluding with criminals is not new. Think Jackie Selebi and Radovan Krejcir. This is a cycle we have seen before.
Shortly after Mchunu’s suspension, Patriotic Alliance (PA) deputy leader Kenny Kunene, until recently a PR councillor in the City of Johannesburg, was found in the company of Katiso “KT” Molefe, the alleged mastermind behind DJ Sumbody’s assassination. Kunene claimed he was escorting a journalist – yet that journalist has never reported on what would have been the scoop of a lifetime: Kunene being found at Molefe’s house during the arrest.
Kunene resigned, and the mayor has claimed the city’s “hands are tied.” This incident is yet another glimpse into the entanglement of political office and gangsterism.
Meanwhile, Gauteng Police Commissioner Fannie Masemola is reported to have attempted to intervene in Matlala’s arrest corroborating Mkhwanazi’s assertion that parts of the police are proverbially in bed with criminals. The system is protecting itself.
This past week, the Minister of Higher Education, Nobuhle Nkabane, resigned after being accused of lying to Parliament’s portfolio committee regarding the appointment of SETA board members. Her resignation means she escapes the very accountability that parliamentary oversight was supposed to ensure.
These are not isolated incidents. The list grows longer: the assassination of whistleblowers and construction mafia figures, allegations within the ANC, U.S. Treasury sanctions, and a justice system that increasingly appears either captured or hollowed out.
It is no coincidence that as state capacity erodes, criminal networks rise. The ANC, weakened and divided, can no longer police its own ranks let alone govern ethically. Political office is being used to legitimise criminal empires. Today’s councillors were yesterday’s construction mafia bosses. And tomorrow’s ministers? Who knows.
So what? This erosion of the line between politics and crime puts South Africa on the brink. As citizens lose faith in democratic systems, they may begin to embrace authoritarianism or strongman figures who promise order through force. The Patriotic Alliance’s recent calls to reinstate the death penalty while its leaders are under scrutiny are telling.
President Cyril Ramaphosa has responded by firing some implicated officials and promising yet another commission of inquiry. But after years of unattended recommendations gathering dust on his desk, society has little reason to believe that justice will follow.
Firoz Cachalia, a former ANC politician and now a Wits law professor, has been appointed interim Police Minister. He enters a poisoned environment, one where few believe the rule of law still applies evenly. Will he win public confidence in a country where institutions seem broken?
This last month has exposed a web of criminality so vast and interconnected that each new scandal feels less shocking than the last. Viewed in isolation, these incidents may appear as individual failures but step back, and the picture becomes clearer: a democracy under siege from within.
We cannot afford to normalise this rot. The fight against corruption must be unrelenting – not just for the sake of good governance, but for the survival of our democracy.
Timothy Omotoso’s departure after a controversial acquittal highlights deep concerns about justice and accountability in South Africa.
The deportation of the televangelist Timothy Omotoso on May 18, 2025, marks yet another worrying pattern in South Africa’s criminal justice system: powerful people slipping away before full accountability is achieved.
Omotoso and his co-accused were acquitted on 32 charges of rape and human trafficking on 2 April 2025. However, instead of facing continued public scrutiny, Omotoso accepted voluntary deportation to Nigeria, just one day before the National Prosecuting Authority (NPA) confirmed its intention to appeal the ruling on May 19, 2025.
If the appeal is successful, South Africa would need to seek Omotoso’s extradition, which is often an uncertain process, given the country’s poor track record with high-profile cases.
This follows earlier failures, where the Gupta brothers remained abroad after their extradition was mishandled. Shepherd Bushiri fled to Malawi and has never returned.
These examples reflect a justice system where influential people evade accountability with ease. These unjust cases have left South Africans with a recurring sense that justice only applies selectively.
The Omotoso case cuts even deeper because it intersects with South Africa’s gender-based violence (GBV) crisis. Cheryl Zondi, one of the first witnesses to testify how she was raped at 14 by Omotoso, expressed her concerns, stating that “evil prevails in this world.”
Zondi’s courage, and the collective trauma relived by sexual assault survivors, was sidelined by the court’s technicalities and the prosecutor’s unpreparedness.
Even more heartbreaking is the murder of Pamela Mabini, a community activist who supported victims in the Omotoso case. She received death threats and was eventually gunned down, a tragic reminder of the cost of seeking justice in this country.
The deportation of Omotoso before further legal accountability could unfold reflects poorly on our criminal justice system.
It is not just about one man leaving the country, it’s about how systems of justice are ignored, and how suspects can escape scrutiny by deporting them rather than pursuing accountability and justice.
The NPA’s leave to appeal came after the 10-day deadline had passed, raising further questions about whether proper procedures were followed.
South Africa’s fight against GBV cannot be won if high-profile people are allowed to walk away without consequences. Justice must be seen, felt, and established.
FEATURED IMAGE: Likho Mbuka. Photo: File/Paul Botes
Journalists are working harder than ever, taking on multiple roles amid shrinking newsrooms, unstable contracts, and declining print revenue.
As a student journalist who recently began working in a newsroom environment, I have come to realise just how much weight comes with the byline. I used to think journalism was mainly about writing a good story, chasing quotes, and meeting deadlines. But now, being in the thick of it, I see that journalism is so much more; it is a full-body commitment to truth, community, and craft.
What has struck me the most is the sheer amount of work it takes to keep society informed. Behind every headline is a journalist juggling multiple roles – writer, editor, researcher, sometimes even photographer and videographer.
Newsrooms are shrinking, and the expectation is that one person should do the work of three.
According to an article by The Boca Raton Tribune, a major reason for this is the decline in print advertising revenue, which has long been a lifeline for newspapers. With less advertising money coming in, media houses struggle to sustain operations and staff.
This financial pressure trickles down to the newsroom, where fewer people are doing more, often for salaries that do not match the workload or the importance of the job.
From the conversations I have had with practicing journalists, it has become clear that job security in this field is fragile. Most of them are on year-long contracts that get renewed annually – but renewal is not guaranteed. That means one can lose their job at any time, and finding another one is not easy.
This is not just a South African issue. Across the world, finding and keeping a reporting job has become a real challenge. As Mary Paronyan highlighted, the problem is not the quality of journalists, but the job market itself.
Being a journalist is a role that carries great responsibility, but also great uncertainty. Still, the calling remains.
Journalism continues to be a lifeline for communities, a check on power, and a mirror to society. Even with its many challenges, this work matters. And as I learn to navigate it all, I carry that truth with me: journalism may not always reward one financially, but its impact is priceless.
FEATURED IMAGE: Nthabiseng Baloyi. Photo: File/Paul Botes
Local reality television mirrors a deeper societal truth, where marriage is still seen as a prize, men are the gatekeepers, and women carry the emotional cost of being “chosen.
The media frequently reflects societal values, challenges, and hidden realities. In South Africa, reality television programmes such as Makoti: Are You the One?Marry Me Now SA, andYou Promised to Marry Me highlight a lingering social problem: the imbalanced power dynamics in romantic relationships.
These programmes show that women are still required to demonstrate their value for marriage, whereas men possess the authority to determine whether that commitment takes place. Amid tears, conflicts, and public appeals, these shows expose a cultural truth where being “chosen” is a woman’s responsibility and a man’s choice.
South Africa’s obsession with marriage reality shows reveals more than just romantic drama, it exposes a deep-rooted gender power imbalance that places men as the ultimate decision-makers and women as the hopeful, often desperate seekers.
These shows are popular for a reason. Many South African women, especially in their late 20s and early 30s, are navigating a cultural terrain where marriage is still seen as the ultimate stamp of success. The ticking biological clock, family pressure, and patriarchal norms all converge to create a powerful sense of urgency and anxiety within these women.
In Makoti: Are You the One?, women go to their partner’s family homes for 21 days to prove they’re ready to be wives, performing household tasks, enduring awkward family interrogations, and sometimes facing humiliation.
Marry Me Now SA features women taking charge by proposing to their boyfriends after secretly planning the whole thing- only to sometimes be met with rejection.
You Promised to Marry Me, the Moja Love hit sees scorned women confront men who ghosted them after making promises of marriage. Each episode is a theatrical unmasking of betrayal, entitlement, and emotional manipulation.
These all mirror the way South African society often places a woman’s value in her ability to be chosen. They mirror the way many men are socialised to delay commitment, weaponize uncertainty, and maintain control. And they mirror the way we, as Africans, celebrate the idea of marriage but often ignore the emotional labour it demands from women to “earn” it.
Although these women are not forced to go on these shows and are driven by hope, love, or even desperation for closure, that choice is shaped by a deeper imbalance where men still hold the final say in whether a relationship becomes a marriage.
Polygamy reveals that men are the gatekeepers of marriage, and women are left negotiating love on uneven ground. I believe that is often used as a cultural excuse to justify emotional neglect, with women expected to accept sharing a partner in the name of tradition, even when it hurts.
Marriage, in this world, is not a mutual milestone, it’s a trophy, and women are expected to compete for it.
While it’s easy to dismiss these shows as mindless entertainment or scripted drama, why are women constantly put in positions where they must prove themselves? Why do so many of these shows feature women doing the proposing, begging, or exposing while men remain emotionally unavailable, detached, or even smug?
Of course, not all men are commitment-phobic, and not all women want marriage. But the overwhelming narrative across our screens still casts men as the guards and women as the petitioners. This has real consequences for how viewers, especially young people, understand relationships, self-worth, and gender roles. Over time, these messages shape how young people view love not as a partnership, but as a performance where one is always auditioning to be chosen.
Will we ever have peace and friendship within and across our borders? In this episode of We Should Be Writing, the Vuvu team takes on the final promise of the Freedom Charter: There shall be peace and friendship. We unpack how this vision clashes with the growing issue of xenophobia in South Africa today. Our guests […]
