Wits University’s Professor Srila Roy resign as HOD over “racist” remarks

Wits University professor who called South Africans lazy and unambitious has left her post.

“South Africans have little ambition, are complacent and have poor work ethic” – these were the choice Wits University’s Head of Sociology, Professor Srila Roy posted on her X (formerly Twitter) account, which has now led to her resignation.

The Department of Sociology confirmed Roy’s resignation from her role as head of department in a statement on February 26.

Following backlash over the post, Roy deleted the post and then posted an apology four days later. In it, she claimed that her tweet was in response to “xenophobic tropes” that arose after the Portfolio Committee on Higher Education raised concerns over the number of foreign nationals working in academic institutions.  

Roy said she was sorry for any “hurt” she may have caused and was willing to take full responsibility for her “pushback”.  

But it was too little, too late. Calls for her resignation came from her very own department, and strong condemnation from the Wits Student Representative Council, parliament and the South African Sociological Association followed.  

The South African Sociological Association (SASA) said her remarks were problematic, classist, racist and xenophobic. “Professor Roy’s remarks show disdain for the ethos of the South African higher education sector and the country as a whole,” they added.  

In parliament, the Chairperson of the Portfolio Committee on Higher Education and Training, Mr Tebogo Letsie, said: “Professor Roy serves as Head of Sociology at Wits, a field dedicated to understanding social issues such as inequality, gender and development. It is therefore deeply disappointing that someone in such a position could hold and express views that undermine the dignity and potential of the very people our universities exist to serve”. 

“South Africans are resilient, hardworking and ambitious, and they continue to strive for a better future despite many challenges.” 

The university’s investigation into Roy’s conduct continues.

*Note: Headline updated on February 28, 2026 to provide clarity.

EDITORIAL: Johannesburg water crisis points out chronic mismanagement

Johannesburg’s water crisis is heavily restricting the daily lives of citizens. 

For the past month, the City of Johannesburg has been struggling with a water crisis that has exposed serious cracks within local governance and infrastructure. What started off as a short outage has now spiralled out of control.  

Residents have been frustrated by the lack of water services across Johannesburg the city. From Melville, Westdene, Parktown west and Emmarentia, some residents have gone more than 20 days without water.  

Johannesburg can not claim to be a world- class African city, while its residents are standing in queues at water tanks for over three weeks. This lack of service delivery is inhumane. Water is a basic need, and the municipality needs to ensure at that this service is delivered to all residents efficiently. 

Volunteers in Melville have organised communal water tanks with strict limits per household simply to ensure survival. For elderly residents and families with small children, the daily act of securing water has become exhausting. 

Frustration has spilt onto the streets as peaceful protests are being carried out. Protests have erupted in Melville. Residents are angry at the lack of urgency shown by the government. All the while, some are missing school, work, being put through unhygienic conditions and emotional stress.  

City officials point to ageing infrastructure, pressure management systems, maintenance backlogs and lack of coordination with Rand Water as part of the problem. The Government has announced intervention plans and committees aimed at stabilising the water supply. But for residents living day to day without running water, these long-term strategies offer little immediate relief.  

The lack of planning and leadership is now being highlighted as residents are being impacted. The city of Johannesburg must move pass crisis management and implement sustainable and reliable service delivery.  

When taps begin to run dry, this is an indication that governance has failed and South African citizens have to now pay the price.  

The new minimum wage amount set to increase by R1, 44 

The increase in the minimum wage amount is not as impactful as the minister of labour and employment would suggest.  

The minimum wage amount is set to increase to R30,23 per hour, from R28,23 per hour as of March 1, 2026. South Africans are beyond frustrated by this small change. 

“The income is basically the same, given that the economy is also changing. [The government] increasing the minimum wage doesn’t change the fact that things are also getting more expensive. If, lets say, they were increasing the wages, but the economy’s status was still the same at least [there] would be a bit of a change, compared to right now,” said Rose Mongwe, a third-year bachelor of education student.   

The minimal increase, means Mongwe, whose mother is a domestic worker will not get an allowance increase this year. She uses what her mom can give her for toiletries and other personal needs.  “It is not [as much] as I would want it to be but then it kind of helps here and there and sustains me when I’m unable to get some money for myself,” she said.  

Muhammed Siyad the Regional Investment Growth Manager for Southern Gauteng at Absa said, “At the rate at which inflation is climbing, this increase of the minimum wage amount per hour I don’t feel it would affect any households in a positive sense, the reason for that is everything else is getting more expensive, its making it harder for people to manage based on the current salaries.” 

Neo Bapela honours in bachelor of education said, “I feel like the [minimum wages amount] is very little, but also it goes according to peoples’ responsibilities, I might think that the money is enough for me, because I don’t have kids, I don’t have other responsibilities.”  

The increase of the minimum wage amount does not keep up with the rising cost of living. Many households continue to stretch out their money, the increase of R1,44 offers little to no relief.  

EDITORIAL: South Africans continue to ask “what’s in a name?”

South Africa is again debating the name changes of provinces and towns. 

Over the past month, there has been nationwide debate over the name changes of various towns and provinces. This puts into question South Africa’s history and if we should preserve the current names as a reminder or change them to honour our heritage. 

Name changes carry real and expensive costs. The updating of maps, road signs, business branding and tourism material require funding and resources that could be used elsewhere. The country has a multitude of more pressing issues – such as a high unemployment rate, and water and electricity shortages- changing the names of provinces and towns shouldn’t be the top priority for the current economic climate of South Africa. 

The Eastern Cape’s is currently undergoing a massive transformation on this front. Gayton McKenzie , the Minister of Sports, Arts and Culture, approved 21 geographical name changes, including renaming East London to KuGompo and Graaff-Reinet to Robert Sobukwe Town. This has been in line with public consultations and recommendations made from the South African Geographical Names Council.   

The name changes are yet to be confirmed as it is the department’s ongoing commitment to ensure that the names highlight the country’s diverse heritage and history. Most residents in Eastern Cape are against the name changes highlighting that the towns historical identity and heritage should remain, as this keeps history intact.  

Other residents argue that the changes are long overdue, as the original names are reminiscent of our history and it is important to keep reminders around, so that people do not forget. The renaming project can be viewed as a form of decolonialisation and reclaiming our history and instilling pride over the South African landscape.  

King Misuzulu kaZwelithini recently reignited the debate by calling for the removal of “Natal”, from the provincial name “KwaZulu- Natal”, he argues that before colonial efforts the area was simply called KwaZulu. The Zulu king is pleading with politicians to broaden the public debate about these historical boarders as they have been shaped by colonial authorities.  

The African National Congress (ANC) has responded cautiously, particularly around the proposals to rename KwaZulu-Natal, stressing that it has not yet adopted an official position on the matter. The party emphasised that any provincial name changes must follow proper constitutional and legal processes. 

As the debate continues, we need to critically ask ourselves what impact the name changes will have on the community, whether positive or negative, it will be the residents that deal with the massive changes, and their opinion is of high importance. 

REVIEW: Bridgerton is still the most addictive romance on Netflix  

Four seasons in, Bridgerton struggles with originality, yet it feels as genuine than ever.  

Dearest gentle reader, in this highly anticipated new season of one of Netflix’s most-watched series, Bridgerton season four, part one, is not quite what we expected.  

This season focuses on the notorious playboy Benedict Bridgerton’s love story and his quest to find  life partner. He meets a lady named Sophie at a masquerade ball and makes it his mission to find her after she leaves the ball in a hurry. This season uses the Cinderella trope, but instead of a glass slipper, Sophie leaves behind a glove. This story line makes the story predictable, as many audience members are very familiar with this trope, it lacks originality.  

A very interesting aspect of this new season is that we get an inside look into the servants’ quarters. We are offered a behind-the-scenes glimpse of how the lives of the rich and royal are kept in-order by those who are rarely noticed in these spaces. It is reminiscent of  renowned period drama, Downton Abbey.  

 Through this shift in perspective, the series highlights the invisible labour that sustains the grandeur of high society. Lady Whistledown makes a point of exposing and sharing the stories of these workers, further emphasising their importance in society. 

A carriage driver remarks on the behaviour within the ton, stating, “It’s thrilling for them, chaos for us.” This line emphasizes the immense labour servants must perform to maintain the magnificence or grandeur of the balls and social events hosted during the debutante season. 

Throughout the Bridgerton series, Benedict has been depicted as sexually fluid, which makes his search for a wife this season feel out of left field and somewhat out of character. 

 It would have been more compelling to watch him seek companionship with both men and women, ensuring that the character development establishing him as pansexual in previous seasons, did not go to waste. 

The chemistry between Benedict and Sophie is undeniable. This is the first season where the main couple get to know each other in a friendly manner, and this was entertaining to watch.  

The playfulness and gentle ease they have with each other is refreshing, from the conflict we initially see with the previous main couples in the series.  

Despite the predictability and missteps on Benedict’s character development, Bridgerton season four succeeds in feeling emotionally sincere.  

This may not be the most original chapter in the Bridgerton storyline, but it proves that familiarity, when written well, can still be engaging.  

Vuvu rating: 7.5/ 10  

Wits postgraduates encouraged to be innovative  

Technology is advancing and getting involved will help postgraduates not get left behind.  

From left to right, Simone Dahms Vester, Tasneem Hassem and Lesego Molefe, at the Post Graduate Orientation panel discussion session. Photo: Bonolo Mokonoto

In the age of artificial intelligence, postgraduate research needs to adapt quickly to not just keep up but lead the way. This is what new students were told during their Postgraduate Orientation on January 28, 2026 at the Great Hall.  

Beyond using apps and tools that already exist, students were encouraged to be creative and develop their own apps instead of relying heavily on AI for their research. “[With] something like ChatGPT, we need to know who developed it and what data it has been trained on, especially with mental health, a lot of the phrases or tools that have been developed come from the west, so when we transfer it to South Africa there is a mismatch on how we understand mental health” said Tasneem Hassem Senior lecturer in Psychology.   

Students were urged to take advantage of digital platforms to create their own apps, using a data collection tool or analysis app. The speakers noted that by identifying everyday research challenges, students can find practical solutions without having any app development background.  

Postgraduate students in attendance at the Postgraduate Orientation. Photo: Bonolo Mokonoto

As beneficial as apps can be, they also have their own flaws. Lesego Molefe, a master of science student, shared some concerns regarding the Wits app. “I will always reference the Wits mobile app, it is literally the one stop shop to everything, but there is one problem- it’s that, it’s a bit fragmented” she said. The Wits app needs to bring together the student element, by making it more interactive for it to function as a social media platform.  

New technologies should be seen as an opportunity to enhance research rather than an obstacle to tackle. 

#AMLD2026: Startups can leverage AI to solve African problems

Jozi Angels and 22onSloan fund and mentor innovative AI business ideas aimed to solve African problems, founders warned on how not to fumble the bag.  

Wits University is hosting the fourth edition of the Applied Machine Learning Days (AMLD) conference from January 26 to 29 at the Wits Science Stadium and investors are present to advice Artificial Intelligent (AI) powered business founders.  

From left to right: Hayet Hammana, Bernadette Bule and Keshni Morar. Photo: Lulah Mapiye

Bernadette Bule, Wits alumni, and Business and Partnerships Manager at 22onSloane, the largest startup campus in Africa, based in Johannesburg, said there is a fundamental skill every founder must have. 

“I’ve seen that a lot of founders lack financial literacy, which leads them to desire to scale their businesses way too early. Our programme looks at the stages of our BRL (Business Readiness Level), which is from zero to ten, and determine your business needs as per your BRL level,” she said. 

Keshni Morar, Angel Investor at Jozi Angels, agreed. She said a lot of businesses scale prematurely, leading to their downfall. Morar’s core work includes funding and mentoring early-stage South African start-up’s. 

“Sometimes they [founders] may not be the right person to scale the business. Understanding fundamentals of business and self-awareness really helps with transferring the power to someone who is more capable of getting the business where it needs to be,” she said. 

There were many AI-powered startups at AMLD, from AI models designed to assist doctors with follow-ups, scheduling patients and sending appointment reminders to efforts to end the use of English as a lingua franca through AI-mediated one-on-one conversations amongst African descendants of different languages.  

One of the co-founders of Masakhana, a company research and funding company aimed at democratising AI in South Sudan, Lydia Kila Taban said: “We have more than 2,000 spoken languages in Africa, but the technology we use does not understand most of our languages. This results in a lot of people being unable to understand technology as it is not in a language they speak and think in.” 

Masakhana is working to solve this problem with the help of researchers, engineers, computer scientists and others passionate about preserving African languages and heritage. This is a perfect example of the type of solutions Jozi Angels is willing to take risk funding. 

Bule said with great ideas and the right funding, young people could help put a dent in South Africa’s unemployment problem.   

FATUTRED IMAGE: AMLD conference gathering at Wits University. Photo: Lulah Mapiye

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Witsies draft budget tips for Minister Enock Godongwane

This might be the year the national treasury receives more than two thousand budget tips.  

Some university students are eagerly welcoming the Minister of Finance’s call to send  budget tips ahead of the second budget speech under the Government of National Unity (GNU), scheduled to be delivered on February 25, 2026. 

According to the Parliamentary Monitoring Group, the invitation to send through budget tips began in 1999 under former Finance Minister Trevor Manuel. An effort to get civil society to actively participate in matters of national importance. 

Since its inception, citizens’ participation has been limited. In 2023 minister’s office received over 2000 responses. Before and after that, the responses were fewer than a thousand. 

Even though the Wits SRC Treasurer General, Somwabo Mhlahlo (22) believes this is one of those things the government does to tick a box, he is determined to contribute to the conversation. 

Mhlahlo’s biggest concern is that many students previously funded by the National Student Financial Aid Scheme (NSFAS) are unable to register for the 2026 academic year.  

“They have outstanding fees and cannot proceed with their studies because of the NSFAS cap on accommodation, it is the government’s responsibility to settle that debt,” he said. NSFAS currently caps accommodation allowance at R55,000 while residences on campus are currently charging between R55,685- R117,962.  

 
For Sanele Segutya (23), a post-graduate student in Public Management, who spent three weeks in a public hospital in Cape Town due to a leg injury, resource allocation on public health services is most important. To offer services that are almost similar to those offered in private hospitals.  

“The fact that I was in a hospital in itself is a privilege. My observations may have been surface level, but the nurses seemed frustrated all the time. At some point they had to discharge patients early because of a shortage of beds,” said Segutya.  
 

Another student who is drafting a tip is eighteen-year-old Tsenolo Dampies, first-year student in Computational and Applied Mathematics. Dampies’ focus is infrastructure and security. “We need more cameras in crime hotspots, and more police stations where people can report crime as we all know that crime is on a rise in South Africa,” he said. 
 
Witsies are using this chance to play a part in building the nation they dream of living in. If you were unaware that you have this power, you are being urged to click on this link, in no more than 300 words, state how you want your government to allocate funds, by no later than Monday February 16, 2026. 

FEATURED IMAGE: Image showing South African Rands. Photo: Lulah Mapiye

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SLICE: A newcomers guide to conquering the Wits edge! 

Being a first-year can conjure up a rollercoaster of emotions, and navigating it can turn survival into belonging.

The moment my parents’ car disappeared down the road outside my residence four years ago, reality hit me. Standing there in a new place, surrounded by unfamiliar faces and unpacked boxes, I felt a knot in my stomach and my chest tightened with anxiety. It was bittersweet watching them leave, I felt a mixture of both excitement and fear settling in all at once. As shy as I was, I knew this was an opportunity of a lifetime. 

Around me, students laughed as their parents helped them carry boxes upstairs, rooms and corridors buzzed with conversation, and new friendships seemed to form effortlessly. I knew no one. I kept questioning if I truly belonged here. I did not realise then, what I know now, which is that almost everyone around me was feeling the exact same way I did.  Even in my loneliness, I promised myself that I would make the most out of this experience. 

Walking onto the Wits University campus for the first time can be both exciting and terrifying. Your first year at Wits represents a sense of freedom and possibility, but also pressure and uncertainty, this marks the beginning of a journey that will test you in ways you never expected.  

Wits is more than just attending lectures and keeping up with submission deadlines. Outside of classes you will quickly come to realise that this university has so much more to offer. Whether you are grabbing something to munch on at the Matrix, sitting on the Lawns with your new formed friends, or doing the occasional people-watching on the Great Hall steps, these spaces become the heart of student life on main campus.  

Hundreds of events are hosted by various clubs and societies and pop- up performances are frequent; this is to remind you that Wits is a community, as much as an academic space. Ensure that you get involved as it will help make campus feel less stressful and more like home.  

Speaking of stress, the change from high school to university is drastic and this can be overwhelming. No one is here to remind you of deadlines or check if you are keeping up academically, it is important that you take agency over your own life. First year is not about being perfect, it is about learning how to manage your time efficiently to avoid unnecessary stress later on.  

Making friends can be tricky, campus is constantly busy and it is easy to feel alone in the crowd, as was I upon arrival. People might seem like they have it together, but they are silently navigating the confusion and anxiety just as you are. Do not be afraid to talk to the person sitting next to you in a lecture or ask questions in tutorials, you would be surprised how many people feel exactly the way you do.  

As the year continues, it is important to know where you can seek out help. Wits offers academic development units such as the Wits Writing Centre, tutors, and libraries that are there to support you. Make use of these facilities early on, there is no shame in seeking help.  

Take care of your overall wellbeing, The Campus Health and Wellness Centre (CHWC) and the Counselling and Careers Development Unit (CCDU) are there to support students with their physical and mental health.  

First year will test you, you might fail a test, or question whether you belong or not. Do not give up, keep showing up and take it one day at a time.  

Oh and remember, once a Witsie always a Witsie!   

EDITORIAL: The Vanderbijlpark is tragedy compounded

The Vanderbijlpark scholar transport accident exposes how reckless driving and weak enforcement continue to cost lives on South Africa’s roads.  

On Monday, January 19, a scholar transport minibus was involved in a devastating collision in Vanderbijlpark, situated south of Johannesburg. The tragic accident resulted in fourteen fatalities, sending shockwaves through Gauteng and the country at large.  

As investigations continue, the 22-year-old driver appeared before the Vanderbijlpark Magistate’s Court, where the case took a drastic turn as he abandoned bail and additional charges were added. The National Prosecuting Authority confirmed on Thursday, January 22, that the driver, Ayanda Dludla, now faces 14 counts of murder, upgraded from the initial charges of culpable homicide. Other charges include three counts of attempted murder, one count of driving without a valid permit and one count of operating an unlicensed vehicle.  

Initial reports and video footage point to reckless driving during peak traffic. Too often, scholar transports operate in a grey area where unroadworthy vehicles, missing permits and unqualified drivers are treated as a miner issue, rather than a life-threatening risk for the lives of people on the road.   

The tragedy that unfolded in Vanderbijlpark is not just a heartbreaking reminder of how dangerous our roads have become; it is an indication of the disappointing system that has repeatedly failed to protect even its most vulnerable users. For years, communities and road safety advocates have warned about reckless driving and weak enforcement from road officials.  

The Department of Transport’s recent push to verify scholar transport operators, to ensure proper registration and the possession of valid documentation, is crucial. This raises an uncomfortable question: why did it take the loss of fourteen young lives for this urgency? Road stops after such a tragedy are not enough, enforcement must be consistent and uncompromising, not just reactive.  

Scholar transport drivers are entrusted with young lives, and that responsibility needs discipline, patience and respect for the rules of the road. Reckless overtaking, speeding and a complete disregard for traffic laws are acts of negligence with inevitably devastating consequences.  

Parents and community members should be empowered to play a role and verifying whether a scholar vehicle is properly registered, checking operating permits, and refusing to use services that cannot prove the above should be normalised. Communities should feel supported and not intimidated or discouraged when reporting unsafe drivers.  

The way forward requires more than apologies and condolences. It demands stricter enforcement, routine vehicle inspections and serious consequences. The Vanderbijlpark tragedy must mark a turning point for South Africans. Our children deserve to travel safely to and from school, anything else is a failure we can no longer accept. 

Investigations into the accident are ongoing and the case has been postponed to March 5, 2026. 

Two universities and the city that never stops learning

Behind Johannesburg’s title as a world-class African city lies Wits and UJ transforming the city into Africa’s intellectual powerhouse.

As “Joburgers” would say in Setswana: “Joburg ke country,” meaning Johannesburg is a country. A city that feels like a nation itself, whose name echoes with the roar of commerce. For over a century, its identity has been forged in the deep-level gold mines beneath its tall buildings. It is South Africa’s economic and commercial epicentre, a city built on tangible assets. But the gold of the 21st century isn’t dug from the ground, it is cultivated in lecture halls, coded in digital hubs and debated in policy forums. Today, Johannesburg’s claim as a world-class African city is redefined not only by its physical infrastructure, but by a formidable concentration of intellectual capital.

Image of Wits University standing tall in Jorissen Street. Photo: Abena Mahlahlane

Walking through Braamfontein, the heartbeat of Johannesburg feels close to the surface. The streets are alive with the sound of taxis hooting, car guards filling the area at parking lots, and groups of students in Wits hoodies spilling onto Jorissen Street, cracking jokes and bursting into laughter. Wits University is at the centre of it all, its sandstone buildings rising between the city’s noise and ambition[Ed1] . 

Barely five kilometres from inner-city Braamfontein away is the suburb of Auckland Park, where the University of Johannesburg (UJ) beats with its own rhythm. The atmosphere shifts from inner-city street buzz to a campus alive with experimentation. Young innovators huddle as they test prototypes and plan start-ups.

More than just neighbours, the universities are the twin engines of a thriving knowledge economy, providing a growing density of research, innovation and talent. Their combined influence transforms the city into a knowledge economy, where ideas are currency, and innovation is the infrastructure.

Unlike some African cities which dominated by a single major university, Wits and UJ complement each other rather than compete. While Wits University delivers globally benchmarked research, UJ leads in socially embedded innovation. This unique dynamic is validated by the world’s most respected university ranking systems. 

Wits University is ranked number 267 in the world, and second in Africa, according to the 2025 QS World University Rankings. Long celebrated for its groundbreaking research, and alumni who’ve shaped South Africa’s story, Wits continues to hold its own among the world’s best.

“From my point of view, rankings are important because institutions want to do well, it is what people see first. We participate in rankings where research is a major component, because that is the hallmark of a good university,” said Wits Deputy Vice-Chancellor, Professor Lynn Morris. 

The University of Johannesburg is redefining what an African institution can be, claiming the number 23 spot globally in the 2025 Times Higher Education (THE) Impact Rankings, and an impressive number two in the world for progress in the United Nations’ Sustainable Development Goal (SDGs) toward eradicating poverty. 

Together, Wits and UJ form the intellectual backbone of Johannesburg. Universities whose ideas don’t stay trapped in ivory towers but spill into the city streets, innovation hubs and communities. 

Founded in 1922, Wits University is Johannesburg’s oldest and arguably most prestigious university. A beacon of deep research and frontier science. With over 380 NRF-rated researchers, its labs have birthed discoveries from mining engineering to quantum computing. 

Wits Quantum Initiative, the first of its kind in Africa, positions the university at the cutting edge of subatomic physics and computational research. During the COVID-19 pandemic, Wits scientists collaborated across disciplines, from epidemiology to data analytics, demonstrating the university’s capacity for rapid, high-impact innovation.

Under its Wits 2033 strategic plan, the university aims to cement its identity as a research-intensive, globally engaged African leader. The plan envisions Wits as a bridge between Global South and North, a hub for scientific collaboration that also speaks to local realities. 

While Wits chases the stars of scientific prestige, the University of Johannesburg grounds innovation in human impact. UJ’s philosophy is clear: research must solve problems

Its Strategic Plan 2035, “Reimagining the Future. Realising Possibility” aligns the university’s goals with the UN’s Sustainable Development Agenda. The result is an institution where inclusivity and integrity are baked into the research DNA. With research productivity of 2.35 accredited output units per scholar (double the national average). UJ turns efficiency into impact.

This academic prowess is not confined to campus grounds. Both universities have built powerful, dedicated innovation hubs that act as direct channels for executing economic and social policy, turning abstract knowledge into jobs, businesses and solutions.

Built on the site of a former print works, Tshimologong Digital Innovation Precinct buzzes with coders, designers and start-ups. It’s not just a space, it’s a policy instrument, part of Johannesburg’s broader urban regeneration strategy. With its name meaning “new beginnings” in Setswana, the precinct operates on three pillars: Digital Skills Development, Incubation & Acceleration, and Market Access. Tshimologong is Wits’s engine for commercializing digital innovation.

I visited the precinct late one afternoon and was immediately greeted by a cheerful administrator, who called for executive assistant Kgaugelo Modiba to assist me. “Don’t be nervous,” Modiba reassured me, as I prepared to interview the initiative’s CEO Mark Harris.

A few people sat nearby in the café area, eyes hooked on laptops, making the most of the precinct’s quiet hum and free Wi-Fi. It was exactly how Prof. Morris described it, “you should visit the precinct, it is a rather refreshing space where everyone is welcome. You can grab coffee and enjoy perks of free Wi-Fi.”

Kgaugelo led me down a corridor into a boardroom flooded with natural light. Tshimologong CEO Mark Harris greeted me with a glass of water and an easy smile. It seems conversations for the people at the precinct come easily. “So what kind of journalist are you going to be? The good kind or the bad one,” Harris laughed.

I asked Harris why Tshimologong had been placed in the heart of Braamfontein, and his answer echoed the vision of the late Professor Barry Dwolatzky (founder of Tshimologong), which was that young people hold the creativity, energy and reason to build a new South Africa. Braamfontein was chosen because its streets are alive with students and young creators.

“The vision was to spot people like yourself who are educated and ambitious, create space for them to become entrepreneurs,” said Harris.

The precinct was never meant to sit safely inside the university walls, but to stand open to all youth, educated, self-taught and anyone with the will to innovate and build. 

Tshimologong’s Digital Skills Academy is a crucial accelerator, taking high-potential youth and equipping them with job-ready skills in Artificial Intelligence, Machine Learning and the Internet of Things; the core competencies of the Fourth Industrial Revolution (4IR).

This isn’t just for the sake of training, the precinct works with corporate partners on Enterprise Supplier Development (ESD) programs. These aim to secure employment through its network, creating a direct pipeline from the classrooms to the economy. 

“From what I’ve seen of the youngsters who come here, these are people who want to make an impact. Our trainers are just as committed, they are determined to empower future entrepreneurs. The youth are showing up positively, they are hungry for change, and they want to help South Africa grow. We often hear the negative stories about crime and violence, but I refuse to only see that side. There is so much potential here, and I believe in them,” said Harris.

As the discussion continued to unfold, it moved beyond Braamfontein’s physical space to the culture it nurtures. Harris’s belief in the potential of young people seem to find its proof just outside the boardroom walls. 

This spirit is best captured by the Fak’ugesi African Digital Innovation Festival, hosted at Tshimologong every year. This festival turns Braamfontein into a pulsing circuit of creativity. The 2025 edition, themed #PowerSurge, called on Africa’s digital creators to “take control on the grid”, blending ancestral intelligence with artificial intelligence.

The Fak’ugesi festival turns Braamfontein into a living circuit of art, technology and collaboration, celebrating Africa’s creative power in the digital age. Photo: Abena Mahlahlane

Walking through the entrance felt like stepping into an animated scene. Walls alive with colour, music weaving between exhibition stands and a soft buzz of conversation rising from every corner. A row of Virtual Reality headsets lined one side of the room, where groups of young people tested immersive worlds. Up the staircase were two small rooms that had been turned into gaming rooms, complete with PS5 and Xbox consoles that drew clusters of gamers competing in friendly matches. 

Panels of speakers shared stories of small start-up creators and local digital enterprises. Every corner felt like a classroom and playground combined, a space where learning, creativity and collaboration merged. 

“When I curated #PowerSurge I looked at what is currently happening in the African digital continent, we saw last year in 2024, about 65 billion Rands worth of investments that went into start-up, technology and creative sectors,” said the director of Fak’ugesi festival, Alby Michaels. “This year we wanted to showcase what is next in the African continent. We have been creating this beautiful content for our creators for years, but I think now it was all about owning up agencies, standing together and moving forward with purpose.” 

Through such initiatives, Johannesburg asserts itself not merely as a consumer of global tech, but as a producer of digital culture and creativity, solidifying its reputation as a continental innovation capital.

“Creators are doing amazing stuff, we are not just consumers of the digital space we are actually critics of those spaces,” said Michaels. 

Ideas move faster than light, a panel of artists, technologists and innovators reimagining what it means to create in the digital age.
Photo: Abena Mahlahlane

UJ’s Centre for Advanced Learning Technologies in Science, Technology, Engineering, Arts and Mathematics (CALSTEAM) redefines how the next generation learns. 

Instead of chalk and paper, lessons unfold through virtual and augmented reality (VR/AR), tools designed to make abstract science visible and alive. “VR allows students to step inside the science,” explained Professor Mafor Penn, who leads research at the centre. “Concepts like molecules, cells and sound waves suddenly become visible, something you can interact with rather than just imagine.” 

Concepts like molecules, cells and sound waves suddenly become visible, something you can interact with rather than just imagine.
Professor Mafor Penn

CALSTEAM evolved from UJ’s former VARSTEME hub, broadening its focus to include the arts and entrepreneurship. Its mission is not only to enhance teaching but to cultivate educators who are also innovators. Teachers who can create, adapt and apply technology to suit local contexts.

For many South African schools where resources remain scarce, CALSTEAM is deliberate about accessibility. Many of its tools are designed for affordability, ensuring that immersive learning is not limited to well-resourced schools. “We don’t want to widen the gap between those who have and those who don’t,” said Penn. “That’s why we work with scalable, low-cost technologies that can be used anywhere, even in under-resourced classrooms.” 

The centre’s pioneering project, Culturally Anchored Virtual and Augmented Reality Simulations (CAVARS), takes this philosophy further by merging indigenous knowledge systems with science education. In one simulation, African drumming demonstrates sound waves, turning cultural practice into scientific inquiry. “Science should never feel foreign,” Penn added. “When learners see their heritage reflected in what they study, it becomes meaningful and memorable.” 

Through coding clubs, immersive learning workshops, and postgraduate programmes in Educational Technology, CALSTEAM envisions a future where learning is not confined to textbooks but expands into virtual space, interactive, inclusive, and distinctly African. 

Gauteng City-Region Observatory (GCRO) offices at Wits. Photo: Abena Mahlahlane

A true world-class city does not just produce knowledge, it governs through it. The Gauteng City-Region Observatory (GCRO) is the institutional glue that connects Wits, UJ and the Gauteng Provincial Government. This is not a case of academia simply advising from the sidelines, it is a deep, structural partnership.

“The GCRO is an important research unit that provides data to the provincial government to help them understand and know where to place their resources, to know what interventions to look at, plan and think about the health of the city. “Wits and UJ also plays part and contribute to providing evidence and the data needed”, said Prof. Morris. 

Binding the partnership together is the Quality of Life Survey, a mirror reflecting how Johannesburg’s residents navigate the promises and pressures of city life. From employment and housing to public transport and social cohesion. The survey provides policymakers and researchers with a shared lens on how people actually experience the city.  “Our work has to have both the rigorous foundation and approach of academics, but be structured in a way that could be useful to policy makers. So, questions are tailored to what problems we see in Johannesburg region and how they could be academically rigorous to answering those questions,” said GCRO researcher, Jason Bell. “Wits and UJ are historic centres of debate, discussion, knowledge generation. They play an active role in the ecosystem of policy identification.”

Both institutions have formalized their future through long-term strategies, Wits 2033 and UJ 2035, each mapping a decade of sustained excellence.

Wits aims to strengthen its position as the leading research university in the Global South, while UJ envisions itself as the model of inclusive innovation. Their combined trajectories ensure that Johannesburg’s intellectual ecosystem remains globally competitive and locally transformative. If executed, these roadmaps could make Johannesburg the continental capital of knowledge innovation, leading Africa into the Fourth Industrial Revolution (4IR). 

“People want to see more than just the research, they want to see that the research is actually deployed. Whether it is a new of doing things, a new product or a new device, something tangible, an improved process,” said Morris. 

In small, ordinary moments, a lecture’s spark, a student’s first breakthrough, a start-up’s first pitch, Johannesburg’s new gold is being mined.

Through innovation hubs that drive economic growth and educational equity, and a unique governance model that embeds their expertise into the very fabric of the city, these two universities are doing more than just educating students. They are actively building a more resilient, prosperous, and innovative Johannesburg—a true world-class African city for the 21st century. 

FEATURED IMAGE: A collage of Johannesburg’s academic icons, representing the city’s transformation into a world-class hub of knowledge. Photo: Abena Mahlahlane

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Johannesburg’s world-class status belongs not to its infrastructure, but to its people

The city’s digital creatives are redefining what it means to live and work in a ‘world-class African city’.

Johannesburg exists in two places at once. There is the Johannesburg you can touch, smell, feel, and hear, with its jacaranda-lined streets, exploding roads, screams of traffic, glitzy high-rises, and pungent smell.

And then there is the other Johannesburg; the one you’re taking for granted. The one that pulses through fibre cables and 4G signals, the one that lives in Instagram grids and Google Drive folders, in DMs and collaborative Canva boards. The one that causes jumpy thumbs to double tap and fingers to type three flame emojis after a post.

This is the sophisticated and highly functional digital city built not of concrete and steel, but from code, bandwidth, and human collaboration. This is the digital creative economy.

Sitting in multiple digital meeting rooms – not physical ones, because even the concept of gathering has evolved – I encounter creatives who show the slogan still holds true. Not despite Johannesburg’s dysfunction, but because of what has emerged from it.

The mythology and the reality

Johannesburg earned its world-class aspirations honestly. Founded on the world’s largest gold deposits in 1886, it became Africa’s financial heartland, contributing 17% to South Africa’s GDP. Former Reserve Bank Governor Tito Mboweli once declared it a place where “phones dial, the lights switch on, you can drink our water,”  services that would seem mundane elsewhere, but which distinguished Johannesburg as exceptional in Africa.

That distinction is disintegrating. Between July 2024 and March 2025, the city reported 97,715 power outages. Johannesburg Water’s aging infrastructure requires R1,09-billion annually just for pipe replacements, funds the cash-strapped municipality cannot provide. The city faces potential bankruptcy, having written off R13-billion in irregular and wasteful expenditure. City Power is owed R10-billion by residents and businesses who have lost faith in paying for services that barely function.

Political analyst Goodenough Mashego’s assessment is blunt.

Johannesburg arrived where it is because of mismanagement, the lack of political will to fix it and because the people who have been running it have had this vision that they can leave
Goodenough Mashego

The Centre for Development and Enterprise concluded years ago that Johannesburg is a “slipping world city,” at risk of falling off the global map entirely.

Yet, in this landscape of decay, something unexpected is flourishing.

“It’s anywhere where there’s an ecosystem of various kinds of practitioners in the realms of entertainment, design, fashion, musicians, fine art, artisans, et cetera,” says Khensani Mohlatlole, a digital creative.

Renaé Mangena, who owns a digital publication, iQHAWE Magazine, thinks that “there’s a difference between the creative space and then the creative economy.”

The creative economy, she explains, is broader — the flow of money through creative industries, how creativity feeds into markets, how cultural production contributes to GDP. It’s the macroeconomic dimension.

“The creative space in itself, maybe it’s just like the more of where we’re at as artists where any form of creativity is produced,” she continues. “I like to think of it as an ecosystem of sorts.”

Mohlatlole emphasises the relational nature of this ecosystem. “There’s a lot of interconnectedness. Like you need everyone else for it to work, essentially, for it to operate as a creative process.”

It recognises that creative work emerges from networks, collaboration, and the provision of services. A photographer needs a stylist, a makeup artist, a designer. A writer needs editors, curators, platforms.

The digital creative economy only functions as an ecosystem that enables work to be discovered, valued, and eventually monetised. And post-Covid-19, the burst of content creators, CapCut editors, and caption connoisseurs has never been more prominent in South Africa.

Zinhle Zoe, a content creator, responding to comments on her YouTube channel.
Photo: Lukholo Mazibuko

How creatives operate in Jozi’s digital creative economy

@oneandonly_rori – Digital Content Producer

Rorisang Sebiloane is unmuted on Google Meets, donning glasses and a large smile, meeting with me in a manner that has become more familiar to Johannesburg’s creatives than any physical studio.

The story of how her media agency, Helang Media, began is quintessentially millennial, shaped by the blend of desire and accident: “In varsity, I used the bursary money to buy an iPhone, naturally, as one does.”

This seemingly small purchase, coupled with a casual suggestion from an iStore sales representative and a friend’s encouragement, led her to start a YouTube channel. Sebiloane soon realised her true passion lay in the digital space, prompting her to drop out of engineering and switch to marketing.

Sebiloane recognized a powerful, universal anxiety among her peers, stating, “People start to realise that nobody really knows what they’re doing, but it doesn’t mean that you won’t get somewhere or you won’t be successful.” This moved her toward collective storytelling in the form a segment called, These Twenties, featuring interviews with people navigating their twenties, normalisingthe non-linear, often confusing, experience of young adulthood.

When I ask Sebiloane whether digital platform mechanics shape her creative choices, she pauses thoughtfully. “In the beginning, I didn’t really care because I was just doing something that I was passionate about. But then when I sat down and I said, okay, this is something that I want to do and I want to take it seriously, you definitely consider the look and feel and the tone of social media.”

But not always.

She refuses to chase viral moments which is what Instagram and Youtube thrive on. “If I’m doing street interviews, I cannot think, okay, I need a viral moment because that’s not what my platform is about,” she insists.

https://youtu.be/3f9ltIzCi08

@okbaddiek – Writer, Content Creator, Fiber Artist

Khensani Mohlatlole’s relationship with social media is more complex and more fraught. “A lot of the things that I’m interested in are by way of the internet as well. It’s quite hard to remove my creative output from it,” she explains.

Unlike Sebiloane, who came to digital platforms after discovering her passion, Mohlatlole has been online since childhood. “I’ve been on the internet since I was six years old. It’s my culture, my school, my home. It already has informed the things that I want to do.”

She recognises the trap of algorithmic thinking. “I will say there are definitely times I’m doing something with a very conscious intent of like, I need to get this many views or I want this much engagement, or I know there’s certain things people will always eat up online.”

But there is another path through this landscape, one that consciously rejects the algorithmic premise entirely.

@anele__nyanda – Film Photographer

A day later, Anele Nyanda appears on my screen, a simple backdrop of a wooden wall, her presence carrying a quiet intentionality. She’s an analog film photographer shooting on 35mm or 120mm film.

After posting her photos on Instagram, iQHAWE magazine discovered her work at an exhibition called Threaded by Faith.

“She sent me a direct message on Instagram and asked if we could sit down and have an interview, well not sit down because we did it like this (virtual meeting), so I can just tell her about my work and my practice,” Nyanda explains.

Physical spaces allow people to connect beyond the reaches of the online world. Photo: Lukholo Mazibuko

Nyanda embraces a slower, more intentional creative process, preferring to work solo because, as she puts it, “It takes me quite a while to come up with something.”

This approach contrasts sharply with the fast-paced, content-heavy demands of digital platforms, where constant posting is often seen as necessary for visibility and relevance.

Her philosophy values depth over frequency — fewer images, more meaning. She’s not drawn to social media, saying, “I actually don’t enjoy social media… I feel sometimes a post won’t give my photos justice.” Instead, she favours exhibitions and physical spaces where her work can be fully appreciated.

Touching and engaging with creativity physically is as powerful a tool as snapping it to share online. Photo: Lukholo Mazibuko

Still, she acknowledges the tension between her method and the digital norm: “I also understand that now it seems like every time if you’re a photographer, you need to post or do a lot of work online.” This makes navigating online platforms a challenge for her.

Mohlatlole observed that the professionalisation of digital spaces has created new rules and new expectations. If you’re a photographer, you must have an Instagram presence. If you’re a writer, you must maintain consistent output. If you’re a creator, you must feed the algorithm. But not all editorial photographers reject algorithmic thinking as categorically as Nyanda does.

@nondumisoshangee – Creative director and photographer

Nondumiso Shange greets me through the computer screen, connecting and separating us, with an enthusiasm as palpable as her passion for the creative space.

Her entry into the space follows the familiar pattern of digital discovery: she was featured in iQHAWE after they reached out to her on Instagram.

Don’t have kids and you will make it out alive
Nondumiso Shange

As a creative, Shange is clear that she is conscious of social media when producing: “If I’m working with Netflix or Multichoice, I’m thinking, how am I going to post this on my feed? What will audience engagement look like? Otherwise, when I’m just doing something for me, then I don’t really think about the feed aspect of things.”

But what if the digital creative economy needs both acceleration and slowness? Both digital-first creatives producing at a consistent basis and traditionally grounded artists developing work that demands time? Both Instagram feeds and exhibitions? Both viral moments and long-form impact? Is it sustainable?

“You have to be super, super flexible all the time. The algorithms change so much, the interests change often,” Mohlatlole explains. “There’s an aspect of you having to ground yourself in something a little bit evergreen and also understand that the moment can change all the time.”

If your next few posts don’t perform well, you might lose out on paid collaborations. It creates a high-pressure environment, even though, ironically, it’s all happening on a platform like Instagram. “Don’t have kids and you will make it out alive,” chuckles Shange.

A lot of companies nowadays look at content creators and influencers as mini ad agencies. Photo: Supplied

Money, money, money, must be funny, in a digital creative’s world

Ideas cost money. Economic privilege is an ongoing battle for creatives.

Sebiloane faces the monetisation crisis that characterises much of South Africa’s creatives where there is this gap between reach and funding access.

“I think that they don’t take it seriously,” she says cynically of institutional funders and brand partners.

“We’ve seen a move of influencers being taken seriously. Unless you have a certain number or certain reach, forget about making money from your content.”

Shange is brutally honest about her own position: “I will say I am more on the privileged end. Not because I have money but because my parents have money.”

“I’m not worried about paying for rent. I’m not worried about groceries. I’m not worried about a roof over my head. I’m not worried about little things that some creatives do have to worry about on a daily basis.”

“Expressing my creative freedom is a bit easier for me as opposed to somebody who’s like actually, they need to work for money.”

Shange makes her living through direct commissions through offering her services as well as paid brand collaborations. Until then, “everything I do is out of pocket.”

“Success looks like me being able to pay rent,” muses Mohlatlole bluntly. She’s been deliberate about treating her creative work as a business from the beginning. “I’ve done the whole nine-to-five thing. My creative work has always been a business in my head.”

She has developed multiple revenue streams as a result.

Close up shot of content creator, Hlayisani Makhubele’s, phone propped on a tripod and displaying Tiktok while posing to shoot a video. Photo: Lukholo Mazibuko

“I take subscriptions on Patreon,” Mohlatlole explains. “My digital projects bring in the most revenue. And then from time to time, if it seems like a good idea, I will also do paid partnerships with brands.”

The creative cost of commercial work is undesirable at times, “Making ads is like torture. It’s like dragging your balls across glass,” she says with dark humour.

“A lot of companies nowadays look at content creators and influencers as mini ad agencies more than like working on actual storytelling content.”

Hlayisani Makhubele editing footage on her phone in the late hours of the night after shooting content during the day. Photo: Lukholo Mazibuko

Despite this, she’s pragmatic about the economic necessity. “If the money is good enough, I’ll take a check. Provided they align with what I can produce.”

Nyanda does not have the same mentality, but she would like to. “Because my work has just been very conceptual, I ask people to help me (for free). I haven’t been able to monetise. It’s just been passion projects.” When push comes to shove as a creative, “you have to work on the kindness of your friends to help you out,” says Mohlatlole.

Is it seriously every man for himself?

Hlayisani Makhubele preparing to shoot to a make-up tutorial for her TikTok. Photo: Lukholo Mazibuko

“The other thing with the digital space is that it’s quite dependent on you calling the shots,” says Mohlatlole, “but there’s such a lack of government funding and support.”

Mangena has experienced this first hand having to run a magazine.

@renaé_mangena – founder of iQHAWE Magazine, Digital Content Producer

“It needs money,” Mangena starts, giving a dry, mirthless chuckle with the kind of weariness that comes from knowing the biggest obstacle is always the budget.

She makes an analogy: “I can never go and say become the Minister of, I don’t know, a tech industry but I don’t know the first thing about the tech industry.” Yet somehow, cultural and creative policy is made by people disconnected from the realities of the sector.

Johannesburg’s 2040 Growth and Development Strategy doesn’t even mention the cultural and creative sector, despite the fact that Gauteng province, of which Johannesburg is the economic heart, contributes 46,3% to South Africa’s creative industry GDP and generates the highest employment impact in the sector.

Though there may be funding programs that require local governments agencies to partner with arts and cultural organisations in their cities and towns, iQHAWE is no stranger to the non-guaranteed system of applying for funding.  

“I can’t start season three of These Twenties without money!” exclaims Sebiloane.

“At times, it feels like if we had their undeniable support, it probably wouldn’t feel as fickle. It really is all on us,” says Mohlatlole with furrowed eyebrows. 

Hlayisani monetises her skill in makeup to support herself and using social media to attract clients is her go to. Photo: Lukholo Mazibuko

Reimagining a world-class status as a city

They’ve described an economy that barely exists yet clearly does; one that’s generating real income and real cultural impact despite being structurally unsupported.

They’re building world-class work in a city where new high-tech offices are built while waste piles higher on the next corner, where public parks will continue to rot and where first-come, first-go at perpetually faulty robots is the new norm on the road.

But tomorrow, they’ll all log back on. They’ll post and create and collaborate and network and build.

Because Johannesburg’s world-class status now belongs not to its infrastructure, but to its people. And they’re not waiting for permission to prove it.

FEATURED IMAGE: A woman in a dark room whose face is lit up by the screen of her phone. Photo: Lukholo Mazibuko

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