Mental healthcare in erratic eGoli

As an overwrought Johannesburg continues to address rampant apartheid hang-ups, the responsibility of ensuring citizens’ equitable access to mental healthcare often falls on under-resourced, overburdened, yet empathetic providers struggling to meet demand.

If you’re looking for mental health support in Johannesburg, where exactly should you turn? Should you ask people you know for help – and would they judge if you did? Should you head to the nearest clinic, unsure if they’d assist with an invisible problem? What if you can’t afford help or medication? What if you’d rather look up alternative options online? How would you know the right service to select when seemingly infinite options appear in a Google search for “psychologist Johannesburg”? Although it’s been 30 years since the end of apartheid, South Africa’s young democracy is still trying to escape the shadows left by unjust and inhumane policies. These shadows not only obscure economic equality, but persist through generational trauma, haunting the collective psyche of South Africans to this day. To explore how Johannesburg, the country’s most-populated city, could set a national blueprint ensuring adequate mental healthcare access, we must first understand the people behind the service who navigate through troubled waters, trying to make a difference.

The promises of post-apartheid mental healthcare

For South Africa to overcome its traumatic past, it is essential for all citizens to have equitable access to mental healthcare. This principle was acknowledged by the country’s first democratically elected government and is clearly articulated in the policies it introduced. 

On December 10 1996, then president Nelson Mandela signed the newly drafted South African Constitution, which became the “highest law of the land”, acting as the direct reference and regulator of all subsequent laws and policies. The Bill of Rights, contained in its second chapter, was drafted as a tool to define and monitor South African citizens’ human rights. Two enshrined rights that concern the state of mental healthcare are the right to “equality” and the right to “human dignity”. These are essential reference points, because they highlight the emphasis the government placed on ensuring that all citizens have equal access to adequate healthcare.

This broad emphasis on health was refined to address mental health concerns with the passing of the Mental Health Care Act in 2002. Among other stipulations, the Act promised to ensure that “various categories of mental health care users” were granted “[co-ordinated] access to mental health”. It also aimed to integrate mental healthcare “into the general health services environment”. For countless generations, previous governments blatantly mistreated the majority of South Africa’s citizens; in contrast, the introduction of these regulations acted as a sign of the new government’s solidarity with them.

However, despite these various renewed governmental policies, the tangible challenges that South Africans continue to face on a day-to-day basis, whether crime, economic pressures or systemic inequality, can muddy the public’s idea of mental healthcare. Because mental health is largely intangible, “fixing” a mental health issue feels more like a luxury than a necessity. This reticence to seek help means that 75% of South Africans actively struggling with mental illnesses do not receive the help they need. Meanwhile, the abundance of everyday stressors can be exacerbated by people’s mental health issues, trapping these seemingly dissimilar problems in an indefinite loop of re-aggravation.

Figure 1: A representation highlighting the disparity between need and access to mental healthcare in South Africa and Gauteng. This is layered on top of a silhouette of an old mining headgear on the outskirts of Johannesburg CBD, with an image of a brain intersecting it.

In 2023 South Africa ranked third last of all measured countries by average mental health quotient, which is an online assessment tool used to “provide [a] comprehensive assessment of mental wellbeing”. The Mental State of the World report also found that South Africa had the second-highest proportion of respondents classified as “distressed or struggling”. These rankings are concerning, particularly considering the emphasis placed on improving the quality of, and access to, mental healthcare in the previous decades.

The incongruence between well-meaning government policies introduced in the hopeful past, and the current reality of overwhelming mental health issues that have not been addressed, is a theme that has persisted in Johannesburg and manifests in damaging ways.

Life Esidimeni: How to learn from the recent past

There is no mental-health policy failure in Johannesburg in the past 30 years that stands out as glaringly as the Life Esidimeni tragedy, when the most vulnerable people in society were neglected and left to rot as a consequence of government action. 

In 2015, the Gauteng department of health cut ties with the Life Esidimeni hospital, which provided extended care and housing to thousands of psychiatric patients. The department of health aimed to relocate these patients to various nongovernmental organisations (NGOs) across the province. This decision followed the department of health’s recently introduced Mental Health Policy Framework, which, from 2013 until 2020, aimed to develop “community-based” mental health services like NGOs by deinstitutionalising mental healthcare services like Life Esidimeni hospital. However, this decision could also be explained more simply by the department’s need to “save costs”. 

In a vacuum, these promises of governmental support and collaboration with NGOs appear to be beneficial developments for impoverished communities struggling to provide adequate healthcare. However, in reality the NGOs these patients were relocated to were not properly screened, either being woefully under-equipped or “fraudulently approved” to house psychiatric patients. This ignored the department’s framework to ensure citizens with access to adequate mental health services through “[the establishment of] a monitoring and evaluation system”. This mass rehousing ultimately resulted in 144 psychiatric patients dying from neglect and improper care.

This lack of mental healthcare access and resources is particularly damning given that the Life Esidimeni tragedy occurred in Gauteng, South Africa’s wealthiest province, which houses 45% of all registered South African mental health professionals.

Figure 2: A graphic representing how even with the overwhelming proportion of mental health professionals operating in Gauteng, the province is still under-equipped. The graph is layered over an image of the Johannesburg skyline, with a gamma brain wave intersecting it.

In the aftermath of the tragedy, the department of health’s revised Mental Health Framework, has sought to address the issues overlooked by the previous framework, now promising to ensure that “community mental health services will be scaled up to match recommended national norms”. Recently, Gauteng MEC for health and wellness, Nomantu Nkomo-Ralehoko, also committed almost half a billion rand to “improve mental-healthcare infrastructure and services across the province” this financial year.

A renewed focus on mental-health services appears to be a step in the right direction for Johannesburg. However, will this promise truly serve to assist those on the front lines of mental healthcare in the city, or will it simply prove empty once again?

Policy and regulations touting to improve mental healthcare access are an important first step, but they cannot stand on their own. The implementation of these ideas in real-world scenarios is the true test and, to understand the context in which they are applied, one must first understand the different types of mental healthcare in Johannesburg, as well as the various challenges the people running these facilities face.

Unlike physical ailments, because mental illnesses are often ‘invisible’, it can be more difficult to grasp and confront them. The first step on the road to recovery is identifying the problem and realising the need to address it. The next step is often the most challenging: accepting that doing so requires external help. It can prove difficult to ask for help due to a variety of cultural and societal norms that create stigmas around mental healthcare.

Mental health stigma is rife throughout society: one place where they commonly persist and do much harm is within tertiary institutions. Universities are educational spaces, meant to inform and prepare students to tackle problems they face in the real world. However, according to the University of the Witwatersrand’s (Wits) Counselling and Careers Development Unit (CCDU), it is an ongoing process to deconstruct these stigmas during the time in people’s lives when they need the most mental-health attention. According to a study on adolescent mental health, it was found that 75% of people with mental illnesses develop their disorder before turning 24.

Figure 3: A set of self-help tips geared towards vulnerable students. This guide is layered on top of a silhouette of Johannesburg’s skyline with an image of a smiling sun intersecting it.

The CCDU is a free counselling service offered to Wits students, aimed at addressing mental-health concerns, as well as providing academic assistance and preparing students for life outside campus.

“People think that when you are seen coming to CCDU… you have problems,” says Lynette Sikhakhane, a CCDU psychologist. Sikhakhane says what stops many students from seeking out the CCDU is that “culturally… there’s a belief that you man up” instead of admitting to needing help. Highlighting a major misconception about therapy, Sikhakhane states that many students expect therapy to instantly “fix” their problems, when it is actually an incremental process of enabling self-understanding.

CCDU advocacy team leader, Vinoba Krishna says the unit aims “to incorporate the voices of students” into the mental-health assistance it provides. Part of this is dispelling misinformed expectations around counselling and therapy through effective communication and psychoeducation, as outlined in Higher Health’s mental health programme

Krishna states that, despite the CCDU’s best intentions, “we aren’t able to do the work just by ourselves”, because of a lack of direct funding for mental health. He also emphasises the need to collaborate with “different stakeholders on and off campus” to ensure the best results for students.

A CCDU sign outside of their head offices on Wits West Campus. Photo: Tristan Monzeglio

The South African Depression and Anxiety Group (Sadag) has similar aspirations to help people in need and destigmatise mental health in South Africa in the face of limited resources. Sadag is a non-profit organisation that provides counselling via 24-hour toll-free emergency helplines and community-driven initiatives. 

Fatima Seedat, a Sadag development manager, says that for all South Africans to have equitable access to mental healthcare “a collective effort” is required from the government, civil society and NGOs. Seedat argues it is impossible to follow the “beautiful strategic framework” outlined by the government when “every year the healthcare budget decreases”. 

The treasury cutting budgets across the board this past financial year also affected the department of social development, which cut even more funding from desperate mental-health NGOs.

The lack of funding available to Sadag and other mental-health providers highlights the inequality of access South Africans face. Naledi Nzimande, a Sadag volunteer councillor, says that “the most challenging calls” are when she wants to refer callers to professional help, but there aren’t any mental health resources nearby. Stephanie Gladwin, also a Sadag volunteer councillor, reiterates that the level of mental healthcare individuals receive is, in many ways, directly tied to levels of income. “If you’ve got money, it’s not a problem… South Africa has some fantastic mental-health professionals – it’s just reaching them that’s the only issue,” she says.

SADAG Volunteer Counsellor, Tevin Sutcliffe, on the phone to a hotline caller. Photo: Tristan Monzeglio

To combat this unequal access, Sadag has installed counselling containers in Diepsloot and Ivory Park, where they offer face-to-face counselling inside converted shipping containers. Seedat says this project aims “to fill the gap where it’s needed” in vulnerable spaces in Johannesburg.

When comparing mental-healthcare access in the public and private sectors, the disparity between funding and resources is stark. For example, about 80% of South African psychiatrists work in private practice. Although most South Africans access mental healthcare through the public sector, private mental-health services that offer specialised solutions to fill niche gaps in care are also important.

A video covering SADAG’s community based care and, specifically, their Counselling Container project. Video: Tristan Monzeglio

Private music therapist, Graeme Sacks, who operates in Parktown, believes his practice enables him to be sensitive to his client’s needs. “We’re all musical beings… [and music therapy] is a wonderful way to tap into people’s emotions,” he says.

As Sacks puts it, music therapy is an “evidence-based practice”, which uses “music towards clinical goals”, but in practice it’s less stringent. He says, as a music therapist, it’s about concerning yourself with “the situation that [clients have] grown up in” by “trying to find out about their culture, their musical taste”, without ever “imposing our stuff on them”.

This tailored approach to therapy offers clients individualised care and, if music therapy were available in the public sector, it would be a practical means to provide many South Africans with the specific help they require. Sacks says that “most medical aids don’t pay for arts therapies” and that, currently, “there are no arts therapists in public health”. This absence of access to arts therapy is a missed opportunity for the public healthcare system to provide equitable access to a niche form of specialised care.

Music Therapist, Graeme Sacks, playing piano in his office where he treats all manner of people with the power of music. Photo: Tristan Monzeglio

Some specialised care in the public sector is available, at Johannesburg’s Tara Hospital, which is a publicly funded psychiatric hospital. It provides specialised care to referred patients who cannot be adequately treated at secondary and tertiary hospitals.

Senior occupational therapist and acting assistant director at Tara, Savannah Levi, believes that in Johannesburg, and South Africa at large, “What’s so hard about accessing mental healthcare, is that there are so many points, but none of those points correlate or integrate with each other.” Levi argues that the policies and ideas meant to integrate a variety of services are based on sound frameworks, but their lack of real-world implementation highlights the “disconnect” between theoretical and practical application.

Levi says Tara’s specialised service offers “a very protective environment for the patients”, meaning that sometimes they “don’t want to leave”. This highlights the benefit that specialised care affords people in need which, in theory, all citizens should have access to. However, Tara has only 140 beds and limited staff due to the high level of training requirements and capped job availability.

Outside of Tara Hospital in Hurlingham, with Sandton in the background. Photo: Tristan Monzeglio

A new destination

Despite the government’s multiple continued failings in the broad mental-health landscape, hope still persists in those people willing to take up the struggle. Mental-healthcare providers aren’t required only to help people experiencing mental anguish, they’re expected to do so while juggling external economic and cultural challenges, on top of taking care of themselves. Although well-meaning mental health policies are important, what’s even more important is that they are actually implemented. In the best interests of the South African citizens, it is essential for all stakeholders to minimise confusion and collaborate towards a single goal, so that the people who need help the most are not forgotten.

Touring the city: Then vs now

The face of tourism has undergone a makeover since the dawn of democracy some 30 years ago, but whether it is a big enough change remains to be seen.

Stepping off a monstrously sized and noisy aeroplane at Johannesburg’s OR Tambo International Airport, warm air blows into your face. Your eyes squint while trying to adjust to the blinding sunlight. There is an immediate atmosphere of hustle and bustle, and you can hear several different languages being spoken around you. 

Touring the city, you make your first stop at the Johannesburg Zoo for a glimpse of the Big Five up close and personal. A stroll around the Botanical Gardens leaves you parched, so you find yourself on Vilakazi Street for some authentic South African food and beverages. Feeling adventurous, you abseil down the Soweto Towers and ride a bicycle through the Johannesburg central business district and its arty Maboneng Precinct.

The next day, you hike through the Melville Koppies, visit the Apartheid Museum, cheer on a rugby game at Emirates Airline Park (previously Ellis Park Stadium), and enter a time capsule by exploring Mandela’s House and Liliesleaf

You have an early flight out tomorrow morning, but there is still so much left to uncover; so much more still to experience. 

However, looking down at the skyscrapers from your tiny aeroplane window, you realise something: if you had visited Johannesburg 30 years ago, the city would still be bustling with tourism, but you would view all the attractions through the eyes of a fractured society.

The Soweto Towers are the peak of adventure tourism in Johannesburg, with the tiny bridge offering a unique bungee jumping experience to locals or internationals. Photo: Victoria Hill

Contextualising tourism: More than 30 years in the making

Tourism has existed for centuries, even if it constantly redefines itself. Tourism did not become a concept only when trains, boats, cars or aeroplanes were invented. People have been moving from one place to another for different reasons for as long as mankind has inhabited the Earth, which is one early definition of tourism. 

Tourism is different from expeditionism in the sense that tourists follow set paths or visit already discovered areas. Tourism can thus be for business, sports, medical, leisure, cultural or religious purposes. 

Geoffrey Wall and John Towner say the history of tourism encompasses three themes: tourism in the ancient and medieval worlds, the Grand Tour era of the 17th and 18th centuries, and the growth of spas and seaside resorts.

These themes have some factors in common, mainly that individuals who participated in these kinds of tourism were powerful and wealthy.

Until 1994, tourism in South Africa had these two commonalities as well. Only people of an upper-class, white status could indulge in movement from one place to another. Black individuals were issued with a dompas: an internal passport that restricted their movement on foot. Thus, they could not indulge in free travel around a city like Johannesburg, never mind for leisure to a seaside resort. 

This is what led to the White Paper of 1996, which described “diversity [as] where the country’s tourism attraction lies” and stated that the end of apartheid “opened the country’s tourism potential to the rest of the world and, indeed, to the previously neglected groups in society”. 

Yet, tourism only really redefined itself in later years. Black people were now granted human rights, but they could not exercise in these rights until they were given a platform to practise them.  

Itumeleng Rabotapi, director of strategic management, monitoring and evaluation at the department of tourism, says: “The above advantages notwithstanding, South Africa has not been able to realise its full potential in tourism. As such, the contribution of tourism to employment, small business development, income and foreign-exchange earnings has been limited.”

The White Paper says: “Had its history been different, South Africa would probably have been one of the most-visited places in the world.”

Johannesburg is seen as a microcosm of South Africa in this report, which investigates whether touring the city has changed since democratisation or if it will take 30 more years to master. 

State of tourism pre-1994

If you went back in time to revisit apartheid South Africa, you would find a vastly different City of Johannesburg than the one to which you are accustomed.

A tourist in South Africa was typically a white, wealthy, powerful individual or family. To take part in tourism activities pre-1994, academic IB Mkhize explains that a person needed to have disposable income, leisure time, means of transport, freedom of movement, access to facilities and destinations to visit. The apartheid regime deprived all South Africans, except white people, of these things.

Jane Skipsey, a former hotel general manager and guesthouse owner, says: “The hotel industry was very glamorous in the 1980s, with lots of glitz. The five-star Carlton Hotel [now closed] in downtown Johannesburg was buzzing with international guests.”

Academic Christian Rogerson says the crisis tourism experienced until 2010 has roots in the policies of apartheid. He places emphasis on the Soweto Uprising of 1976 and the declaration of a state of emergency in the 1980s, which led to South Africa being politically isolated from the rest of the world. 

However, despite this, Skipsey says, “Business still had to be conducted and holidays were still taken. There were not that many prominent hotel groups at the time and Southern Sun dominated the market, with business and leisure hotels aplenty.”

Justyn Spinner, managing director of Hello Lifestyle Magazine (formerly Hello Joburg, Hello Cape Town, Hello Durban and Hello Pretoria), says that in the 1980s, when his father pioneered the company, “There were no reliable sources of lifestyle and entertainment content.” 

This is what inspired Spinner senior to create a guidebook-style publication featuring lifestyle and attraction spots in Johannesburg. It was targeted at people who had the freedom of movement and choice to partake in leisure activities. 

Christo Nicolopoulos, a restaurateur in Johannesburg, says that pre-1994, “The process of opening a restaurant was less bureaucratic.” Nicolopoulos opened many high-end restaurants and he was also involved in “black eating houses… and opened the first eating house with proper plates and knives and forks in Kempton Park”. 

“Black eating houses”, or restaurants for black people, show the depth of apartheid segregation in the tourism sector. Black people were not granted access to mainstream tourism activities and were often left undignified and underprivileged in what they could pursue for leisure. 

Although Johannesburg was a world-class city with beautiful hotels and restaurants that international businesspeople or tourists would travel to see, its status was maintained on the foundation of apartheid. 

State of tourism post-1994

The numbers say South Africa’s tourism sector has been on the mend since 1994. With international sanctions lifted, and the eyes of the world on South Africa’s new democratic state, tourism experienced a boom. 

The inception of South African Tourism also helped to rebrand the country and manage its reputation. The body was instituted with the hope of allowing historically disadvantaged South Africans to benefit from the sector.

Rogerson says, “Domestic rather than international tourism is the backbone of the South African tourism economy. While the major component is accounted for by white South Africans, steady growth is occurring in the black tourism sector.” 

The tourism industry is more diverse now in terms of ownership and clientele. The introduction of small to medium-sized enterprises and the department of tourism’s enterprise development and transformation programme allowed locally made products and services to enter the tourism market. 

One example is the Yeoville Dinner Club, pioneered by Sanza Sandile. For Sandile, who grew up in apartheid Soweto, this dinner club “has become a vision and a direction of [his] childhood dream”. After moving to Yeoville at the dawn of democracy, he wanted to redefine what was once called “a derogatory shebeen in [his] grandmother’s day”.

Sandile’s dinner club “is about celebrating this piece of history through food socials”. The dinner club has “enjoyed a whole mix of international guests and real local foodies from a slightly higher LSM [Living Standards Measure]”.  

Locals often describe Yeoville – and Hillbrow – as the geographical centres of deterioration and crime. However, Sandile says his patrons view the now “accidental pan-African suburb” as “one of the most popular cultural and topical spaces in Johannesburg”.

Despite being described as the cultural heartbeat of Johannesburg, Rocky Street in Yeoville also represents the decay of infrastructure in the tourism sector post-1994. Photo: Victoria Hill

Nicolopoulos says black economic empowerment policies created a group of black diners, colloquially known as “Black Diamonds”, who enjoy splurging on champagne and cognac on occasion. 

A tourist of colour who often frequents the streets of Johannesburg is 21-year-old Uyanda Tyusha. After growing up in Johannesburg, Tyusha moved to Stellenbosch to finish his tertiary education. 

He says: “Having previously lived in Johannesburg, I often travel back to visit friends and family… I mostly find myself going out for something to eat, either lunch or dinner… I also go to attend musical festivals or concerts… I am interested in.” 

As a student on a tight budget, Tyusha dreams of “visiting the lesser-travelled areas in the country and discover[ing] more” in years to come.

Being a Born Free, Tyusha “can’t image having restrictions on the sort of travelling that [he] does”. He says if had been born during apartheid he “would most likely be restricted to movement within [or] between the townships”. There would be no chance of him visiting an establishment like the Yeoville Dinner Club.

At the National Job Summit in 1998, tourism was recognised as “the sector which had the greatest potential for reducing unemployment in the country”, Rogerson says. This potential was envisaged as manifesting through community-based initiatives and township, rural and cultural tourism. 

Tourism in Johannesburg now has an economic, social, political, cultural and educational value. In 2024, the city has endless tourist attractions, most either born from apartheid, in remembrance of apartheid and the people who lived under it, or an attempt to advantage previously disadvantaged people.

Tourism as a a socioeconomic sector

According to the 1996 White Paper, South Africa relies on tourism to increase the rate of employment, promote equality in all aspects of society, and contribute to the overall gross domestic product (GDP) and investment in the country’s economy.

South African Tourism, the marketing arm of the department of tourism, says tourism promotes “the sustainable economic and social empowerment of all South Africans”. Tourism is a multi-sectoral industry, which means its growth allows multiple sectors to grow too and for more jobs to be created. 

The White Paper found that tourism contributed 2% to the GDP in 1994, which increased to 4% in 1995. In 2024, Statistics South Africa (Stats SA) says tourism contributes an estimated 8.8% to the GDP. In 30 years, tourism has more than doubled its contribution to the economy. 

Spinner says “we should see the tourism industry as a major contributor to our GDP”, due to its diverse offerings and the welcoming culture of our country to international visitors.

There were an estimated 70,000 working in the sector in 1994 and 1.7 million in 2024. Globally, one in every nine jobs is in the tourism sector, which is about 10.7% of the global workforce. 

Skipsey says there is still a massive educational divide that limits equality in the tourism sector’s workforce. The majority of management positions were previously held by white people and unskilled positions were given to people of colour.

“This started to change with employment equity, brought about by the new government post-1994,” Skipsey says. “There are still hurdles. Some black South Africans are assigned jobs for which they are not qualified and this can end up messy.” 

Rogerson estimates that 50,000 international tourists visited South Africa in 1986. When 1994 rolled around, the White Paper estimates South Africa welcomed 4.48 million international tourists. Stats SA estimates this number to be 10.7 million in 2024. 

Stats SA says tourism is set to grow 7.6% annually over the next decade. This is above the overall economic growth rate of 1.8%. 

To residents of Johannesburg, this might come as a shock. The city is not seen as glamorous by its inhabitants, but rather as deteriorating by the second. 

Restaurateur Nicolopoulos says, “our economic hub, Johannesburg, is avoided by tourists”, due to the “lack of law and order, corruption and high levels of crime”. The city has simply become “a transit port of entry for Cape Town and the Kruger National Park”.  

Overall, the department of tourism’s Rabotapi says tourism is “well-positioned to link under-developed regions with the developed ones as it transcends spatial and geographic boundaries”.

Tourism has a unique ability to promote and maintain harmony on the premise of a shared love for one’s country.

A peek into the next 30 years

Although tourism is classed as a leading socioeconomic sector in today’s South Africa, it still has unlocked potential. 

Rabotapi says: “Growth of tourism to and within South Africa requires the portfolio to provide an enabling environment.”

This includes improving tourism assets and infrastructure, ensuring tourism safety and access to basic services, and developing a culture of travel among South Africans so the sector is supported domestically. 

Throughout South Africa’s 1.27 million square kilometres, Johannesburg’s province of Gauteng takes up a mere 18,000. Yet, it has made significant strides in transforming the tourism sector during the 30 years of democracy.

Touring the city was once a privilege; now, doing so is a reminder of what humanity went through to be alive today.

FEATURED IMAGE: Johannesburg is known for the spotting of Jacaranda trees all about its suburbs, and they have become a tourist attraction in Spring time. Photo: Victoria Hill

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The collapse of Johannesburg’s service delivery

Nearly 30 years into democracy, the city of gold’s residents face the harsh reality of a broken service delivery system.

Imagine living in a city that was once hailed as the economic titan of Africa but is now subject to the daily indignity of deteriorating infrastructure. Even after 30 years of democratic governance, persistent power cuts, erratic water supplies, roads riddled with potholes, and uncollected garbage have become unfortunate realities for many Johannesburg residents. The aspirational goals of equality, liberty and socioeconomic progress appear increasingly unattainable to some people.

For individuals like Maureen Ncube, this is the hard truth. “We are struggling, we do not have electricity,” Ncube says. “We are stranded in the informal settlements.” In Kanana Extension Four – an informal settlement located northeast of central Johannesburg in Rabie Ridge – Ncube, a mother of eight, lives in a humble home where poor service delivery makes it challenging for her to manage her daily tasks. Her home – built from discarded materials and sheets of corrugated iron – sits just a few feet away from a stream of sewage.

It’s a typical Saturday morning in the settlement, alive with the sounds and colours of township life. The scene is both vibrant and unsettling. Outside Ncube’s home, the stench of sewage is overpowering: a mix of decaying waste, stagnant water and rotting refuse, with dead rats occasionally floating by. The communal tap stands right next to the sewage, forcing residents to fetch water while the smell lingers heavily in the air. Children run around barefoot, oblivious to the health risks that lie in the murky water they splash through.

Residents are left in the dark on certain days when the electricity is totally cut off. In addition, they must frequently go without water on days when the supply runs out due to leaking communal taps. Like millions of other Jo’burg residents, Ncube and her children rely on these basic services to survive. With every dry tap, power outage and pile of uncollected garbage, she is reminded of just how much Johannesburg’s service delivery has failed its people.

Numerous locals such as Ncube face a daily dilemma: either deal with water scarcity or spend money on expensive private water supplies. Their physical health is negatively affected by the unreliability of critical services, and their everyday lives are overshadowed by the emotional toll of living in uncertainty. As they negotiate a system that has repeatedly let them down, families are left anxious by the constant fear of upcoming power outages or water problems.

The Municipal Systems Act gave rise to organisations like City Power and Johannesburg Water in the early 2000s. Section 73(1)(c) of the Act emphasises that municipalities must ensure “universal access to essential services that are affordable to all” and move progressively toward “the provision of basic services to all our people, specifically the poor and disadvantaged”. The Act saw Johannesburg Water and City Power as essential providers of reliable and reasonably priced services that supported the constitutional goal of fostering equitable development.

City Power and Johannesburg Water were expected to adhere to the Act’s mandates for financial sustainability and community engagement. Section 73(2)(b) requires that municipalities provide services “in a financially and environmentally sustainable manner”. Despite their mandates to offer affordable services, City Power and Johannesburg Water have encountered both financial and operational challenges. Mismanagement and rising expenses have made it more difficult for these organisations to achieve their initial objectives.

A Kanana resident tries to navigate through the uncollected waste. Picture: Rivaldo Jantjies.

City Power and Johannesburg Water were established to improve service delivery in Johannesburg; however, they have not met their objectives. The Municipal Systems Act, section 95(c), mandates municipalities to maintain sound financial management to ensure sustainable services. However, these state-owned entities have been embroiled in corruption and mismanagement. 

An August City Press article reported that auditor-general Tsakani Maluleke’s 2022-23 report raised significant concerns about financial mismanagement in the City of Johannesburg. The City retained its previous year’s unqualified audit opinion with findings, yet issues of poor financial management persisted, according to City Press. In addition, a July Mail & Guardian report highlighted allegations that City Power and Pikitup have been heavily tainted by corruption and political interference. Prominent ANC leaders are accused of compromising public services by capturing the city-owned companies for their own benefit. Investigations into the entities are under way for anomalies in tenders that led to poor service delivery. Patronage networks have allegedly been strengthened by these actions, which are believed to have enriched certain politicians at the expense of taxpayers and the construction of vital infrastructure.

Section 73(2)(c) of the Municipal Systems Act requires services to be financially and environmentally sustainable, but the deteriorating infrastructure suggests otherwise. For instance, Coronationville has faced weeks without water, leading to protests as frustrated residents demand their basic rights. A recent Daily Maverick report found that Coronationville depends on the Hursthill 1 Reservoir, which is facing severe operational challenges and structural decay, resulting in major water losses. Similar issues plague Kanana, where residents endure recurring blackouts and broken water-supply systems, despite the initial goal outlined by these state-owned entities to provide equitable service delivery. The common thread for these failures is a lack of transparency and accountability.

Political analyst Ebrahim Harvey argues that service-delivery issues in Johannesburg stem from external pressures placed on local leadership. According to Harvey, the World Bank played a role in pushing ANC councillors and officials toward restructuring municipal services in the early ’90s. He adds, “The World Bank is the place that put pressure on the ANC councilors and leadership to go the route to collapse all the services in the municipalities.” The foundation for future initiatives and economic changes in South Africa was established by the World Bank as early as the 1990s. To prepare South African officials for the Bank’s possible participation in local projects, should an interim government request this, the Bank held policy seminars and capacity-building workshops, as well as conducting informal economic research.

Two Kanana residents, Moitheri Tau and Tembi Elizabeth Mokwele, publicly voice their dissatisfaction and disenchantment with the city’s inadequate services. 

Tau, who has lived in the area since 1993, describes a daily struggle for electricity and safety. She explains that residents connect power cables to a nearby transformer. “We don’t have electricity and the service delivery is poor. We connected ourselves illegally after City Power disconnected us,” she admits, pointing out the dangers of living without basic services. “Our children use candlelight to study, but when they fall asleep, the candles set the shacks on fire. One burning shack can cause 14 more to catch fire,” she says.

Mokwele emphasises the unsanitary conditions in which they live. “There’s dirty water everywhere and it makes our children sick,” she says, sitting outside her home. She is enjoying a lively conversation with her neighbors, laughing and cracking jokes, despite the dire situation. Mokwele speaks of her frustration with the government’s repeated promises during election cycles, only for these promises to be forgotten afterwards. “We vote and every time they promise us better living conditions, but nothing happens,” she says. 

Both Tau and Mokwele, like many other residents, are desperate for change, pleading for electricity, RDP housing and basic services to ensure their safety and dignity.

The frustration with Johannesburg Water and City Power is not limited to informal settlements, but extends across the city. On Johannesburg Water’s X page, complaints are rampant. One resident expressed outrage after being left without water for days, saying, “We have no water for two days! You just shut off the water without any plan. It’s ridiculous and unacceptable.” Another user echoed this sentiment, frustrated by the repeated failures: “You clearly don’t serve Jo’burg… Why is it taking so long? Why can you never get it fixed correctly the first time?”

The alarming decay of Johannesburg’s water infrastructure is driving the city toward a potential ‘Day Zero’. This raises serious concerns about management and upkeep. In June News24 reported that Rand Water’s maintenance problems make it difficult for Johannesburg Water to satisfy demand, which leads to frequent supply interruptions. The prolonged timescale for these upgrades raises concerns, even while efforts are being made to enhance and modernise water infrastructure to mitigate these problems. Why has it taken so long to fix and improve vital water infrastructure that millions of people depend on every day after more than 30 years of democracy?

Similarly, the City Power X page is filled with complaints from residents affected by constant power outages. One exasperated user shared their frustration, saying, “Every week it’s the same story… whenever Kanana has no power, we are also affected – this is ridiculous! Matriculants are writing exams, how are they supposed to study?” Another commenter highlighted the effect on their livelihood: “Getting fired for always making the same electricity excuse. Working from home is a nightmare.” These posts reflect the widespread discontent across Johannesburg, as both water and electricity services fail to meet residents’ most basic needs.

Kanana household’s illegal electricity connections hang over an informal pathway. Picture: Rivaldo Jantjies

In vulnerable communities like Kanana, the breakdown of service delivery in Johannesburg has aggravated socioeconomic disparities. Dr Morné Oosthuizen, chief research officer at the Development Policy Research Unit of the University of Cape Town, explains that whereas wealthier households can adapt by installing solar panels or purchasing bottled water, poorer households are left with no such alternatives. “Poor households are much more constrained than better-off households in their ability to insulate themselves from poor service delivery,” Oosthuizen notes. This inability to access basic services not only deepens inequality, but also compromises efforts to reduce multidimensional poverty. As Oosthuizen puts it: “Basic services typically serve to reduce inequalities – if you look at multidimensional poverty [and] inequality measures, which include these kinds of services, you will see relatively low rates of multidimensional poverty and lower inequality levels.”

The collapse of infrastructure also raises operating costs for businesses. Oosthuizen says, “There is real potential for this phenomenon to raise costs for employers – for example, they need to install solar panels, or they need to repair vehicles more frequently because of higher wear and tear – putting pressure on their ability to remain competitive.” This added burden weakens local economies, further limiting employment opportunities and driving up costs for businesses already struggling to cope with unreliable services.

In the long term, Johannesburg’s infrastructure problems are discouraging business investment and pushing skilled labour out of the city. The South African Chamber of Commerce and Industry business confidence index for July 2024 reflects this sentiment, showing only a marginal improvement of 1.8 index points from the previous year – a gain too modest to counteract the ongoing concerns about local infrastructure and utility reliability. Oosthuizen emphasises that service-delivery failures can serve as a “push factor”, driving businesses to relocate. “Where businesses do not need to be located in Johannesburg, poor service delivery encourages businesses to relocate elsewhere,” he says. This potential exodus of both businesses and workers threatens to further erode Johannesburg’s economic stability, affecting not only established companies, but also informal businesses reliant on formal-sector earnings. Oosthuizen says, “This can undermine local economies, also through the impact of a weakened formal sector (and earnings from the formal sector) on the informal sector.”

Ncube and other Johannesburg residents deserve better. The city’s inability to supply basic utilities like safe power and clean water is a catastrophe that has to be addressed immediately. It’s time to invest in this city’s future and end the cycle of neglect.

Residents of Kanana share their daily struggles of service delivery. Video: Rivaldo Jantjies

Civil society slams “uncaring government”, three years since Deokaran’s assassination

Neeshan Balton, Wayne Duvenage, Vuyiswa Ramokgopa, Andy Mothibi, Mark Heywood, and Trene Poragadu.
Photo: Ruby Delahunt.

INFOGRAPHIC: Measuring the economic power of storytelling

The financial contribution of storytelling to South Africa’s economy, highlights its influence across the national landscape.

Storytelling in South Africa has long been celebrated for its cultural significance, but its role in driving economic growth is often underappreciated. Beyond captivating audiences, the storytelling industry spans multiple sectors – from film and television to publishing and digital content creation – contributing to job creation, tourism, and overall economic development.

The data visualisation below delves into the influence of storytelling and uncover the ways in which it supports industries and generates income.

SLICE: No DNA, just RSA!

INFOGRAPHIC: Uptick in unemployment rate

According to the Quarterly Labour Force Survey released by Statistics South Africa on August 13, 2024, the unemployment rate in South Africa has increased from 32.9% in the first quarter of the year to 33.5% in the second quarter. Unemployment has increased in the second quarter of each year since 2019.

 

Shein pop-up store means e-commerce giant is here to stay

Customers waited in long queues to experience Shein’s first pop-up store in South Africa.

The Chinese online clothing store, Shein, opened a pop-up store in Mall of Africa, where attendees got to physically engage with the products before buying, for the first time.

But strangely, customers could only feel and try on clothes, purchases still had to be finalised online, not at the store itself. Instead, they had to install the Shein app and scan the QR codes to buy their hauls.

Walking into the store, predominantly pink decor and calming tunes played by the in-store DJ made for a less chaotic experience than going on the app itself, with countless pop-up’s and spinning coming at you.

Apart from clothes, beauty products like make-up and fragrances were also on display and available for testing.

Teacher, Rorisang Jones, commented on the long wait she had to endure, she said, “I actually find it hilarious because you can’t actually buy”.

In a statement, Shein said the aim of the store is to offer an immersive in-store experience, as well as “empowering individuals to embrace their personal style without reservation.”

The opening of the pop-up store comes at a time when Shein has come under fire for exploitative labour practices, environmental harm and tax evasion. Shein, along with rival e-commerce clothing brand Temu, have been accused of exploiting a tax loophole which has enabled them pay 20% import duty as opposed to the 45% tariff that local retailers have to pay.[KK1] 

The South African Revenue Service (SARS) has put a hold on implementing a tax hike that would be imposed on Shein and Temu, stating that various stakeholders need to be engaged to ensure sector readiness for a tax hike.

Nevertheless, the introduction of the Shein pop-up store indicates that they have a large enough market in South Africa to stay the course when that comes to pass.

Celebrating SA women Olympians this Women’s Month 

The Olympic Games are the pinnacle of sporting excellence, and these women athletes are the perfect example of South African sporting talent.  

This year, South African Women’s Month coincides with the Summer Olympic Games, which makes it a perfect time to honour just some of the countless women who have made history in these prestigious games. From Penny Heyns to Caster Semenya, South African women have continued to showcase their skills at the highest level. 

The Olympics are some of the oldest athletic competitions in the world, starting in 776 BC, but women only joined the competition in the 1900 games. South Africa has an interesting relationship with the Olympic games because of the nation’s Apartheid policy which had them banned from 1964 until the negotiations to end Apartheid began in 1990 (Olympedia). This means South African women only participated in the Olympic Games on a larger scale from the 1992 Summer Games, with 26 women at once, as opposed to the combined 31 between 1920 and 1990.  

Since their readmission, South African women have proven to be worthy contenders, holding their weight in all competitions, from swimming to athletics and even hockey.  

Penelope ‘Penny’ Heyns, one of the nation’s most successful competitors, won 3 total medals (two gold and one bronze), and became one of the world’s greatest swimmers after becoming the first woman in Olympic history to win both the 200m and 100m breaststroke events at the 1996 Atlanta Olympic Games.  

Despite questions about her gender, Caster Semenya won gold medals in Women’s 800m athletics at the London 2012 and Rio de Janeiro 2016 Olympics.  Semenya’s Olympics journey was cut short when World Athletics (formerly International Association of Athletics Federations) ruled in 2018 that she and other female athletes like her with high testosterone levels should take medication to reduce these levels. She remains one of the greatest South African women athletes to participate at the Olympics. 

Tatjana Smith (formerly Schoenmaker) is yet another South African woman who continues to achieve phenomenal results at the Olympic Games. As of July 30, Smith received one gold medal in the women’s 100m breaststroke event, the country’s first of the tournament. This gold medal achievement is her third after winning two others at the 2020 Tokyo Games, where she set a new world record for the Women’s 200m breaststroke.  

These are just a few of South Africa’s amazing women athletes who have flown the South African flag high. Their passion, dedication, and skill serve to inspire generations of young women as the country celebrates women this Women’s Month.  

Gauteng celebrated as UNESCO names new World Heritage Sites

PROFILE: Wits alumni making waves as a creative multi-hyphenate

Sibusisiwe Gugu Manqele. Photo: Supplied/Skinnie’s Gallery.

SOCCER: Zulu Society FC continues unstoppable winning streak  

In a tense atmosphere, the away team dominated Braamfontein Centre FC with a 7-0 victory in the Wits internal league. 

On Monday, July 22, the Zulu Society FC started the second half of the season exquisitely by dominating Braamfontein Centre FC at Wits Sturrock Pack Stadium.   

The game began with both sides pushing hard and applying pressure in each other’s defensive third.  

However, just minutes into the first half, the tension was quickly broken when Zulu Society FC made their presence felt by effortlessly scoring their first three goals. This disrupted the opposition as players struggled to regain momentum and composure.  

The first few minutes of the second half were openly contested. For a moment, it appeared as though Braamfontein Centre FC was poised to pull off an incredible turnaround.  

But, despite generating multiple chances, their lack of structure and communication created space for Zulu Society FC to exploit gaps and ultimately left the home team vulnerable. The predictability of some goals exposed the Braamies’ defensive flaws.  

The chants and cheers from the spectators showed unity, revealing that one team arrived at the game with a winning mindset. Each goal was celebrated as if the opponents might still fight back, but as the outcome became inevitable, the cheers grew quieter.  

After the final whistle, Wandile Zulu, the Zulu Society FC coach, told Wits Vuvuzela that his team remained “focused” and “not complacent” in their approach to the game. 

 

Zulu Society FC coach, Wandile Zulu briefs the squad about their overall performance just after the game ended. Photo: Salim Nkosi

Braamfontein Centre FC remains second to last in the league, with a record of eight games, seven losses, and one draw.  

Nicholas Gudwana, the coach of Braamfontein Center FC, said: “I don’t want to say we performed poorly, but the team still needs to work very hard. This is a new team that was introduced last year, so we are in the process of building.”  

As the dust settled after the match, Zulu Society FC climbed to 6th place in the first division of the Wits Internal Football League, while the home side continues to linger in the bottom half of the table.