When CSI becomes core strategy

Discovery CSI Head, Andronica Mabuya, explains how integrated, measured partnerships can create lasting community impact, nationally

Andronica Mabuya says she has always been a social activist, committed to transforming socio-economic challenges into tangible results for emerging young leaders and communities. Mabuya joined Discovery in 2004, coming from one of the country’s biggest banks at the time, and worked her way through the ranks of leadership. In 2024, she was appointed Discovery’s CSI Head.

“I’m passionate about leading from the front as well as leading from the back. This allows me to both give active direction and feel the heartbeat of communities to identify how best to support them,” says Mabuya, who has an MBA and has completed the Advanced Leadership Programme at GIBS (Gordon Institute of Business Science).

Leading with purpose

For Mabuya, however, purpose remains the anchor. “At Discovery, we don’t just talk about business values—we live them. What we stand for isn’t just words on the wall; it is how we show up for society every single day.”

Discovery’s purpose—to make people healthier and to enhance and protect lives—also frames how she sees corporate social investment (CSI) changing. She is a firm believer in the credo that this purpose shapes not only the ‘what’ of social investment, but also the ‘how’.

“Everything starts with our core purpose, which is our lodestar: not just in terms of the projects we fund, but also of how we implement the projects within Discovery’s CSI strategy.”

In practice, that means backing initiatives and models that strengthen the systems that communities rely on, rather than chasing quick wins. For Mabuya, integrating CSI into strategy means taking accountability seriously, inside the business and across partners too.

Evolving CSI for measurable, scalable community impact

CSI has evolved over the years. The early era, Mabuya suggests, was largely based on philanthropy and aimed at short-term, reactive financial donations to specific causes.

“It was well-intentioned, but it didn’t fundamentally change anything because it wasn’t addressing issues in the underlying systems,” she says.

CSI then branched into becoming more strategic, as companies shifted from scattered donations to longer-term commitments.

“Instead of spreading small donations across many causes, companies focused on supporting programmes that leveraged their core competencies and business strengths to make a meaningful difference,” notes Mabuya.

She now believes a third phase is emerging, which she refers to as integrated or leveraged CSI, where CSI is built into the business’s model and is amplified through collaboration to extend social change.

“At Discovery, we view CSI and the programmes we support as part of our core strategy. This is not an add‑on or a box‑ticking exercise in corporate citizenship. It is a wholehearted investment in enhancing and protecting the lives of the communities we serve.”

CSI is systems work that is done with partners and backed by empirical data.

“It’s important to have outcomes that enable systemic change and have a broader influence.We aren’t only measuring activities,” she adds, noting that the work is harder, but the impact is deeper and more sustainable.

Discovery invests in communities where the need is greatest

Discovery delivers its CSI through long-term vehicles such as the Discovery Fund, the Discovery Foundation and its Force for Good platform, with the latter being the Group’s volunteer programme. Together, they focus heavily on supporting rural and under-served communities, where the need is greatest.

Those vehicles sit within four pillars. The first is health and wellbeing, which perfectly reflects Discovery’s own purpose. Then there’s roads and community safety, linked to Discovery Insure and behaviour change.

The third pillar is human capital and skills development, with education and training of healthcare professionals and specialists through the Discovery Foundation. The Discovery Foundation aims to help close the gap in human capital and skills by supporting the training of more medical specialists in public hospitals, so that high‑quality, specialised care becomes accessible to everyone—not only the few who can pay for it.

The fourth pillar is environmental restoration, which includes a pilot partnership with the City of Joburg to address the decaying of inner cities, and to scale the model in other regions.

Force for Good is crucial in deepening community capacity, with business units and employees sharing their time and skills with communities.

The logic behind this is shared value: CSI is embedded in how Discovery operates as a business, and when people get healthier, the business grows and society thrives.

“One of the biggest shifts that we focused on is moving faster, from our pilot projects to truly scaled programmes,” she says.

Driving meaningful change through smarter models

Another priority, as Mabuya mentioned, is outcomes measurement, as it is “no longer enough to just count tasks”. Discovery is committed to understanding real-life changes over time, using mixed methods of evaluation, and bringing in the community voice along with tracking longer-term impact.

Mabuya also argues for blended finance.
“Blended finance models are needed to unlock more capital behind what works. If we could realise that the CSI space is not a competitive one for corporates, we could actually pull resources together for more positive, far-reaching societal outcomes,” she says, adding that it is crucial to “start with the system, not the projects”. Key to this is mapping bottlenecks, identifying relevant players and choosing leverage points. Do fewer things for longer and co-create with communities so people have a voice and capacity is built for handover.

Mabuya believes that her CSI journey shaped her leadership more than any textbook could, adding that integrity of purpose matters, as communities know if you’re there for the long haul or just for appearances. Partnership is a discipline and, she believes, “magic only happens when you start listening as much as you lead”.

She also keeps returning to balance: “Data and empathy aren’t necessarily opposites. Data tells you what’s happening, while the lived experience tells you why it’s happening.”

Mabuya’s proudest moments remain the ones that will outlive her, such as when a community or NGO takes full ownership of a programme, when a specialist supported through a Discovery Foundation fellowship contributes research and trains the next generation, or when a clinic team achieves better outcomes because of tools put in place. She also cites being invited to New York as a Global Leader when the United Nations launched the 2026 International Volunteer Year.

Ultimately, the legacy she hopes to leave is one of lasting capacity, by empowering people and building systems that continue to thrive long after leaders have moved on, and that are grounded in equity, accountability and sustainable impact that endures on its own.

“While South Africa has no shortage of problems, there is also no shortage of people who can solve them. It’s about leadership and deciding what our role is in helping to shrink the gap between the two.

Our job in CSI is to connect those people, to bring the tools and to stay long enough to see the change through. We need to be the voice that speaks in the broader region, in Africa and globally. When purpose meets capability and persistence, that’s when you get an impact that lasts.”

Minister Siviwe Gwarube and the discipline of governing education

Busi Radebe profiles South Africa’s Minister of Basic Education,
Siviwe Gwarube, and finds that thanks to her continued
commitment and accessibility, basic education is on the right track

 When Siviwe Gwarube arrived for her first day as South Africa’s Minister of Basic Education on 3 July 2024, she carried with her more than political credentials or the symbolism of a Cabinet appointment. She arrived with a lived understanding of how South Africa works and how it fails. Raised in KwaMdingi, a rural village in the Eastern Cape, and later schooled in the suburbs of King William’s Town, Gwarube grew up navigating the reality of two vastly different South Africas. One offered predictability, opportunity, and institutional functionality. The other demanded resilience in the face of structural neglect. The lesson was clear and enduring in that where you are born still largely determines how far you are likely to go in this country.

That understanding has shaped the way she approaches leadership. As Minister of Basic Education, Gwarube does not govern from abstraction or ideology, but from a grounded reading of institutional weakness and social consequence. Her leadership is informed by the belief that public service, when disciplined and ethical, remains one of the most powerful instruments for social change. In her framing, education is not a rhetorical priority. It is infrastructure.

When it works, it expands life chances. When it fails, it entrenches inequality across generations.

Raised by a teacher and guided by a grandmother who believed that education sits at the centre of South Africa’s response to unemployment, inequality, and social fracture, Gwarube’s orientation toward public service was forged early. Education was never presented to her as an aspiration alone. It was presented as a system that either functions for you or quietly forecloses your future. That grounding matters in a sector burdened by decades of reform fatigue, uneven capacity, and political defensiveness.

Her formal entry into public life began at Rhodes University through student leadership and advocacy. It was there that she learned how representation works and how quickly legitimacy is lost when leadership becomes detached from accountability. After university, she entered national politics as a spokesperson to the Leader of the Official Opposition, a role that demanded clarity under pressure and an ability to translate complex policy debates into public meaning. The work sharpened her understanding of how institutions communicate trust and how easily that trust can be eroded.

From there, she moved into executive government in the Western Cape, serving as Head of Ministry in the Department of Health. The transition from opposition politics to administration proved formative for her and presented new challenges. In government, policy ceased to be an argument and became a system measured in service delivery, institutional coherence, and public confidence. Health, like education, leaves little room for theory. Decisions taken at the centre surface quickly shows up in communities and households. That exposure to implementation and consequence would later shape Gwarube’s approach to basic education, a department long criticised for the distance between ambition and classroom reality.

She returned to Parliament as a Member of the National Assembly during a period of national strain, as South Africa grappled with the early impact of COVID-19. Rising through the ranks of the Official Opposition to become Chief Whip, she developed a reputation for organisational discipline and procedural focus. Parliament, she argued consistently, only matters if it remains oriented toward the lives of citizens rather than the preservation of political theatre. That insistence on institutional seriousness would follow her into the executive.

Her appointment as Minister of Basic Education came unexpectedly, but not unprepared. Education was never theoretical to her and that framing has proven to be critical in a portfolio where leadership is tested not by announcements, but by the capacity to prioritise under constraint. Those constraints arrived quickly. The Basic Education Laws Amendment (BELA) process demanded political judgment and institutional stability. Tragedies such as the deaths of more than 11 children in the Mthatha floods and the catastrophic Vaal accident that clawimed the lives of 14 children cut through abstraction entirely, underscoring a hard truth that governance failures in education carry life and death consequences.

Rather than retreating into bureaucracy, Gwarube began her tenure with a national Listening and Learning Tour during her first 100 days in office. She travelled extensively, visiting schools across provinces and engaging directly with teachers, principals, parents, and learners. It was a deliberate leadership choice. Reform under her leadership would begin with listening rather than decree. What she encountered in the corridors and communities where children are taught was sobering. Overcrowded classrooms. Ageing infrastructure. Unsafe learning environments. Educators who are stretched thin by administrative burdens and budgetary constraints. Yet she also encountered commitment. Teachers showing up daily under deeply challenging conditions, still determined to teach.

That experience sharpened her sense of responsibility. Education leadership, she concluded, is not about visibility or rhetoric. It is about accountability to those who carry the system on their backs. The Listening and Learning Tour also reinforced a central insight that now underpins her approach. No policy reform can succeed without an honest understanding of conditions on the ground and without the trust of those expected to implement it.

That insight anchors her leadership philosophy. At its core is a belief that education reform must be ethical, evidence based, and relentlessly learner centred. Policy must serve outcomes rather than ideology. Decisions must be guided by data and implementation capacity rather than political convenience. Institutions must exist to enable learning, not to shield inefficiency. Three principles shape her approach. Equity is understood as fairness rather than sameness. Excellence that raises standards rather than lowers expectations. Integrity that tolerates neither corruption nor mismanagement in a sector that shapes the country’s future.

Public scrutiny of Gwarube’s leadership has often focused on matric outcomes, particularly following the release of the 2025 National Senior Certificate results. South Africa achieved an 88% pass rate, the highest in the country’s democratic history. While acknowledging the significance of this milestone, Gwarube has consistently cautioned against treating matric performance as a definitive measure of system health. She has pointed to concerning declines in key gateway subjects such as Mathematics, Economics, and Accounting, alongside persistent disparities between provinces and between urban and rural schools. At the same time, she has highlighted that 66% of Bachelor passes came from no fee schools, underscoring that strong outcomes are possible even under constrained conditions. For Gwarube, matric results are not an endpoint but a reflection of what has occurred throughout the schooling cycle, reinforcing her view that sustainable improvement begins in the early grades rather than at the point of exit.

That diagnosis has driven a reorientation of departmental priorities. Foundational literacy and numeracy are treated as non negotiable. Early childhood development has been positioned as central to long term reform, particularly in provinces such as KwaZulu-Natal, Limpopo, and the Eastern Cape where early learning opportunities remain most uneven. The objective is not simply access, but readiness, ensuring that children enter formal schooling able to learn and progress with confidence.

Teacher development sits at the centre of this agenda. Gwarube has been explicit that the quality of an education system cannot exceed the quality of its teachers. Her focus has shifted toward continuous professional development, stronger subject matter support, and leadership training for school principals. She has argued that reform cannot be episodic or compliance driven. It must accompany teachers throughout their careers and respect their professional judgement.

She has also confronted a quieter but deeply corrosive problem. Administrative overload. Drawing on research from Stellenbosch University, Gwarube acknowledged the reporting burden imposed by multiple departmental tools and compliance mechanisms. In response, she initiated efforts to reduce unnecessary bureaucracy with the aim of returning teachers’ time and energy to teaching and learning. The objective is not deregulation for its own sake, but functional clarity in a system that has too often confused oversight with effectiveness.

Equity in her leadership framework extends beyond curriculum. It includes school safety, learner wellbeing, and the integrity of support systems. The National School Nutrition Programme is treated not as a welfare add on, but as an educational imperative. Under her leadership, this programme that has often fallen prey to corruption much to the detriment of the children that depend on it in order to thrive at school, will be made more efficient. A hungry child cannot learn. An unsafe school cannot function. A system that tolerates corruption cannot credibly claim to pursue fairness. Restoring institutional trust, she has argued, is as important as delivering new programmes.

Technology and innovation feature in her vision, but with discipline. Digital tools must serve pedagogy rather than substitute for it. Robotics and coding cannot compensate for weak literacy and numeracy. Sequencing matters. When foundations are strong, technology becomes an enabler of opportunity rather than a driver of inequality. This pragmatic stance reflects a broader insistence on doing the basics well before layering on ambition.

Throughout her tenure, Gwarube has emphasised the role of parents and communities. Schools do not operate in isolation. Performance is consistently stronger where families are engaged and learning is reinforced beyond the school gate through routine, expectation, and shared responsibility. Education, in her view, is a social compact as much as a state function.

Looking ahead, her vision is focused and institutional rather than personal. She speaks less about sweeping overhauls than about rebuilding foundations. A system where every child has access to quality early learning. Where every classroom is led by a supported teacher. Where institutions function with integrity and purpose. The legacy she seeks is not acclaim, but improvement.

Success, in her terms, will be measured by whether South Africa hands future generations an education system that works better than the one it inherited. Education, she often says, is the architecture of opportunity. Under Siviwe Gwarube’s leadership, basic education is being asked to recover its moral and institutional authority and to answer a defining question of the democratic era. Whether the state still has the capacity, discipline, and courage to make opportunity predictable rather than accidental.

This is the challenge that defines her tenure. Not whether the system can produce isolated moments of success, but whether it can consistently deliver dignity, quality, and fairness to every child who enters a South African classroom.

With Gwarube’s continued commitment and accessibility, basic education is on the right track as it is a department that requires a leader who is unafraid to tackle difficult questions. Her leadership remains a testament that young people are competent and they can lead. When given a chance, they often rise to the occasion and supersede all expectation. They take criticism in their stride, employ holistic approaches that seek to leave no one behind and actively engage with all stakeholders in order to produce results that the country can be proud of. Results that change lives contribute to a better life for all, regardless of where they were born.

Busi Radebe is the General Manager for Media and Digital Technology at Frank Dialogue Holdings.

Unlocking opportunity in South Africa’s SME economy

How Sourcefin and TenderCentral are connecting access to opportunity with practical funding

South Africa’s small business sector generates real economic value every day. SMEs fulfil purchase orders, supply corporates and government, and keep supply chains moving. Yet many still struggle to access the capital and opportunities needed to grow. The challenge is often not capability or ambition, but systems that were never designed for how SMEs actually operate.

Addressing this misalignment is central to the approach taken by Sourcefin, a South African alternative finance provider and fintech focused on enabling what it calls the “forgotten SMME”. Since launching in 2020, the company has deployed more than R2.8 billion in funding to over 1,000 SMEs across sectors including construction, manufacturing, agriculture, healthcare, education and public supply chains.

Through solutions such as purchase order funding and invoice financing, Sourcefin helps businesses deliver on confirmed work, stabilise cash flow and build long-term credibility. With the launch of TenderCentral, a free platform that aggregates publicly available tenders into one searchable space, the company is now extending its mission beyond funding to address another barrier facing SMEs: access to opportunity itself.

“At the heart of the problem is misalignment,” the company notes. “Most SMMEs operate in the real economy. They win purchase orders, deliver to corporates or government, and issue invoices. But the traditional funding system they are told to rely on was not designed around that reality.”

Traditional banking structures typically assess collateral, historical financials and credit scores. While these criteria are important from a risk perspective, they can exclude growing businesses that may have legitimate contracts but limited assets.

“So, if you are a growing SMME with a legitimate purchase order but limited assets, you are often declined – not because the opportunity is bad, but because it does not fit the model.”

Sourcefin approaches the problem differently by focusing on the transaction itself rather than the balance sheet of the business.

“Instead of asking, ‘What assets do you have?’ we ask, ‘What is the transaction, and how do we structure it safely?’ We fund around specific purchase orders and approved invoices. We align repayment with cash flow. We assess the credibility of the transaction, not just the balance sheet.”

This transaction-based approach has enabled hundreds of SMEs to fulfil confirmed contracts that might otherwise have stalled due to cash flow constraints. Over time, however, another challenge became clear: many businesses were struggling to find opportunities in the first place.

Removing the Friction Around Opportunity

For many SMEs, tender opportunities represent an important pathway to growth. Yet accessing those opportunities is often more complicated than it should be.

“The first gap we identified was access to information,” Sourcefin notes. “Many of our clients wanted to grow through tenders but struggled to find opportunities in one reliable, accessible place.”

Government portals can be difficult to navigate or fragmented across departments. Alternative tender aggregation sites often sit behind paywalls or provide incomplete information. For small business owners already managing operations, compliance and cash flow, this complexity becomes a barrier to participation.

TenderCentral was created to simplify access to opportunity by aggregating publicly available tenders into a single searchable platform where businesses can easily discover and track opportunities. Just as importantly, the platform is free.

“Because exclusion compounds inequality,” the company explains. “SMEs are the backbone of our economy, and many operate with limited resources. Charging them for access to publicly available opportunity felt misaligned with our mission.”

Reframing the Tender Conversation

Public-sector procurement in South Africa often carries a negative reputation, largely shaped by governance failures and high-profile corruption cases. While scrutiny remains essential, Sourcefin believes the broader narrative can discourage legitimate businesses from engaging with tender opportunities.

“We believe in balanced conversations,” the company says. “Yes, procurement failures exist and must be addressed. But the tender mechanism itself is not the problem. In fact, it is one of the most powerful ways for SMMEs to access meaningful contracts.”

Rather than trying to reshape perceptions through marketing alone, TenderCentral focuses on improving transparency and accessibility. By centralising publicly available information and making it easier to search and track opportunities, the platform reduces the perception that tenders are opaque, or insider driven.

Sourcefin also emphasises that opportunity must be matched with readiness.

“Visibility alone is not enough. Readiness requires proper compliance documentation, sound pricing models, operational capacity to deliver and strong cash-flow planning.”

Over the years, the company has learned that funding works best when paired with practical support and education. Through its broader ecosystem, which includes partnerships, access to vetted suppliers, operational support and educational initiatives such as The Great Enabler Podcast, Sourcefin aims to demystify both funding and procurement so SMEs can participate more sustainably.

Connecting Opportunity to Funding

In many ways, TenderCentral represents the next step in Sourcefin’s evolution. Historically, the company enabled SMEs once they had already secured contracts. Supporting entrepreneurs earlier in the value chain helps unlock opportunity more broadly.

“TenderCentral sits upstream of funding,” Sourcefin explains. “If we truly want to enable the forgotten SMME, we must help them find opportunity as well.”

Together, TenderCentral and Sourcefin create a more complete pathway for SME growth. Businesses can discover opportunities, access structured funding and deliver on contracts with greater confidence.

Early feedback suggests the platform is meeting a real need. Many SMEs are exploring opportunities across multiple sectors rather than limiting themselves to one category, reflecting the resilience and adaptability that characterises much of the SME ecosystem.

Feedback on usability has also been encouraging. Entrepreneurs have commented on how easy the platform is to navigate and search, and how helpful it is to track tenders of interest. Features such as favouriting opportunities and linking funding applications directly to tenders help reduce friction between discovering opportunities and acting on them.

Measuring Real Impact

For Sourcefin, success is not measured by platform traffic alone.

“Visibility is the starting point, not the destination.”

Instead, the company tracks indicators such as repeat platform usage, tenders saved or tracked by users, and funding applications linked to specific opportunities. More importantly, it looks at whether SMEs are participating more credibly, bidding more competitively and scaling sustainably.

One of the most encouraging internal trends has been the growth in the size of contracts businesses are pursuing.

“Companies that historically bid on R100 000 contracts are now exploring multimillion-rand opportunities. That shift reflects increased confidence, ambition and capability.”

When businesses move beyond survival-level work and begin accessing structured growth opportunities, the broader economic impact becomes clearer.

Aligning the Future of SME Growth

Looking ahead Sourcefin believes meaningful change will depend on greater alignment across the systems that shape SME growth.

Culturally, perceptions must shift from seeing SMEs as inherently risky to recognising them as capable participants in structured ecosystems. Operationally, procurement processes must continue improving transparency and payment discipline, particularly in public-sector environments where delayed payments remain one of the biggest constraints on growth. Digitally, platforms must reduce friction and centralise information so entrepreneurs can readily access opportunities.

When opportunity visibility, funding structures and operational execution align, SME growth accelerates. Ultimately, reshaping access to economic opportunity is not about replacing existing systems. It is about evolving them, so they reflect the realities of the real economy.

And when SMEs thrive the impact extends far beyond individual businesses. It strengthens supply chains, communities and the broader South African economy.

From strategic alignment to African innovation

Olona Majikijela delves into the leadership of Masande Dyasi

In a world where technology evolves faster than most organisations can adapt, few leaders stand out for bringing clarity to complexity. One of them is Masande Dyasi, Managing Director of Sourceworx, who has built a leadership philosophy rooted not in the allure of technology but in its purpose.

For Dyasi, leadership is not about leading people into the future blindly. It is about aligning technology to real business problems, creating environments where people are empowered to think critically, and serving Africa’s unique context with solutions designed for its realities. His career has been shaped by a simple yet powerful observation: complexity does not guarantee value. Clarity does.

The Early Shift: From Overengineering to Purpose

Dyasi’s leadership journey began with a sharp realisation. Many technology projects do not fail because of the lack of skill or resources. They fail because they are misaligned with the lived realities of the people meant to use them. He recalls seeing organisations invest significant budgets into systems and tools only to find that they were not fit for purpose.

“The projects that succeeded were those where technology was critically aligned with real customer priorities,” he reflects.

This discovery became foundational to his leadership approach. Rather than chasing complexity or cutting-edge trends, he pursued disciplined simplicity. In his view, leadership in tech is not defined by how advanced the tools are, but by how effectively they serve people.

Sourceworx: A Repositioning with Purpose

When Dyasi took leadership at Sourceworx, he recognised that remaining a standard IT services provider would not be enough to make meaningful impact. The African technology landscape had a clear gap. Businesses were investing in technology but were not always seeing measurable business outcomes. Something needed to change.

Under his leadership, Sourceworx repositioned itself as a strategic technology partner. To do this, he began engaging directly with C-suite leaders and converting their strategies into practical implementation. Transformation became a business-led process rather than a technology-led one. The rule was simple: strategy first, technology second.

However, transformation could not only rely on systems and frameworks. It required people who were skilled, aligned and confident. Dyasi prioritised upskilling teams, building capacity and fostering a culture of clarity where people understood strategic intent and could deliver measurable outcomes.

He is guided by a simple belief: technology should enhance human capability, not replace it. This principle continues to guide Sourceworx today.

EdVantage: Innovation Rooted in Context

The COVID-19 pandemic became a defining moment for Sourceworx. Across Africa, educational and training institutions faced a crisis. Skills development programmes came to a standstill. Global learning platforms existed but they could not adapt quickly enough to local realities.

Instead of waiting for solutions, Sourceworx built EdVantage, a learning management solution designed specifically for the African context. It enabled seamless remote delivery, real-time learner management and quick programme scaling. It responded to real needs instead of imposing generic models.

Many institutions later used its structure to formalise blended learning approaches. EdVantage proved that technology does not need to simply imitate global solutions. It can originate from African challenges and respond directly to them.

It also became a real example of Dyasi’s philosophy in motion: when technology understands its environment, it becomes powerful.

Leadership Through Hard Choices

Dyasi’s leadership did not evolve in comfort. Instead, it was tested through difficult decisions that shaped his understanding of integrity, strategy and resilience.

In 2010, following early successes in South Africa and Kenya, he made the difficult decision to part ways with his partners because of a misalignment in vision. It was a moment of reflection that forced him to ask himself what kind of company he wanted to build. The experience reminded him that leadership is anchored in integrity, even when decisions are not easy.

Several years later, he made another bold shift. In 2017, as major contracts were nearing renewal, he redirected the company’s strategy toward strengthening Original Equipment Manufacturer partnerships and pursuing accreditations. The decision required sacrifice and long-term commitment. However, it later positioned Sourceworx for sustainability and relevance in the market.

Both decisions shaped his leadership in profound ways. They taught him that leadership is not about comfort. It is about values and long-term clarity, even when the impact is not immediately visible.

His Leadership Philosophy: Minimal Viable Solutions

One of Dyasi’s strongest leadership beliefs is rooted in the principle of the minimal viable solution. As technology evolves rapidly, teams are often tempted to gravitate toward advanced features and tools. Yet, for him, innovation must be practical, scalable and tied directly to measurable outcomes.

The question he constantly returns to is: What is the simplest version of this solution that will still solve the problem effectively?

He believes that organisations often over solve problems or implement systems that do not align with the actual needs of employees or customers. This results in wasted resources and fragmented implementations.

By focusing on clarity, relevance and outcome-driven models, Dyasi ensures that innovation is purposeful rather than performative.

Resilience in Teams: The Power of Questioning

The culture at Sourceworx reflects one of his core leadership principles: resilience through open dialogue. Teams are encouraged to challenge assumptions, ask questions and interrogate problems. Junior team members are given space to contribute ideas rather than simply follow instructions.

“Resilience comes from cultures where questioning is encouraged, not suppressed,” he explains.

This approach ensures that solutions are examined from multiple angles and potential gaps are identified early. It also builds strong alignment between strategy and implementation.

For Dyasi, leadership is not about having all the answers. It is about building spaces where the right questions can be asked freely.

Africa’s Technology Future: Beyond Replication

Asked whether Africa needs its own model of digital transformation, his response is direct: Africa’s challenges and strengths require unique approaches. Our continent has a history of developing inventive solutions while operating within limited resources. These constraints have often led to more creative, flexible and efficient problem-solving than conventional methods.

He refers to M-Pesa, developed in East Africa in the mid-2000s, as one of the best examples. It transformed financial inclusion and inspired a global wave of mobile money solutions. M-Pesa succeeded because it was rooted in African realities such as mobile-first behaviour, informal trade systems and infrastructure limitations.

Africa does not need to replicate global standards. Instead, it needs to build on its strengths: community-driven innovation, agile thinking and strong mobile ecosystems. These strengths position Africa to create globally relevant solutions while remaining grounded in local context.

Strategic Partnerships and Africa’s Next Phase

With South Africa preparing for the 2025 G20 Presidency, there is a growing focus on advancing digital transformation across key sectors.

Agriculture and healthcare have been identified as strategic priorities for Africa’s growth. Technology in these areas is becoming critical for strengthening food security, enhancing productivity and building resilient health systems.

Dyasi believes that strategic partnerships play a vital role in unlocking Africa’s innovation potential. However, strategic alignment and access to capital are still challenges. President Cyril Ramaphosa has called for G20 bodies to ease access to finance for African economies. Without affordable capital, high-impact technology cannot scale.

He argues that partnerships should move beyond transactional arrangements and instead drive capacity building, shared infrastructure and talent development across borders. He also believes that collaboration among African countries is essential. With complementary strengths and emerging innovation hubs, African countries can build shared digital ecosystems that scale regionally and beyond.

What He Looks for in People

When hiring or collaborating, Dyasi is drawn to individuals who possess curiosity, integrity and a desire to improve every environment they engage with. Skills alone are not enough. He values character, learning agility and the ability to think beyond one’s role.

His leadership style aims to build a human-centred approach, even within an industry driven by systems, automation and data. He believes that technology should empower people rather than replace them. By enhancing productivity, elevating job satisfaction and creating environments where people can think differently, he hopes to build organisations that are both efficient and humane.

Advice to Young African Leaders

To young leaders in the technology space, he offers advice that goes beyond ambition. He encourages them to solve real problems, rooted in real contexts. Technology should not simply imitate global trends. It must respond to people, industries and communities that need meaningful solutions.

He encourages leaders to value cross-disciplinary collaboration. The most powerful innovation, he believes, happens at the intersection of different fields. He urges young African innovators to stay rooted in their environment but to think globally. Some of the most transformative ideas in the world were born in Africa because they were designed for African realities.

Looking Ahead: A Leadership Vision for the Next Decade

As Africa steps into a new digital era, Dyasi believes the next major differentiator will not be access to technology but how leaders choose to apply it. The future, in his view, will reward organisations that can connect strategic intention with practical delivery and build solutions that are both commercially viable and socially valuable. He strongly advocates for leadership models that blend ethical decision-making with innovation, noting that progress without accountability often creates solutions that exclude the people who need them most.

His long-term vision extends beyond Sourceworx. He hopes to help shape a generation of African leaders who are confident enough to question inherited systems and imaginative enough to create their own. Technology may drive change, but it will be values, integrity and strategic courage that determine the future of African business. “If we can build in a way that reflects our reality and serves it well,” he says, “Africa will not follow global shifts. It will help define them.”

Legacy and Reflection

Beyond Sourceworx, Dyasi wants to contribute to a business landscape where strategic alignment, operational excellence and human-centred innovation are normalised. His hope is that African businesses become globally recognised not only for creativity but also for their efficiency, impact and scalability.

When asked what leadership means when no one is watching, his answer captures the essence of his journey.

“Leadership when no one is watching is about integrity, accountability and making quiet decisions that shape culture. It is the discipline to do what is right, even when it is difficult or unseen.”

Masande Dyasi’s leadership may appear calm from the outside. But beneath the surface is a relentless drive for clarity, alignment and purpose. His story reminds us that real transformation does not begin with technology. It begins with the courage to think differently, the discipline to act with clarity and the belief that Africa does not need to wait for the future. It can build it.

With vision, integrity, and deep strategic alignment, he is proving that Africa’s most powerful technology is its leadership.

Olona Majikijela is a Junior Account Director at the Sgwili Media Group.

Why scenario planning belongs at the centre of your budgeting and forecasting cycles

For many organisations, financial planning still centres on a single approved view of the year ahead. The budget is finalised, locked in and used as the primary reference point for performance tracking.

In practice, that approach is increasingly fragile because it leaves little room to test assumptions as conditions change. Cost structures shift, revenue drivers behave differently to plan, and external pressures introduce variance that cannot be addressed through reporting alone. Strategic planning requires finance teams to look beyond variance explanations and actively model how different outcomes would affect the business before they materialise.

Moving beyond a single view

”Scenario planning extends planning beyond a single forecast and allows finance leaders to assess exposure, understand sensitivity and prepare responses in advance,” says Alwyn Pretorius, GM at Infinitus Reporting, who provide software and services to group FP&A and reporting teams.

He adds that one needs the ability to ‘tweak’ various drivers, in order to test multiple assumptions likely to be affected by different micro- and macro circumstances. This way, organisations can identify potential pressure points and make informed choices without waiting for actual results to dictate action.

What’s more, forecast models need to be dynamic and flexible in order to re-calculate fiscal outcomes as and when key assumptions are adjusted, all while maintaining record of the different scenarios being calculated. Business leaders need to compare outcomes side by side in order to assess risk, impact and opportunity across the different scenarios.

Data collection and collaboration

”Even in well-resourced finance teams, data collection remains a bottleneck. Planning requires inputs from operational areas that may not sit in finance or have direct access to accounting or reporting systems. The challenge is the same whether consolidating for reporting or for planning,” says Pretorius.

Effective scenario planning incorporates this reality. It requires processes and tools that allow operational teams to submit forecasts in context, while giving finance visibility and control over aggregation, assumptions and influencing factors. This makes scenario testing scalable across units, regions and business functions.

Aligning strategy with execution

Scenario planning is valuable only if it informs decision-making. Comparing alternative forecasts against the original budget and against each other reveals where assumptions matter most, where risks are concentrated, and where contingency plans should be in place. This transforms planning from an administrative exercise into a strategic lever, allowing organisations to act with foresight rather than react to deviation.

”Modelling multiple outcomes and linking them to actionable responses ensures finance teams equip leadership with the information needed to navigate volatility,” says Pretorius. ”This approach strengthens resilience and supports agile decision-making, giving the business confidence to invest, control costs or pivot where necessary.

Planning as a continuous discipline

Strong financial planning is not a once-a-year task. It’s continuous. This allows organisations to identify trends and adjust assumptions in order to recalibrate decisions throughout the year.

”The goal is not in predicting the future perfectly, but in preparing for multiple possibilities. Scenario planning is crucial in this way, and in allowing organisations to move beyond reactive reporting to better anticipate risk and make decisions with clarity,” concluded Pretorius.

Terror Lekota: a gallant fighter who strayed and stubbornly chose to stay in the wilderness

Thebe Mabanga remembers the late
Terror Lekota, who passed away on 4 March 2026

I was at the Five Flies restaurant behind parliament, not far from the Western Cape High Court in Cape Town, when Mosiuoa Patrick “Terror” Lekota, the anti-apartheid activist and founder of the Congress of the People (COPE), who has died at the age of 77, planted the seeds of implosion of the very party he had established or, to use a more current metaphor, dropped the bomb that ultimately destroyed COPE.

COPE had been established in December 2008 by Lekota, former Gauteng Premier Mbhazima Shilowa, the late Mluleki George, after famously serving “divorce papers” to the ANC over its treatment and expulsion of former President Thabo Mbeki under former President Jacob Zuma’s presidency following his victory at the controversial 2007 Polokwane elective conference.

So loyal was Lekota to Mbeki that he sometimes mirrored the former president’s most controversial instincts.

In a 2009 interview, when asked directly whether HIV causes AIDS, Lekota declined to answer, saying: “Look I am not an expert on HIV and AIDS and I don’t want to venture an opinion on whether it does or not—I am not a medical doctor.”

As a parliamentary correspondent, I witnessed the party’s spectacular electoral debut, when it amassed 1.3 million votes—7.42%—and a respectable 30 seats in Parliament.

It quickly carved out space in the legislature. Lekota, however, largely stayed out of the parliamentary fray, opting instead to remain at headquarters to consolidate the project.

From there, COPE established monthly media briefings at the Five Flies, where various leaders would address the parliamentary press corps.

The party’s face and leader in parliament was the Reverend Mvume Dandala while Shilowa was its chief whip.

Phillip Dexter was its national spokesperson and had, months earlier, set the tone for the briefings with a brilliant exposition on COPE’s position on a range of national matters and work in various committees.

The briefings became a staple for journalists looking for news and, ahem, a drink.

Then came Lekota’s turn.

After giving the usual issues in the environment briefing, he started speaking in what felt like riddles almost in lowered tones. It was not quite clear what he was saying.

He spoke about problems with COPE’s parliamentary finances and alluded to how “the Chief Whip is in charge of party finances”.

He did not name Shilowa, and it was not clear what he had done.

It needed follow-up and direct questions to ask if he was accusing Shilowa of wrongdoing, but even then he was coy.

Why would Shilowa, who probably did not need his chief whip salary and who could be kept by wealthy spouse Wendy Luhabe if he chose to, steal what must have felt like petty cash? No clear answer, or indeed direct accusation, was given, but the damage was done.

The remarks morphed into a full-blown fall out that drove Shilowa out of COPE and politics—with no hint of bitterness—to a comfortable married life with a rare glimpse of a public profile.

With that followed a spiral that could not be contained.

COPE meandered ideologically and suffered electoral decline.

By the 2014 elections, the party won just three seats as voters grew disillusioned.

Its leaders, like Dennis Bloem, became caricatures even as they tried to pronounce on various matters with conviction and indignation.

Ideologically, COPE tried to inexplicably fraternise with Afrikaner right wing parties as Lekota—and activist with roots in the Black Consciousness Movement (BCM)—cuddled with former oppressors on certain issues.

The party was doomed and Lekota’s own health declined with it, never to fully recover.

The political commentator Makhosini Mgitywa makes the point that when Zuma left the ANC, Lekota and his acolytes, with whatever was left of his members and voters, should have simply folded back to the ANC, and he would have died in his political home.

But ego and a sense of diminished power allowed him to carry his tattered flag to flutter in the wind while he shouted inaudible complaints about the state of the nation that no one really listened to.

His time in the wilderness will instead be remembered for another bomb he threw when, with no proper context or provocation, he alleged that President Cyril Ramaphosa was a collaborator with the apartheid government, based on his supposed treatment during detention. A damaging but unsubstantiated claim thrown like a grenade by a bitter, exiled family member.

That is the latter half of Lekota’s life, and it would be unfair or incorrect to remember him as such.

He was a distinguished freedom fighter who served the country and ANC in many capacities, some with distinction.

The ANC will rightly eulogise him in death.

They should even consider conferring on him Isithwalandwe/Seaparankwe posthumously, such was his service to the party.

COPE did far less damage than those led by Julius Malema, the Economic Freedom Fighters in 2014, and most telling the uMkhonto weSizwe Party (MKP) led by Zuma, in 2024, to loosen the ANC’s grip on power.

Following its unbanning in 1990, Lekota was elected to the ANC’s National Executive Committee (NEC) and National Working Committee (NWC) at its Durban Conference in 1991.

He went on to serve as the party’s National Chairperson for a decade leading up to the fateful 2007 Polokwane Conference.

Lekota served as Free State Premier from 1994 to 1996 and then served as chair of the National Council of Provinces (NCOP).

This was before serving as the country’s minister of defence from 1999 to September 2008, when he resigned following Mbeki’s recall.

In that role he would have played a part in the country’s post democracy scandal, the arms deal.

Yet supporters of his nemesis Zuma will point out that, unlike Zuma, he has not been hounded in courts.

Lekota’s contribution to establish democracy is distinguished and undisputed.

He was a Delmas Treason Trialist and was convicted alongside the late Moss Chikane and former North West Premier Popo Molefe, among others.

Earlier in his struggle career, he had been detained in the 70s to the early 80s for his activism.

Following his release in the 80s, he was elected as publicity secretary of the United Democratic Front (UDF) the vehicle for internal resistance where he served alongside Ramaphosa, who he later embarrassed with spy claims, as well as former finance minister Trevor Manuel.

Lekota’s political activism led to his expulsion from a social science degree from the then University of the North where he served in structures aligned to the Black Consciousness Movement (BCM) around the same time as renowned activist Onkgopotse Tiro, who was killed by a parcel bomb in Botswana.

This led to his imprisonment in Robben Island from 1974 to 1982 alongside former President Nelson Mandela and many others. He thus holds the distinction of being a Robben Islander and internal resistance leader. Zuma, for example, is a Robben Islander with a history of exile.

Lekota was born in Kroonstad in 1948, the year apartheid became national policy, and was educated in Matatiele before completing his schooling at St Francis in Marianhill.

Maybe that is the gallant fighter the world must choose to remember.

Mosiuoa Terror Lekota

Minister of Defence

Founder of Cope

13 August 1948 to 4 March 2026.

Thebe Mabanga is a writer for Inside Politics: The African Narrative.

This article was originally published by Inside Politics: The African Narrative. It appears with permission.

Picking the brain of the Minister of Human Settlements

Minister of Human Settlements, Thembi Simelane, speaks to Leadership about the current state of housing in South Africa

South Africa enters 2026 with renewed economic momentum after years of low growth and stagnation. Recent recovery has been supported by public–private partnerships, where organised business collaborates with government to address systemic constraints—outcomes that have been recognised by ratings agencies and financial observers.

Despite progress, a significant housing deficit persists. South Africa continues to grapple with an acute shortage of affordable homes, particularly in the so-called “gap market”.

These are the households that earn too much to qualify for fully-subsidised government housing but too little to secure private financing, with studies showing a backlog of at least 2.2 million housing units in this segment of the market.

We spoke with the Minister of Human Settlements, Thembi Simelane, about the Department’s plans to work with the private sector to reduce the backlog and stimulate growth within the construction sector.

Creating Sustainable Human Settlements

Minister Simelane: “It’s vital to clarify why the Department of Human Settlements exists. Our mandate is not only to build houses but to create integrated human settlements—places where people live, work, and play.

This requires recreation of social amenities, access to clean water, electricity and roads, and proximity to economic opportunities. That is essential for inclusive economic growth. Ownership remains one of the most effective ways for individuals to ascend the social and economic ladder, and it remains a core focus for government.”

This approach aligns with the Department’s stated mandate, which emphasises sustainable development, spatial integration, and improved quality of life for households.

Understanding the Housing Backlog

Leadership: “You mention more than three million people are waiting for housing. What is the true scale of the current residential housing shortfall?”

Minister Simelane: “The figure of three million refers to people who qualify for the 40m² RDP house—the subsidised Reconstruction and Development Programme homes. It does not include the gap market.”

Public sources, including studies by the Centre for Affordable Housing Finance, estimate a gap market deficit of at least 2.2 million housing units, reinforcing the view that the overall shortfall extends beyond those qualifying for RDP housing alone.

Minister Simelane: “We also offer serviced stands—land parcels with infrastructure, including roads, water and electricity ready for construction. This reduces the cost barriers for prospective homeowners who do not qualify for free houses.”

This reflects broader policy shifts. With fiscal constraints limiting traditional subsidy outputs, the Department has increasingly prioritised serviced sites and informal settlement upgrading.

Operation Vulindlela and Structural Reform

Leadership: “There’s a perception that government regulation discourages business activity. How has Operation Vulindlela helped address structural challenges in housing delivery?”

Minister Simelane: “Fiscal discipline has allowed us to innovate. For example, the Department of Correctional Services is contributing funding so we can assist in building homes for employees who are required to close to the prisons they work in.

We are engaged in partnerships with private companies like Sasol to provide employee housing solutions using government subsidies. We are working with the Department of Public Works to repurpose unused state buildings and state land for housing development.”

These collaborative efforts mirror national strategies under Operation Vulindlela, which aims to align multiple agencies around common infrastructure and housing outcomes.

Unlocking Private Sector Investment

Leadership: “What single action would attract large-scale private investment in affordable housing?”

Minister Simelane: “Streamlining administrative processes at municipal level is critical. Delays in planning approvals can deter financiers, who require certainty on timelines. If development cannot start as scheduled, investment may be redirected.”

This challenge is reflected in public commentary on housing market dynamics, where regulatory and transactional barriers are cited as obstacles to private sector engagement, particularly in the gap market.

Thankfully, the expanded mandate of Operation Vulindlela now includes support for local government reform, which is expected to help address these bottlenecks.

Staff Writer

From recovery
to acceleration

Nasiphi Ndevu compares SONA 2025 and
SONA 2026 through three national priorities

 The State of the Nation Address (SONA) remains one of the most significant political events in South Africa. Delivered annually before Parliament, it outlines government’s priorities, reflects on progress made, and sets the tone for the year ahead. More than a ceremonial speech, SONA acts as a policy compass, guiding national debate and signalling the direction of governance, economic planning, and institutional reform.

When comparing SONA 2025 and SONA 2026, a clear evolution becomes visible. The 2025 address largely focused on stabilisation and recovery. It recognised the economic pressures facing the country, the strain on infrastructure, and the urgent need to rebuild public confidence. By contrast, SONA 2026 reflected a more assertive and forward-looking tone. It built on earlier reforms and shifted toward expansion, acceleration, and measurable delivery.

To understand this transition clearly, this article compares the two addresses across three central themes: Economic Growth, Job Creation, and Energy Security. These themes are deeply interconnected. Economic growth requires reliable energy. Job creation depends on expanding industries. Energy security underpins both productivity and investor confidence. Together, they shape the foundation of national development.

Economic Growth in SONA 2025: Rebuilding the Foundation

Economic growth was a dominant theme in SONA 2025, but it was framed within the context of recovery. The economy faced modest growth levels, fiscal pressure, and weakened investor confidence. The speech emphasised stabilising the economic environment before pursuing ambitious expansion.

Infrastructure investment featured strongly, particularly in transport, water systems, and energy. Government stressed the importance of improving regulatory certainty and strengthening partnerships with the private sector. The tone was measured and cautious. The message was that economic repair must precede acceleration. Structural reforms were presented as groundwork necessary to unlock future growth.

Rather than promising rapid transformation, the 2025 address focused on restoring credibility. Economic stability was described as a prerequisite for sustainable development. In essence, the priority was to fix what was not functioning effectively and rebuild trust in the country’s economic direction.

Economic Growth in SONA 2026: Driving Industrial Expansion

By 2026, the economic narrative had shifted noticeably. Growth was no longer framed primarily as recovery but as expansion. The tone reflected greater confidence in the reform process and a stronger commitment to measurable outcomes.

Industrialisation became a central theme. The speech emphasised localisation, export diversification, and expanding domestic manufacturing capacity. Instead of focusing mainly on attracting investors, the emphasis shifted toward strengthening productive sectors within the country. Sector-specific strategies were highlighted, and there was stronger language around performance targets and accountability.

The 2026 address suggested that the stabilisation efforts of the previous year had laid a platform for acceleration. Growth was presented not merely as an aspiration but as a deliberate outcome of coordinated policy action.

The Shift in Economic Strategy

The contrast between the two years is clear. In 2025, government concentrated on repairing the economic engine. In 2026, it focused on pressing the accelerator. The progression reflects a natural policy cycle in which stability creates space for expansion. Recovery efforts in 2025 paved the way for a more ambitious and forward-looking strategy in 2026.

Job Creation in SONA 2025: Providing Immediate Relief

Unemployment remained one of the country’s most pressing challenges in 2025. For many citizens, job creation is not an abstract policy issue but a matter of survival. The 2025 address responded to this urgency by expanding public employment programmes and youth initiatives.

Community-based work schemes and support for Small, Medium and Micro Enterprises (SMMEs) were emphasised as critical tools for employment generation. Government acknowledged that public employment programmes are not permanent solutions, but they were presented as necessary support mechanisms during economic recovery.

The tone balanced compassion with realism. Immediate relief was necessary while broader structural reforms took effect. Youth employment received particular attention, with the understanding that prolonged unemployment among young people poses both economic and social risks.

Job Creation in SONA 2026: Building Sustainable Employment

In 2026, the emphasis shifted toward long-term sustainability. While public employment initiatives remained relevant, the focus moved decisively toward private-sector driven job creation. The speech highlighted the importance of aligning education and training systems with industry needs.

Technical and vocational education gained prominence, alongside skills development in sectors such as digital technology, infrastructure, and renewable energy. Entrepreneurship support and partnerships with industry were emphasised as central to employment growth.

Rather than concentrating primarily on temporary job opportunities, SONA 2026 framed employment as an outcome of industrial expansion and productivity. The objective was not only to increase the number of jobs but to improve their sustainability and contribution to economic growth.

From Access to Sustainability

The evolution between the two years reflects deeper strategic thinking. In 2025, government acted as a buffer against economic hardship through relief-based employment measures. In 2026, the strategy aimed to reduce dependency on state-driven programmes by empowering industries and building a skilled workforce.

The shift from job access to job sustainability demonstrates an integrated approach in which employment is closely linked to industrial policy and economic transformation.

Energy Security in SONA 2025: Responding to Crisis

Energy security shaped much of the economic debate in 2025. Electricity shortages had disrupted businesses and households, affecting productivity and investor confidence. The address treated energy as an urgent national priority requiring immediate action.

Commitments included expanding renewable energy procurement, enabling private power generation, and implementing regulatory reforms. Governance improvements within the energy sector were also emphasised. The tone was corrective and urgent, focusing on stabilising supply and restoring reliability.

Energy reform was presented as a necessary condition for economic survival. Without reliable electricity, growth and job creation would remain constrained.

Energy Security in SONA 2026: Building Resilience and Modernisation

By 2026, the energy conversation had matured. While stabilisation remained important, the focus broadened to long-term system resilience and infrastructure modernisation.

The speech highlighted transmission grid expansion, diversification of the energy mix, and accelerated renewable energy investment. Energy storage and innovation were discussed as part of building a sustainable future.

Energy was no longer framed only as a crisis to manage but as an opportunity to modernise infrastructure and support industrial growth. The shift from emergency response to strategic transformation mirrored the broader progression seen in economic and employment policies.

A Broader Pattern of Transition

Across Economic Growth, Job Creation, and Energy Security, a consistent pattern emerges. SONA 2025 prioritised stabilisation and immediate relief. SONA 2026 prioritised expansion, sustainability, and measurable performance.

The later address integrated these themes more clearly, linking energy reform to industrial growth and connecting skills development to employment outcomes. The tone also shifted from cautious rebuilding to confident acceleration.

From Stabilisation to Momentum

The comparison between SONA 2025 and SONA 2026 reveals a country moving through a deliberate policy transition. The 2025 address focused on restoring balance, rebuilding trust, and stabilising key systems. The 2026 address built upon that foundation and sought to generate forward momentum through industrial expansion, sustainable job creation, and resilient energy infrastructure.

If 2025 was about repairing foundations, 2026 was about constructing the next level. Together, the two addresses reflect an attempt to move beyond crisis management toward structured and strategic development.

Whether these ambitions are fully realised will depend on consistent implementation, accountability, and collaboration across society. However, the progression across these three core themes demonstrates an intentional shift in focus, from recovery to acceleration, from short-term response to long-term transformation.

Governance, Accountability and Implementation

An additional difference between SONA 2025 and SONA 2026 can be seen in the way governance and accountability were framed. In 2025, the emphasis was placed on rebuilding systems, restoring credibility, and strengthening institutional capacity. There was recognition that effective economic reform depends on capable public institutions. The speech stressed improving coordination across departments, enhancing oversight, and rebuilding administrative efficiency. The tone suggested that before ambitious promises could be made, systems of governance needed to function reliably and transparently.

By 2026, the conversation moved beyond institutional repair toward performance and delivery. The language of measurable targets, timelines, and outcomes became more prominent. There was stronger emphasis on monitoring progress and ensuring that reforms translated into visible improvements. Implementation was no longer presented as a technical process but as a political priority. This signalled a shift from policy intention to policy execution.

Public Confidence and National Momentum

Another important development between the two addresses was the tone of public confidence. SONA 2025 sought to reassure citizens during a period of uncertainty. It acknowledged hardship while offering a structured plan for recovery. The underlying message was one of resilience—that the country had faced challenges before and could overcome them again through discipline and partnership.

In contrast, SONA 2026 projected momentum. It assumed that recovery efforts were beginning to yield results and encouraged the country to think in terms of expansion and opportunity. The tone was more forward-looking, focusing on potential rather than constraint. This shift in tone plays an important role in shaping public perception. Confidence, after all, influences investment decisions, consumer spending, and social stability.

Together, these additional dimensions reinforce the broader conclusion of this comparison. The movement from stabilisation in 2025 to acceleration in 2026 reflects not only policy adjustments but also a deliberate attempt to change national mood—from cautious recovery to determined progress.

Nasiphi Ndevu is the head of research for Sgwilil Media Group.

All Africans are villagers: leadership, identity, and the power of roots

Leadership is delighted to publish an excerpt from Thebe Ikalafeng’s book, Rooted and Rising: Reclaiming Our Culture and Redefining Our Global Influence

I never thought of myself as a villager. I had never even thought of my home city, Kimberley, in those terms. It was, after all, a city of many firsts: the first city in the Southern Hemisphere to have electric street lighting in 1882—before London; the first stock exchange in South Africa; the first to adopt an automatic telephone exchange; the country’s first flying school in 1913; and the epicentre of the diamond rush that produced the Cullinan I, the 530.2-carat Star of Africa that still sits in the British royal family’s sceptre.

The only time I ever saw a cow or sheep roaming the streets was when it was on a leash, each leg held by a local man as the animal was rushed to meet its Maker, while pots were readied for mosebetsi—the Setswana word we use for any major communal gathering, whether a funeral or a wedding.

How could that be a village?

And yet, after reading Nigerian writer Feyi Olubodun’s book, ‘The Villager: How Africans Consume Brands’, I realised that I am, without question, a villager.

All Africans are villagers.

Feyi’s argument is simple but profound: at our core, Africans—even those who are urbanised, educated and globally exposed—remain deeply shaped by community, tradition, and collective identity. Decisions are rarely made in isolation. They are influenced by family, faith, memory and shared experience. That insight explains far more than how we consume brands. It helps explain our unease with ideas that place the individual too squarely at the centre —including the notion of “personal branding”.

That discomfort is not accidental. It is cultural.

In a special issue on personal branding, the editors of Harvard Business Review observed that the concept is often viewed as “smacking of superficial appearances and tasteless self-promotion”. In an African context, that resistance runs even deeper. We were taught to be humble, to let our work speak, to respect elders and hierarchy, and to remember that we exist because others do.

Anything but African.

More than a decade ago, after writing my first book on personal branding, I asked a respected older head-hunter friend to endorse it. He declined. He told me he did not believe in personal branding because it amounted to self-promotion. I was disappointed, but I understood. He came from a generation that believed you worked hard, kept your head down, and waited your turn—if recognition came at all.

His response affirmed my own earlier hesitation. Years before, when I wrote ‘Conquer the Job Market’ in 1996, I deliberately avoided the term “personal branding”, even though the book was essentially about standing out in a crowded marketplace. At the time, I framed it as personal marketing. I knew then—as I know now—that language matters, especially when culture is involved.

But the world has changed.

The American management thinker Tom Peters captured this shift when he wrote that in the age of the individual, “you have to be your own brand—distinct or extinct”. His point was not about ego, but agency. In a hyper-competitive world, professional success often depends on whether others understand the value you bring.

That reality sits uneasily with African sensibilities. But it cannot be ignored.

This tension—between who we are and what the modern world demands of us—sits at the heart of African leadership today.

The scholar W.E.B. Du Bois described it as “double consciousness”: the experience of living with two identities, two value systems, two ways of seeing oneself. While Du Bois was writing about African Americans navigating a racially stratified society, the idea resonates powerfully with Africans operating in Western-designed institutions.

To compete and lead globally, many Africans find themselves constantly negotiating between inherited cultures and imposed systems. As Ngugi wa Thiong’o once observed, we often end up seeing ourselves through European eyes, relinquishing the responsibility to define ourselves on our own terms.

Yet African thinkers have long insisted that this need not be a zero-sum choice. The Malian historian and ethnologist Amadou Hampâté Bâ devoted his life’s work to showing that Africa’s oral wisdom and traditional values could coexist with modernity—and enrich it.

This negotiation becomes visible in the everyday rituals of leadership: how we dress, how we speak, how we introduce ourselves. Dress codes that read “black tie or traditional” are not trivial; they are entry points into identity. A South African friend once joked to me, “Traditional just means I must wear my Nelson Mandela shirt.”

My own journeys across Africa and beyond have given me the confidence to move comfortably between these worlds—to wear a tailored Western suit one day and traditional imvunulo at the Umhlanga Reed Dance the next, without feeling any conflict in who I am.

One person who embodies this ease is Dr Sipho Sithole—a scholar, executive, cultural entrepreneur, and custodian of tradition, now based in the United States. Whether moving through boardrooms, launching Afro-soul artists, teaching African languages abroad or wearing his signature umqhele, Sipho shows that leadership does not require cultural erasure. It requires cultural fluency.

Ours is an era that increasingly centres the individual.

When Time magazine named “You” as its Person of the Year in 2006, it captured a defining shift. Ordinary people were no longer just participants in institutions; they were becoming creators, curators and narrators of their own stories. That shift has only accelerated. Today, whether you aspire to lead a village, a corporation or a country, visibility is no longer optional.

Gone are the days when one could wear a uniform for decades, retire quietly with a watch and a bicycle, and disappear into the background. Leadership today requires standing out—not for spectacle, but for substance.

Across Africa and its diaspora, those who have left lasting impressions are remembered not for conformity, but for clarity. From Mansa Musa to Nelson Mandela, from Fela Kuti to Wangari Maathai, from Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie to Trevor Noah, they are known because they stood for something—often against prevailing norms.

But standing out does not have to mean standing alone. In Africa, it often means lifting your village with you.

In our cultures, the most enduring symbol of leadership is not the spotlight, but the tree.

A tree represents life, continuity and growth. Elders gather beneath it to deliberate. Communities find shade under it. In many African languages, the word for shade—serithi, isithunzi, umthunzi—also means dignity. When a great person dies, we say a big tree has fallen.

In Galeshewe, the township where I grew up, a large lemon tree in my grandparents’ yard played that role. It was where my grandmother washed clothes, cooled watermelons in the heat, and told stories that quietly shaped our sense of the world. That tree offered more than fruit. It offered presence.

Leadership, in this sense, is not about casting a shadow over others, but offering shade. It is about roots that run deep enough to withstand the wind.

Rooted and Rising reframes reputation, influence, and leadership through this African lens. It moves beyond Western ideas of personal branding as self-promotion and centres instead on self-affirmation, cultural alignment, and communal responsibility.

At a time when Africa’s population is young, growing, and searching for opportunity, the competition for visibility and voice is intense. The question is not whether Africans should stand out, but how—without losing ourselves in the process.

This is an invitation to lead from who we are, not who we are told to be. To acknowledge the double consciousness we navigate, while grounding ourselves in the wisdom that has sustained us for generations.

There has never been a more urgent time to reclaim our stories, our symbols and our sense of self. There has never been a better moment to return home—to Africa—rooted, rising, and unapologetically ourselves.

Shall we?

Thebe Ikalafeng is the author of ‘Rooted and Rising: Reclaiming Our Culture and Redefining Our Global Influence’.

HIV made him expect to die at 40. At 73, Edwin Cameron asks: who’s planning for our ageing survivors?

At 33, retired Constitutional Court justice Edwin Cameron thought he had, maybe, seven years left. His story traces the arc from certain death from Aids to a chronic, manageable condition at 73–and asks what happens when the generation who fought for life finally get to grow old.

It was in the spring of 1997 and Edwin Cameron looked at himself in the bathroom mirror and stuck out his tongue. He was terrified at what looked back at him.

His mouth was dotted in flecks of white; a fungus, the sort of spores that belong on dead bodies, he thought. Breathing was becoming difficult. He was having trouble swallowing, lost his appetite, and dropped 15 kilograms. He was beginning to look emaciated, and people were noticing. Just the other day, a colleague in a crowded lift commented on his weight loss.

Even before the x-rays came back from the radiologist in October, he knew he had pneumocystis pneumonia, or PCP, a form of pneumonia which is caused by a fungus that infects the lungs. Unless it was treated with a heavy course of strong medication, it would kill him. He knew what that meant, just like he knew what he was looking at on his tongue was oral thrush. Both were common diseases that ravaged people with extremely weak immune systems.

The judge could no longer ignore what was happening: HIV, a secret his body harboured for 12 years, had finally turned to full-blown Aids.

The medicines that could save his life cost R4 500 a month, about one-third of the salary he collected as a high court judge in Johannesburg. He would pay cash; back then, these were not the sorts of drugs freely available in public clinics, and medical aids did not cover them. By then, treatment was a combination of antiretroviral drugs (ARVs), which had recently started successfully treating patients in the United States (US). But the cost of the medicine put treatment completely out of reach for all but a few Africans—a searing injustice that put a steep price on life that never escaped Cameron, and would drive much of his life’s work.

It would be seven more years of court battles, of a government paralysed with HIV denialism, of relentless activism, demonstrations, screeching demands for drug companies to lower costs, and millions of people lost to HIV before the drugs were made free in government clinics.

But on 7 November 1997, at his home in Brixton, the judge would swallow his privilege. By his side was researcher Morna Cornell and activists Mark Heywood and Zackie Achmat (all of whom would lead HIV work) as he ingested the first of what would be tens of thousands of pills over the next 28 years.

That December, Cameron walked up Table Mountain. It was nothing short of a miracle.

Darkest days

If you had told him then that he’d be sitting in his home in Sandton, at 73, six years after stepping down from the Constitutional Court, where he served for 11 years, recounting those terrifying times on a bright summer’s day as a marquee was being set up in the garden to celebrate a friend’s birthday, there is no way he would have believed you.

“I was 33 when I was told [I had HIV] and 32 when I was infected,” he recalled in an interview with Bhekisisa’s TV programme, Health Beat. “Undoubtedly, I would not ever be 40. I would never see a democratic, free South Africa. I would never become a judge; despite my terrible criticism of the apartheid judiciary, which got me into trouble at the time, I hoped to do in a democratic South Africa.”

Cameron talked about the darkest days of the disease, which was then called Grid, or gay-related immune deficiency, as it ripped through gay communities across the US in the Eighties before baring its teeth on the world. Today in South Africa, four out of every 10 new infections are girls and women between the ages of 15 and 24, even though they make up only about 8% of the total population.

“I can pretty assuredly say that I was infected with HIV 40 years ago at Easter, 1985. I was told by my doctor about 20 months later. Gay men like myself in their early 30s, with their lives and their hopes and dreams before them, were dying in their tens of thousands on the West and East Coasts of America, in the Midwest, Western Europe, Australia, and there was nothing anyone could do about it.

“They could give palliative treatments and maybe antibiotics for some of the secondary diseases, the symptomatic presentations of the collapse of your immune system. But there was nothing that could be done, so you faced a certain death.”

The first generation

Cameron was one of the first South Africans to take what were new, lifesaving drugs, and is proof of their ability to sustain a long life. It is through those like him, who had access to the drugs early on, that medical science is now able to not just keep people with HIV alive but also witness the effects on people who are now growing old with it.

Just by living longer, we become more susceptible to developing noncommunicable diseases (NCDs) like diabetes, heart conditions, and cancer. But studies have shown that people living with HIV are four times as likely to get NCDs as they age faster—during the period that they’re not on treatment—than those without it. And they are often hit with multiple NCDs at the same time.

Cameron is strict about adhering to his ARVs and is careful about what he eats (he is a vegetarian, “full of protein for those vegetarian sceptics,” he says), exercises regularly and is an avid cyclist. Yet you can see his reflection in those findings.

“I lead a healthy lifestyle, and yet I had blockages in my cardiac arteries. I got three stents [small tubes which help keep blood flowing in blocked vessels] in 2017. I’ve got high blood pressure, all of it controlled. And then this year, I had atrial fibrillation, which means that your heart starts beating irregularly. I’m enormously grateful that I have access to the quality of medical care that is keeping me healthy. But, all of that to say, I have a sense of vulnerability.”

Studies have found that the sooner someone starts treatment, the better. The inflammation from HIV causes those with the virus to age faster, and ARVs help reduce that inflammation. But that means the longer you wait to take them, the faster your body ages.

Cameron lived with HIV for 12 years before he could start treatment. At the time, ARVs were prescribed based on how low a person with HIV’s CD4 count was, a measurement of the white blood cells that help your immune system fight infections. Over the years, as scientists learned more about the virus, it became clear that the faster someone is put on treatment after infection, the better. Since 2017, ARVs in South Africa have been given as soon as someone tests positive to keep their viral load (how much HIV is in their blood) low enough so the virus cannot be transmitted.

He still looks back to that day in November, 28 years ago, when he cradled his first dose in his hands.

“I feel a very profound and quite humble sense of deep gratitude for living, and for the medical science that brought ARVs and, most importantly, for the activism that insisted that these drugs be developed. Without the angry rage of queer men like myself in North America, and without the activism of Zackie in starting the Treatment Action Campaign in December 1998, we would not be able to say that in South Africa, more than six million people like myself are now on ARVs and owe their lives and wellness and healthiness to ARVs.”

A blot a scar a stain

HIV has shaped Cameron’s career as well as his life. Before Nelson Mandela appointed him as a judge to the high court in 1994, he was a human rights lawyer at the Centre for Applied Legal Studies (Cals) at Wits University, where he founded the Aids Law Project (which would become SECTION27), co-founded the Aids Consortium and helped draft the Charter of Rights on Aids and HIV.

“Being gay, living with a radical virus, which could flare up again if I didn’t have my meds, it shapes your life. It becomes part of your self-conception,” he says.

Part of his identity, though, came with the stigma attached to it.

“Worse than the loss of a vision of your life ahead was the internal shame I felt. That’s why I speak about internalised stigma—because I blamed myself. I believed that, you know, I shouldn’t have had so much sex, or sex with x or y or z. So there’s a level of self-blame that is terribly debilitating.”

It was his work at Cals that helped him to partly come to terms with that. There, while working with the National Union of Mineworkers on Aids/HIV legal codes as the epidemic was exploding in South Africa, he began meeting others with HIV. People who weren’t gay, white men like him.

“They were black, they were women, they were married to opposite sex partners who were mine workers who were away for substantial periods of the year. Some of them told me that they’d never had sex with anyone apart from their husbands. Yet they felt the same shame that I did.

“I’m not comparing our situations because I was enormously privileged. I was an advocate with a salary and a home, but that made me see things differently. It made me see that it was not about queerness or gayness or having gay sex or having too much sex.”

Stigma was one of the reasons he waited as long as he did to speak out about his HIV, which he announced in 1999, when he was up for consideration for the Constitutional Court.

Lines in his 2005 book Witness to Aids speak painfully to some of that fear: ‘Aids is stigma disgrace discrimination hatred hardship abandonment isolation exclusion prohibition persecution poverty privation. Aids is metaphor. It is a threat a tragedy a blight a blot a scar a stain a plague a scourge a pestilence a demon killer rampant rampaging murderer. It is made moral. It is condemnation deterrence retribution punishment, a sin a lesson a curse rebuke judgement. It is a disease.’

His coming out followed two pivotal deaths: Simon Nkoli, the openly gay anti-apartheid and gay rights activist, who died of Aids at 41; and, soon after, HIV activist Gugu Dlamini, a 36-year-old who died, not of Aids, but was attacked and killed three weeks after publicly announcing she had HIV.

“The deaths of those two people, both of whom spoke about their own HIV, made it impossible for me to keep on remaining silent. But, of course, by the time I spoke out, I was healthy and well. It was a couple of years after I started ARVs, so I was able to say, I’m living. I’m here because of ARVs. I’ve survived death, an inevitable and certain death.”

Cameron knows first hand how difficult it is to come out and say you have HIV. Still, he cannot conceal his disappointment in some of South Africa’s “silent people”, the public figures who have not declared their status, “our elite, our politicians, our soccer players, our entertainers, our public figures, our professors at university”.

“Should someone speak out about having survived breast cancer, cervical cancer, liver cancer? I would never say you should speak out about having had any life-threatening disease, but it would be enormously helpful and normalising in what is in our country a normal disease. Because when 13% of people are living with a potentially life-threatening disease, it’s normal.”

And it is what, he says, would help get us past the stigma that keeps people away from clinics, from being tested, from taking the medicines that can save their lives. From keeping that past scourge of certain death at bay.

Witness to Aids

His memories of Saturdays at Soweto’s Avalon Cemetery, where the earth surrendered to receive the scores of bodies lost to Aids, are very much alive in him. It is palpable in his writings in Witness to Aids.

Aids is mouth and tongue and scar and nerve and eye and brain and skin and tum and gut. Aids is smell and feel—of sweat and grime and snot and breath and bowel and secretion, discharge, pus, putrescence, disintegration, excrement, waste. Human waste. Aids is feeling—painful sharp tingling burning heavy dull weakening wasting enervating diminishing destroying bereaving. Aids is fear. It is breathless and nameless.

The prospect of having those days return because of US funding cuts frightens him.

“It is not an overstated word to say carnage. We might be able to afford the actual medications, but what we are losing is the research, the recruitment—where you send people into Hillbrow to talk to the sex workers, to talk to the young people, to say to them, are you aware of the risk of HIV? Do you know someone who’s got HIV? Send them to the clinic. We will put them on ARVs. All of that we’re losing. And it is catastrophic.”

The ingrained sense of responsibility for the South African project is one reason why Cameron continues his work. Since stepping down from the Constitutional Court in 2019, he’s been an inspecting judge of prisons and served as chancellor of Stellenbosch University until December 2025. He continues to lecture and hold seminars and talk to journalists like us. It’s part of his own constitution.

“[Having HIV has] made me deeply conscious—in a life and death sense—of how important social activism and civic action are. Our institutions of government and our instruments of government are important, but they have to be shaped and pressured and demanded upon by civil society action.

“That’s one of the beneficial legacies of apartheid—not that they were because of apartheid—but the response to apartheid from civil society was to create educational organisations, resistance organisations, secret organisations, organisations in alliance with the exiled liberation movement, organisations for drama and art. That legacy lives on into our democracy, with a vibrant, independent civil society and NGO sector.”

As we spoke in his living room, his cat wandering in and out, Cameron, in a dress shirt and slacks, spoke from his armchair in his socks—a man clearly comfortable yet understated in his outsized achievements. It’s a reminder of his groundedness, that he does not take himself so seriously, even if what he has done in his life, what he represents, is serious indeed.

In 2019, he told a story to South Africa’s LGBTQI publication MambaOnline that’s worth repeating here.

The journalist asked him what it was like to be an icon. His response sums up that side of Cameron quite well: “A few years ago, my friend said, ‘First you were Mr, then you were advocate, then you were professor, then you were judge, now you are justice. I’m just going to call you madam!’

“I think the nice thing about LGBTQI life is that we’ve perfected the art of self-irony or spoofing ourselves and I’m never very far from spoofing myself. So when you ask me that question, I immediately roll my eyes... iconic! So it’s very good that we don’t get too serious about ourselves. The struggle is serious — but not ourselves.”

This story is based on an interview with Mia Malan, which was broadcast on Bhekisisa’s monthly television programme Health Beat in January. Additional support by the Health Beat team: Anna-Maria van Niekerk, Jessica Pitchford, Justin Barlow, Tim Wege and Jeannine Snyman.

Tanya Pampalone and Mia Malan are journalists for the Bhekisisa Centre for Health Journalism.

Superbugs + climate change = double trouble. Here’s why.

Superbugs are a big public health issue. So is climate change. Put the two together and the problem becomes even bigger, writes Ida Jooste.

 What once was a medical miracle has now become a nightmare At a Bhekisisa webinar, scientists discussed how changing climate conditions are helping the spread of germs, called bacteria, that antibiotics—which one of the experts at the online event called “the eureka of medicine”—can no longer kill.

They’re called superbugs, because they’re near impossible to kill with the medicines we’ve relied on for decades.

It’s a big problem. A study published in The Lancet found that in 2019, such drug-resistant infections killed 1.27 million people worldwide. In roughly the same period, global HIV-related deaths were estimated at around 718 000 a year. In other words, infections caused by bacterial superbugs led to nearly twice as many deaths around the world as HIV.

These germs are all around us, said Luther King Abia, an environmental microbiologist at the University of KwaZulu-Natal, during the webinar. They can cause untreatable or very difficult-to-treat throat, ear, chest (for instance, pneumonia and TB), and skin infections, as well as meningitis and cholera, and sexually transmitted infections such as gonorrhoea, syphilis, and chlamydia, amongst other diseases.

And climate change is making the problem worse.

Why?

Because changing weather patterns and more frequent and severe flooding as a result of it, can make superbugs spread faster and further. We answer 11 questions, to make it easy to understand why.

What are superbugs?

The term “superbugs” is often used to talk about germs like bacteria, viruses or fungi that can withstand drugs designed to kill or stop them from growing. They cause infections that are almost impossible to cure with the medicine we have available. “These germs have become super powerful, because nothing can kill them,” says King.

Where do superbugs come from?

Like all living things, disease-causing bacteria try to protect themselves or fight back against threats—such as antimicrobial drugs. (Bacteria and other germs are called microbes because they are so small that they can only be seen with a microscope or other imaging equipment; antimicrobial means something that works against microbes.)

Over time, some bacteria have changed in ways that let them outsmart the medicines designed to kill them. So, instead of dying out, they multiply. When this happens antimicrobial resistance (AMR) is said to have developed—which gives rise to superbugs.

What causes antimicrobial resistance?

AMR is mostly because of the overuse of antibiotics, a group of antimicrobial drugs used to treat bacterial infections. These medicines became widely used in the mid-1940s when scientists figured out how to make lots of an antibiotic called penicillin in labs. The discovery changed modern medicine, as this antibiotic could kill many types of bacteria that used to cause deadly infections.

The more we use antibiotics, the more chances we give bacteria to find ways to outsmart the medicine.

Bacteria replicate by dividing in two, which means every time a bacterial cell divides, their number doubles. Because their life cycle is so fast, this doubling effect quickly leads to huge numbers of germs developing. If even just a few are able to withstand the antibiotic’s effect and so survive until the next replication cycle, the number of resistant ones can increase very fast.

The more a certain type of germ gets peppered with a specific antibiotic, the bigger the pool of those that aren’t affected by the drugs become, until, eventually, each new copy of that type of germ is able to withstand the medicine.

What does the data say about superbug infections?

“Antimicrobial resistance... is without question one of the most pressing health challenges of our time,” Tedros Ghebreyesus, the World Health Organisation (WHO) director general, told world leaders in 2024.

Data from the WHO’s latest AMR report, published in October, together with a useful fact sheet, shows that nearly one in six bacterial infections worldwide is now resistant to commonly used antibiotics. In Africa, it’s one in five.

It’s a growing problem, and several common bacteria are showing resistance to widely used antibiotics, especially in poorer parts of the world. In fact, “by 2050, drug-resistant infections could have killed 39.1 million people [since 2025]—that’s about eight jumbo jets crashing every single day for 25 years,” explained King. The figure refers to deaths where drug-resistant infections become untreatable or turn routine care into a serious risk, according to a 2021 study published in The Lancet.

Those bacteria that are fast becoming resistant include Escherichia coli, a germ that often causes urinary infections, Klebsiella pneumoniae, a germ that can cause serious pneumonia and infections in newborns and hospital patients, and Acinetobacter baumannii, a type of microbe often found in hospitals, infecting the lungs and making wounds difficult to heal.

Poorer countries are often hard hit by superbug infections. But a report from the WHO and UN Environment Programme shows that many of these countries don’t have lab facilities to test what type of germs causes an infection. Without such tests, doctors often have to guess which type of antibiotic will work. If the guess is wrong, the treatment won’t kill the infection and the WHO warns that any resistant germs already present can then keep multiplying. Too few equipped labs therefore make it easier for drug-resistant infections to spread.

Why does climate change make superbugs spread?

Changes in the normal weather patterns and more frequent floods, heavy storms, heatwaves or droughts are signs of climate change. The fallout of these changes can weaken sanitation systems—whether because of infrastructure being damaged or clean, running water being scarce—which can cause infections to spread easily.

Floods and storms can carry germs from one area to another, making the infections that follow harder to stop.

Some disease-causing microbes in a certain area may already be resistant to medicine, and can spread to more people and places when floods or heavy rain carry dirty water, sewage, and mud further and faster than usual. For instance, a study that looked at antibiotic resistance before and after floods found that floodwaters can carry many, many superbugs into rivers, soils and coastal waters, making it more likely that people come into contact with them.

Droughts too can help germs, including superbugs, spread. When water supplies run low, people struggle to wash their hands or flush toilets properly, which makes it easier for germs to move between people. Because climate change is causing longer periods of drought, these conditions are likely to become more common, increasing the risk that superbugs spread in communities.

How does hotter weather affect superbugs?

Heat helps bacteria grow and adapt faster. For example, a 2025 study found that when soil warms (because of hotter days), bacteria can switch on more genes that can help them withstand drugs. In this way, higher temperatures can help superbugs survive and multiply. Indeed, an analysis published last year showed that hotter weather and heatwaves are linked to more drug-resistant infections around the world.

How do superbugs affect people’s lives?

Drug-resistant germs make common illnesses or injuries—like urinary tract infections, pneumonia, wounds and blood infections—more dangerous. When antibiotics that used to be effective don’t work anymore, infections last longer, are harder to control, and have more time to spread—and doctors have fewer safe treatment options.

This is also bad news for everyday medical procedures like childbirth, surgery and cancer treatment, when antibiotics are important to help stop infections when the body’s immune system is weak. Without effective antibiotics, problems that were once easy to treat can quickly become serious.

According to the South African health department’s latest strategy framework for AMR, patients with superbug infections often have to stay in hospital longer and they have more complications. This is a serious warning, says King. If this trend continues, more people will die from infections doctors can’t treat, hospitals won’t cope and treatment will become more expensive for both public and private patients.

Who is most likely to get very sick from superbug infections?

AMR hits hardest among babies and older people, because their immune systems are weaker. A global analysis, which looked at drug-resistant infections between 1990 and 2021, found that deaths caused by superbugs among people aged 70 and over almost doubled in this time.

Superbug infections also hit the poor hard—even in a wealthy country like America, where a study in Texas found that people living in poorer neighbourhoods were far more likely to have superbug infections than those in wealthier areas. This, the researchers said, suggests that crowding, poor sanitation and less access to healthcare create conditions that make it easier for superbugs to spread. An analysis of studies from many parts of sub-Saharan Africa shows that in poorer communities—where water, toilets and healthcare are limited—drug-resistant infections are common.

Is antimicrobial resistance already a problem in South Africa?

Yes. The clearest example of AMR in South Africa is drug-resistant tuberculosis (TB). When TB no longer responds to the main medicines used to treat it, it’s called multidrug-resistant TB, or MDR-TB. If the bacteria become resistant to even more drugs, including the backup ones, it’s called extensively drug-resistant TB (XDR-TB).

The WHO says many people with drug-resistant TB still aren’t getting the right treatment, and South Africa is one of the 10 countries where this gap is largest. TB treatment is hard enough, and even though some new medicines are easier to take, the stronger drugs used for resistant TB are still much tougher on patients. Treating can take years, the medicines can be toxic, and the side effects are often severe. TB shows, in the most human way, what antimicrobial resistance looks like when it hits home.

What about making new types of antibiotics to stay ahead of the germs?

It’s not that simple. Developing a new antibiotic is slow, expensive and often not profitable for drug companies. Doing this can take more than a decade and cost more than $1 billion—that’s around R16.5 billion over ten years—and even then, bacteria often start finding ways around new medicines within a few years.

Different antibiotics work by attacking different “weak spots” in bacteria, for example, breaking down their cell walls or blocking how they make proteins. But bacteria don’t have endless weak spots, and existing antibiotics already target many of them. So, when new antibiotics come out, they’re often just small variations on older drugs, not truly new weapons. That means bacteria can adapt to them more quickly, especially if the drugs are overused.

We also need to protect the drugs we already have by using them wisely, preventing infections in the first place, and tracking how resistance spreads.

What does the “One Health” idea mean?

Humans, animals and the environment are connected, and germs move freely between them. So when resistance builds in one corner, it doesn’t stay there.

How it works in real life is that people get infections from water, food, soil, animals and other people. Animals also get infections and are often treated with antibiotics. The waste from both people and animals flows into the environment—especially into water systems—where bacteria mix, survive and sometimes become resistant. Those resistant bacteria can then move back into people through drinking water, crops, or direct contact.

Climate change makes these links stronger. An analysis of data from 2000 to 2023 shows that higher temperatures and extreme heat tend to make drug resistance worse. Rainfall also affects resistance, but in different ways depending on the germ.

This shows why AMR plans need to take climate into account.

Hotter weather helps bacteria grow faster. Heavy rains and floods wash waste from farms, households and clinics into rivers and dams, and can spread resistant germs over wide areas. Drought forces people and animals to share limited water sources. As weather patterns change, diseases move into new regions, taking resistance with them.

This is why we can’t fight AMR by focusing on hospitals alone. Slowing resistance also depends on safe water and sanitation, good farming practices, careful antibiotic use in people and animals, and planning for climate pressures. These systems are connected, so the solutions have to be connected too.

This story was produced by the Bhekisisa Centre for Health Journalism.

Ida Jooste is a journalist for the Bhekisisa Centre for Health Journalism.

Africa’s energy paradox: cheap technology, costly finance

Two identical solar plants: one in Spain, one in Kenya. Same panels, similar sun, similar engineering. Yet one produces cheap electricity while the other struggles to deliver affordable power.

 The difference is not technology, labour, or resource endowment. It is the cost of capital. Across Sub-Saharan Africa (SSA), electrification and power-sector decarbonisation are often framed as technology or resource challenges.

In reality, they are finance-architecture challenges. Solar and wind costs have fallen dramatically worldwide, but the cost of money required to build, connect, and operate electricity systems in SSA remains persistently high. This financing premium affects not only renewable generation projects, but more importantly the grids, distribution networks, and utilities that determine whether electricity becomes affordable, reliable, and widely accessible.

This distinction matters. In SSA, the cost of capital problem is not primarily a renewables problem- it is an electricity system problem.

The common misunderstanding: “renewables are capital-intensive”

A widely accepted narrative is that renewables are especially sensitive to financing costs because they are capital-intensive and fuel-free. This is true in principle. However, focusing only on generation economics misses the central issue in SSA.

The International Energy Agency (IEA) has repeatedly highlighted that Africa receives a disproportionately small share of global energy investment relative to its population and needs, and that financing costs are a critical barrier to scaling clean energy. But the obstacle is not simply the financing of solar or wind farms- it is the financing of entire electricity systems that struggle with weak balance sheets, currency risk, and under-investment in networks.

As a result, even where renewable generation is technically and economically attractive, electricity remains expensive and unreliable for end users.

Cheap renewable technology does not mean cheap electricity

Generation costs (LCOE) are only one component of delivered electricity prices. In many SSA countries, the dominant cost drivers are high transmission and distribution losses, weak revenue collection, under-investment in grid infrastructure, currency risk embedded in power purchase agreements, and sovereign and offtaker risk priced into tariffs.

World Bank analysis shows that many African utilities do not recover their operating and capital costs, with significant losses stemming from poor collection rates and technical inefficiencies. A subsequent study confirms that both revenue-side problems and cost-side inefficiencies drive poor utility financial performance across the region.

These weaknesses translate directly into higher perceived risk for investors. Developers price this risk into required returns. Lenders shorten tenors or increase margins. The result: even low-cost renewable generation does not translate into low-cost electricity for consumers.

This is the core paradox: SSA can have cheap renewable energy sources and expensive electricity at the same time.

Why this is an electrification problem

Electrification is fundamentally a distribution and network investment challenge. It requires expanding and reinforcing grids, financing transformers, substations, and meters, funding connections for new customers, and maintaining reliable supply. All of this requires long-tenor, low-cost capital. Yet the institutions responsible for these investments- distribution companies and utilities- are often financially fragile.

High financing costs therefore constrain electrification directly. Utilities cannot borrow cheaply to expand networks. Governments face fiscal limits in providing guarantees. Mini-grids and off-grid systems can help but often require high tariffs unless concessional finance reduces their cost of capital.

This dynamic also creates investment bias. Developers prefer commercial and industrial customers (mines, telecom towers, data centres) with hard-currency revenues and strong payment discipline. Capital flows toward self-supply solutions and away from mass electrification.

Why this is also a decarbonisation problem

Many SSA systems rely heavily on diesel and heavy fuel oil generation. In principle, these could be displaced by solar, wind, storage, and grid upgrades at lower system cost and lower emissions.

In practice, these projects require long-term finance backed by credible offtakers. When utilities are weak and currency risk is high, investors demand high returns or avoid projects altogether. Governments must then provide guarantees that strain already limited fiscal space.

The region remains locked into expensive, carbon-intensive thermal generation-not because renewables are costly, but because financing clean alternatives is risky.

What sits inside the SSA “risk premium”?

Financing costs for renewable power projects vary widely across countries. IRENA documents substantial differences in weighted average cost of capital across markets, with many African countries facing significantly higher financing costs than OECD markets.

Several factors drive this premium: offtaker risk (utilities with poor cost recovery and weak balance sheets), currency risk (local-currency revenues versus hard-currency costs), sovereign risk (debt stress limiting government guarantees), shallow capital markets (limited long-tenor local-currency finance), and policy and contract risk (concerns about enforcement and predictability).

Climate Policy Initiative highlights currency mismatch as a particularly important constraint, arguing that FX risk management is central to unlocking private capital for climate investment in EMDEs.

The real policy debate

Three broad schools of thought have emerged:

The IEA argues that reducing cost of capital in EMDEs could unlock very large investment gains and significantly lower the cost of clean energy deployment. But in SSA, the effectiveness of these tools depends critically on addressing utility fundamentals and currency risk alongside project-level de-risking.

The key insight for policymakers and industry

Sub-Saharan Africa does not primarily face a renewables financing problem. It faces an electricity system financing problem. Until the cost of capital for grids, utilities, and local-currency infrastructure falls, electrification and decarbonisation will both remain slower and more expensive than they should be-regardless of how cheap solar panels or wind turbines become.

Tariff reform, utility governance, FX risk solutions, and credible contracting frameworks are not just sector reforms. They are climate policy and electrification policy at the same time.

The bridge between electrification and decarbonisation in SSA is the cost of capital.

Dr. Rahmat Poudineh, Head of the Electricity Research Programme, Oxford Institute for Energy Studies (OIES)

Africa’s energy paradox: cheap technology, costly finance

Two identical solar plants: one in Spain, one in Kenya. Same panels, similar sun, similar engineering. Yet one produces cheap electricity while the other struggles to deliver affordable power.

 The difference is not technology, labour, or resource endowment. It is the cost of capital. Across Sub-Saharan Africa (SSA), electrification and power-sector decarbonisation are often framed as technology or resource challenges.

In reality, they are finance-architecture challenges. Solar and wind costs have fallen dramatically worldwide, but the cost of money required to build, connect, and operate electricity systems in SSA remains persistently high. This financing premium affects not only renewable generation projects, but more importantly the grids, distribution networks, and utilities that determine whether electricity becomes affordable, reliable, and widely accessible.

This distinction matters. In SSA, the cost of capital problem is not primarily a renewables problem- it is an electricity system problem.

The common misunderstanding: “renewables are capital-intensive”

A widely accepted narrative is that renewables are especially sensitive to financing costs because they are capital-intensive and fuel-free. This is true in principle. However, focusing only on generation economics misses the central issue in SSA.

The International Energy Agency (IEA) has repeatedly highlighted that Africa receives a disproportionately small share of global energy investment relative to its population and needs, and that financing costs are a critical barrier to scaling clean energy. But the obstacle is not simply the financing of solar or wind farms- it is the financing of entire electricity systems that struggle with weak balance sheets, currency risk, and under-investment in networks.

As a result, even where renewable generation is technically and economically attractive, electricity remains expensive and unreliable for end users.

Cheap renewable technology does not mean cheap electricity

Generation costs (LCOE) are only one component of delivered electricity prices. In many SSA countries, the dominant cost drivers are high transmission and distribution losses, weak revenue collection, under-investment in grid infrastructure, currency risk embedded in power purchase agreements, and sovereign and offtaker risk priced into tariffs.

World Bank analysis shows that many African utilities do not recover their operating and capital costs, with significant losses stemming from poor collection rates and technical inefficiencies. A subsequent study confirms that both revenue-side problems and cost-side inefficiencies drive poor utility financial performance across the region.

These weaknesses translate directly into higher perceived risk for investors. Developers price this risk into required returns. Lenders shorten tenors or increase margins. The result: even low-cost renewable generation does not translate into low-cost electricity for consumers.

This is the core paradox: SSA can have cheap renewable energy sources and expensive electricity at the same time.

Why this is an electrification problem

Electrification is fundamentally a distribution and network investment challenge. It requires expanding and reinforcing grids, financing transformers, substations, and meters, funding connections for new customers, and maintaining reliable supply. All of this requires long-tenor, low-cost capital. Yet the institutions responsible for these investments- distribution companies and utilities- are often financially fragile.

High financing costs therefore constrain electrification directly. Utilities cannot borrow cheaply to expand networks. Governments face fiscal limits in providing guarantees. Mini-grids and off-grid systems can help but often require high tariffs unless concessional finance reduces their cost of capital.

This dynamic also creates investment bias. Developers prefer commercial and industrial customers (mines, telecom towers, data centres) with hard-currency revenues and strong payment discipline. Capital flows toward self-supply solutions and away from mass electrification.

Why this is also a decarbonisation problem

Many SSA systems rely heavily on diesel and heavy fuel oil generation. In principle, these could be displaced by solar, wind, storage, and grid upgrades at lower system cost and lower emissions.

In practice, these projects require long-term finance backed by credible offtakers. When utilities are weak and currency risk is high, investors demand high returns or avoid projects altogether. Governments must then provide guarantees that strain already limited fiscal space.

The region remains locked into expensive, carbon-intensive thermal generation-not because renewables are costly, but because financing clean alternatives is risky.

What sits inside the SSA “risk premium”?

Financing costs for renewable power projects vary widely across countries. IRENA documents substantial differences in weighted average cost of capital across markets, with many African countries facing significantly higher financing costs than OECD markets.

Several factors drive this premium: offtaker risk (utilities with poor cost recovery and weak balance sheets), currency risk (local-currency revenues versus hard-currency costs), sovereign risk (debt stress limiting government guarantees), shallow capital markets (limited long-tenor local-currency finance), and policy and contract risk (concerns about enforcement and predictability).

Climate Policy Initiative highlights currency mismatch as a particularly important constraint, arguing that FX risk management is central to unlocking private capital for climate investment in EMDEs.

The real policy debate

Three broad schools of thought have emerged:

The IEA argues that reducing cost of capital in EMDEs could unlock very large investment gains and significantly lower the cost of clean energy deployment. But in SSA, the effectiveness of these tools depends critically on addressing utility fundamentals and currency risk alongside project-level de-risking.

The key insight for policymakers and industry

Sub-Saharan Africa does not primarily face a renewables financing problem. It faces an electricity system financing problem. Until the cost of capital for grids, utilities, and local-currency infrastructure falls, electrification and decarbonisation will both remain slower and more expensive than they should be-regardless of how cheap solar panels or wind turbines become.

Tariff reform, utility governance, FX risk solutions, and credible contracting frameworks are not just sector reforms. They are climate policy and electrification policy at the same time.

The bridge between electrification and decarbonisation in SSA is the cost of capital.

Dr. Rahmat Poudineh, Head of the Electricity Research Programme, Oxford Institute for Energy Studies (OIES)

Small-scale embedded generation: why compliance is the cornerstone of South Africa’s energy future

South Africa’s energy transition did not emerge from long‑term planning alone. It was accelerated by crisis.

 As load-shedding intensified and electricity supply became increasingly unreliable, households and businesses across the country turned to self-generation—particularly rooftop solar—as a practical response to an immediate challenge. What followed was one of the fastest decentralised energy shifts in South Africa’s history.

This movement is now formally known as Small‑Scale Embedded Generation (SSEG). While often viewed narrowly as a solar approval process, SSEG in fact represents a much deeper shift in how electricity systems are designed, governed, and shared.

From Centralised Power to Distributed Participation

For decades, South Africa’s electricity system was built on a simple premise: large, centralised power stations generate electricity, which flows one-way through transmission and distribution networks to end users. Consumers consumed; utilities generated.

Embedded generation at scale was never part of this original design.

When rooftop solar adoption began accelerating, it happened faster than regulatory frameworks could be developed. Municipalities and Eskom were suddenly faced with a grid receiving power from thousands of new sources —many of them unregistered, unseen, and uncoordinated.

The absence of early SSEG frameworks was therefore not a policy failure, but a reflection of how quickly the energy landscape changed.

Why SSEG Regulation Became Necessary

As embedded generation expanded, several critical risks emerged:

• • Reverse power flows into infrastructure designed for one-directional supply
  
• • Voltage fluctuations affecting power quality and equipment safety
  
• • Protection and isolation risks for maintenance teams
  
• • Revenue uncertainty for municipalities responsible for local grids
  
• • Without formal processes, decentralised energy—while well-intentioned—risked undermining the very system it sought to support.
  
• • SSEG regulation emerged as a stabilising mechanism: not to slow down adoption, but to enable it safely and at scale.
  

What the SSEG Process Actually Does

At its core, the SSEG application and approval process serves three essential functions:

1. Grid safety and system stability

Approved, certified inverters ensure automatic disconnection during outages, protect workers, and maintain voltage within acceptable limits.

2. Visibility and planning

Knowing where generation exists allows municipalities and Eskom to plan network upgrades, manage demand, and design future capacity expansions.

3. Formalisation of distributed energy assets

Compliance transforms informal installations into recognised infrastructure — insurable, financeable, and aligned with national energy planning.

In short, SSEG turns individual energy decisions into coordinated national progress.

Who Should Be Applying?

Any electricity customer installing a grid‑connected generation system—residential, commercial, agricultural, or industrial—should apply for SSEG approval through their local authority.

This includes:

• • Homeowners with rooftop solar
  
• • Businesses managing rising energy costs
  
• • Farms and agro-processing facilities
  
• • Schools, hospitals, and public institutions
  

Participation ensures that decentralised energy strengthens the grid rather than fragmenting it.

The Cost Question — and the Real Economics

One of the most common concerns around SSEG is cost.

In practice, compliance typically represents a small proportion of total system cost, covering application fees, inspections, engineering sign-off, and, where required, metering upgrades.

While this may appear burdensome upfront, non-compliance carries far greater long-term risk:

• • systems may be uninsurable
  
• • property transactions can be delayed or devalued
  
• • businesses may fail governance or ESG assessments
  
• • municipalities may disconnect unsafe installations
  

Compliance protects both the consumer and the system.

SSEG and the Expansion of the Grid

There is a misconception that embedded generation competes with grid expansion. In reality, the opposite is true.

When properly regulated, SSEG:

• • reduces peak demand strain
  
• • defers costly infrastructure upgrades
  
• • improves local energy resilience
  
• • enables more accurate long-term planning
  

This hybrid model—combining centralised generation, distributed energy, and storage—reflects how modern electricity systems operate globally.

It is a model increasingly discussed in international energy forums, including the World Economic Forum in Davos, where grid resilience, decentralisation, and energy governance dominate conversations about emerging economies.

Leadership Thinking at National Level

South Africa’s national energy leadership has consistently emphasised that the energy transition must balance speed with stability.

The Minister of Electricity and Energy has repeatedly highlighted the importance of orderly grid integration, noting that renewable energy and self-generation are essential to economic recovery—but must be implemented within frameworks that protect the grid and public safety.

Similarly, Eskom’s leadership has acknowledged that embedded generation is now a permanent feature of the energy landscape, requiring cooperation, transparency, and technical discipline rather than resistance.

SSEG is the practical expression of that philosophy.

Why Professionalisation Matters

As embedded generation becomes formal infrastructure, the role of qualified professionals becomes central.

Installers, engineers, and energy advisors are no longer simply service providers. They are:

• • interpreters of policy
  
• • custodians of safety standards
  
• • intermediaries between citizens and municipalities
  
• • contributors to national energy stability
  

Professionalisation ensures that decentralised energy grows responsibly, inclusively, and sustainably.

What Success Looks Like

If implemented well, SSEG will achieve far more than compliance statistics.

It will:

• • normalise citizen participation in infrastructure
  
• • strengthen municipal distribution networks
  
• • unlock investment aligned with ESG principles
  
• • support climate commitments
  
• • create skilled jobs in the energy sector
  

Most importantly, it will allow South Africa to move beyond emergency responses toward a deliberate, future-focused energy system.

Conclusion

SSEG is not merely an application form or a technical requirement. It is the framework through which South Africa reconciles decentralised innovation with national coordination.

The future grid will not be centralised — but it must be intelligent, visible, and governed.

Compliance is not the obstacle... it is the enabler.

Kabo Leshoai

South Africa’s electricity capacity cliff and the politics of imposed limits

South Africa’s electricity crisis is usually explained in familiar terms. Failing institutions. Corruption. Poor governance. Political indecision. These explanations dominate policy papers, donor reports, civil society analysis, and daily media coverage. They are not false but they are incomplete. What they miss is structure, writes Thuita Gatero.

A growing body of analysis argues that the core of South Africa’s power crisis is not moral or managerial. It is temporal. Capacity is being removed faster than the system can adapt. The crisis is not only about what went wrong inside institutions, but about how quickly physical energy assets are being withdrawn relative to what can realistically replace them.

This is the argument advanced by energy analyst Koko, who reframes the problem around speed, sequencing, and constraint rather than administrative failure.

By March 2030, South Africa is scheduled to retire roughly 9.5 gigawatts of coal-fired baseload power within a span of two years. That volume represents about 13.6% of peak electricity demand. The scale is significant, but the timing is decisive. These shutdowns are planned in an electricity system that is already short of supply. Plant availability is low. Demand continues to rise. Transmission constraints persist. Removing large blocks of stable generation under these conditions creates exposure that cannot be explained away by better management alone.

Koko describes this moment as an electricity capacity cliff. The term refers to the suddenness of withdrawal and the lack of time available for the system to reorganise itself. Baseload leaves the grid faster than infrastructure can be built, approvals secured, or new capacity physically connected. The paper’s main contribution is a metric called the Cliff Intensity Index (CII).

Instead of measuring ambition or installed targets, the index compares two velocities: the rate at which baseload capacity exits the system and the rate at which replacement capacity can be integrated under real-world conditions.

Grid readiness, institutional delays, construction timelines, and financing cycles are built into the calculation. South Africa’s CII is estimated at 2.16. In practical terms, this means baseload power is being withdrawn at more than twice the speed at which new capacity can be absorbed by the system.

For context, Germany’s fastest coal exit phase during the Energiewende recorded a CII of 0.27. The difference is not ideological. It is structural. Germany transitioned with surplus capacity, dense transmission networks, flat demand growth, and deep fiscal buffers. South Africa is transitioning with rising demand, limited grid expansion, tight capital, and high social vulnerability. Even under assumptions of strong governance and smooth execution, Koko’s sensitivity analysis shows South Africa’s CII only falling to 1.80. The mismatch remains. The constraint is built into the system.

The analysis does not dispute the necessity of renewable energy. It questions timing. Variable renewable generation cannot replace retiring baseload on a compressed schedule without parallel expansion in transmission, storage, and dispatchable backup. Those elements require land, materials, permits, skilled labour, financing, and years of construction. They cannot be rushed to match a two-year baseload exit window.

The sequence remains fixed. Coal capacity leaves first. Replacement follows later. The gap between the two produces sustained shortages that no amount of institutional reform can erase in the short term.

Koko frames South Africa’s dilemma as a three-way constraint under current conditions. The country cannot simultaneously retire coal rapidly, maintain system reliability, and avoid severe economic and social costs. Each path involves trade-offs. Delay retirements and face political and climate pressure. Accelerate replacement and confront grid and capital limits. Accept shortages and absorb the economic fallout. The point is not to deny responsibility where it exists. It is to relocate the debate.

South Africa’s electricity crisis is not only the product of poor decisions. It is the result of binding physical timelines colliding with policy commitments. Until that reality is confronted directly, the country will continue to diagnose a structural problem as a moral one—and remain stuck at the edge of the cliff.

Thuita Gatero is the Managing Editor of Africa Digest News. He specialises in conversations around data centers, AI, cloud infrastructure, and energy.

This article originally appeared on Africa Digest News and is published with permission.

Thithar Restaurant: breaking cultural barriers

When Glamorous Magaqa steps into a room what is felt is the energy, the confidence, and the unmistakable spark of a woman who builds her own lanes. Her entrepreneurial journey began with Glam Industries, a bold venture into event management and commodities.

And as if that weren’t enough, she carved out a space for her artistic alter ego too — Glamorous the DJ, a crowd favourite known for her vibrant presence behind the decks.

But it’s her second venture that has captured the heart (and taste buds) of the Midlands: Thithar. What started as a vision shared with her partners—to fill a “much-needed niche in the market for authentic Indian cuisine”—quickly evolved into one of the region’s most celebrated dining destinations. So far, Thithar’s unique concept and unforgettable flavours has earned it two Pietermaritzburg & Midlands Readers’ Choice Awards, solidifying its place as a standout in the local food landscape.

Located in Mkondeni—major industrial area in Pietermaritzburg, Thithar supports delivery and takeout, with a lounge vibe enhanced by live music on Friday nights from 6:30pm. Social media highlights its family-friendly gatherings, low-light ambiance, and events like stuffed buns launches.

Recently Glamorous took Leadership Magazine on her journey of an irrepressible African women entrepreneur who has broken some cultural barriers and established an Indian cuisine restaurant in the city of Pietermaritzburg.

“I was inspired by two things: the gaps I saw around me, and the strength I knew I carried within me. As a Black woman, I’ve often had to work twice as hard to be heard, seen, and taken seriously — and instead of letting that discourage me, it pushed me to create something of my own. I wanted to build a space where my ideas weren’t just included, but valued.”

Glamorous avers being a DJ helps her understand people’s energy - something entrepreneurs need to understand customer’s need

“When you’re behind the decks it’s about sensing what the moment and also audience need and responding with intention. That instinct has carried directly into my entrepreneurial mindset.”

Challenges of an African woman owning an Indian cuisine restaurant

“Owning an Indian restaurant as a Black woman has been a journey shaped by challenge, purpose, and profound personal loss. When we opened the restaurant, I wasn’t doing it alone — my business partner was Indian, someone who believed deeply in the vision and played a key role in grounding the cultural authenticity of our brand. Losing her so soon after we opened was one of the hardest moments of my life and of the business.

“Her passing forced me to step into a space that many never expected me to lead on my own. There were questions, assumptions, and at times a quiet disbelief about whether I could continue carrying a cuisine so culturally rich without her by my side. Navigating grief while also proving my ability to uphold the standards we built together was a challenge that demanded resilience I didn’t know I had.

“Standing in this space as a Black woman has become part of our story—a story of partnership, legacy, and possibility. It has allowed the restaurant to stand out, not because it breaks the mould, but because it shows how food can bridge cultures, carry memories, and create new narratives.”

Navigating Cultural Representation and Authenticity in Thithar

“We didn’t want to open just another restaurant, we wanted to create an experience that felt honest and intimate. Thithar was designed to transport people- to make them feel as though they were being welcomed into an Indian home where food is an expression of love, culture and community. Opening in the Midlands was a deliberate choice.

“From the very beginning I was deeply conscious of the responsibility that comes with telling a story that isn’t solely my own. Rather than positioning myself as an authority on Indian cuisine I approached Thithar as a custodian of a shared vision. The menu is shaped through collaboration, ensuring that we serve reflects real heritage rather than a commercialised version of it. As a black female founder, my role has been to protect that authenticity while also bringing my own lived experience into the brand.”

Scaling the Business While Maintaining the Quality

“The second location is a reflection of confidence in our foundation. From a brand perspective we’re resisting the temptation to over commercialise growth for us means deepening the experience, not diluting it ensuring that each location feels personal, considered and aligned with the original vision. Scale is only meaningful it enhances what already works. Our aim is to grow Thithar in a way that honours its origins, protects its reputation, and allows the brand to evolve without losing the trust and loyalty we have built.”

Thithar as a Lesson for Leadership and Resilience

“Leadership, for me, has also meant learning when to assert authority and when to listen deeply. Being an outsider sharpened my awareness—it taught me to observe, to respect cultural nuance, and to lead with empathy rather than ego. That balance has been critical in building trust with teams, partners, and customers.Perhaps most importantly, the experience has reinforced that authenticity is a strength, not a liability. I don’t lead by trying to fit into mould that wasn’t designed for me. I lead by being grounded in who I am—an African woman, a founder, and a custodian of a meaningful brand.

“That clarity has allowed me to build resilience not just to survive challenges, but to grow through them. In the end, leadership isn’t about belonging to a space, it’s about earning your place in it, through integrity, consistency, amid purpose.”

Advice to other – especially African Woman - Aspiring Breaking Barriers

“Start by owning your legitimacy—before anyone else does. You don’t need permission to enter a space. Preparation, consistency, and integrity will speak far louder than trying to prove you belong.Understand the industry deeply. Learn its rules, its history, and its blind spots. When you know the landscape better than those who underestimate you, confidence becomes natural rather than forced.

“Your perspective isn’t a disadvantage—it’s often the very thing that will set you apart. There will be moments of isolation, doubt, and fatigue, especially when you’re under-represented. In those moments, community matters. Seek out mentors, peers, and collaborators who see you clearly and support your growth, even if they don’t look like you or come from the same background.

“Be strategic, not reactive. Choose your battles, protect your energy, and remember that success doesn’t always require loud confrontation—sometimes it’s about longevity and quiet excellence. Most importantly, don’t wait to feel ready. Growth happens in motion. When African women step into spaces that weren’t designed for them and succeed anyway, they don’t just change their own lives —hey expand what’s possible for those who follow.”

Ido Lekota is a media practitioner and an independent socio-political commentator.

Rethinking power, control, and infrastructure resilience in Africa

Africa’s industrial growth will not wait for
perfect conditions, writes Nhlanhla Zondo

Across much of the African continent, power and control infrastructure does not fail because it is poorly designed. It fails because it is too often designed for ideal conditions that simply do not exist.

Engineers and operators are required to work within an environment shaped by infrastructure vandalism, material theft, harsh weather conditions, constrained capital budgets, unreliable grids, and persistent skills shortages. In this context, traditional assumptions about asset replacement, digitalisation, and imported solutions are increasingly being challenged.

What is emerging instead is a more pragmatic engineering philosophy, one that prioritises resilience, adaptability and longevity over novelty. At the centre of this shift is a growing recognition that Africa’s infrastructure challenge is not merely about building more, but about making existing systems smarter, tougher, and more maintainable.

When replacement is not an option

In many mature industrial and municipal environments, full system replacement is neither financially viable nor operationally prudent. Capital expenditure is tightly constrained, while downtime carries significant social, safety, and economic consequences. As a result, refurbishment and life-extension strategies are becoming essential engineering tools rather than budget compromises.

Targeted refurbishment of existing assets such as mini-substations, distribution kiosks, and control panels allows utilities and industrial operators to address safety, reliability, and security risks without the disruption and cost associated with complete rebuilds. By upgrading enclosures, renewing critical internal components, and integrating modern monitoring capabilities, infrastructure can be stabilised and modernised incrementally.

This approach reflects a broader shift in thinking: performance gains do not always require wholesale replacement, but rather intelligent intervention based on a deep understanding of operating context.

Designing for vandalism, theft, and environmental stress

One of the defining characteristics of African infrastructure environments is that physical security is not optional. Theft of copper components, vandalism of kiosks, and unauthorised access to live electrical equipment remain among the leading causes of outages, safety incidents, and revenue loss.

In response, physical hardening has become a core design principle rather than an afterthought. Structural reinforcement, intelligent access control, and the removal of scrap value from components are increasingly embedded into enclosure and distribution system design. This is not merely about protecting assets, but about safeguarding communities and ensuring service continuity.

Material selection plays a crucial role in this context. Moving beyond conventional mild steel, engineers are increasingly adopting corrosion-resistant and high-strength materials better suited to humidity, dust, temperature extremes, and coastal conditions. Although such materials may carry a higher upfront cost, they significantly reduce lifecycle expenditure by extending service life and lowering maintenance demands.

Local manufacturing as a resilience strategy

Global supply chain volatility has reinforced an insight long understood by African engineers: local manufacturing is not just an economic advantage, but a reliability strategy. Local production enables tighter control over quality, faster response times, and the ability to customise solutions for highly specific operating conditions.

It also reduces exposure to shipping delays, currency fluctuations, and long lead times for replacement components, factors that can severely undermine system uptime in critical installations.

By retaining manufacturing, testing, and refurbishment capabilities close to the point of use, companies can reduce mean time to repair (MTTR), maintain legacy systems long after imported components become obsolete, and respond rapidly to unforeseen failures. In constrained environments, responsiveness is often as important as technical sophistication.

Digitalisation must sit inside hardened infrastructure

Digitalisation and automation are accelerating across African industries, driven by the need for improved efficiency, predictive maintenance and energy optimisation. However, the success of these initiatives depends on a fundamental but often overlooked reality: digital systems are only as reliable as the physical infrastructure that protects them.

Remote monitoring platforms, smart meters and IoT devices offer little value if sensors can be stolen, communication modules vandalised, or enclosures breached. As a result, a layered design approach is gaining traction, one that integrates digital intelligence within physically hardened systems.

This approach allows operators to monitor asset health, energy consumption, and fault conditions in real-time, while ensuring that the underlying hardware remains secure and operational. Importantly, it also supports incremental digital upgrades, enabling legacy systems to be brought into modern monitoring environments without the need for complete replacement.

Incremental modernisation over wholesale change

A growing number of clients are prioritising modular, scalable upgrades over large-scale system replacements. This reflects both economic reality and operational pragmatism.

Incremental modernisation allows organisations to spread capital expenditure over time, minimise operational disruption, demonstrate early performance gains, and retain compatibility with legacy infrastructure.

By focusing on component-level upgrades, intelligent retrofits and phased implementation, infrastructure owners can improve safety, efficiency, and reliability while maintaining flexibility to adapt as technologies evolve.

This strategy also reduces the risk associated with rapid technological change, ensuring that investments remain relevant even as control philosophies, communication standards, and automation platforms continue to develop.

Skills as critical infrastructure

Beyond hardware and software, Africa’s infrastructure resilience challenge is fundamentally a human one. A shortage of mid-level engineers with experience spanning both legacy mechanical systems and modern digital control environments poses a growing risk to system sustainability.

Local manufacturing environments that integrate design, fabrication, assembly, and testing serve as powerful training grounds for developing this hybrid skillset. Mentorship, apprenticeship programmes and structured youth employment initiatives play a critical role in embedding technical knowledge within local contexts.

When skills development is treated as a strategic investment rather than a compliance exercise, it strengthens long-term system performance by ensuring that infrastructure can be maintained, adapted and upgraded locally, without perpetual reliance on external expertise.

Engineering for reality, not ideal conditions

Africa’s industrial growth will not wait for perfect conditions.

Infrastructure must function in environments defined by constraint, complexity, and unpredictability. The most successful engineering solutions emerging today are those grounded in realism, solutions that acknowledge vandalism as a design variable, capital scarcity as a constant, and adaptability as a necessity.

By prioritising refurbishment over replacement, embedding digital intelligence within physically secure systems, investing in local manufacturing and skills, and designing explicitly for real operating conditions, the continent’s power and control infrastructure can become more resilient, more sustainable, and better aligned with its realities.

At Power Process Systems (PPS), these principles increasingly inform how locally engineered control, distribution. and automation solutions are conceived, manufactured. and deployed, not as isolated products, but as part of a broader systems-thinking approach to Africa’s infrastructure future.

Nhlanhla Zondo is the Sales Director for Power Process Systems (PPS)

Why leadership development matters more than ever for retaining top local talent

South Africa is lagging global peers on leadership development investment despite rising pressure to retain top talent, writes Mark Watt

As global companies continue to increase investment in leadership development to strengthen retention, South Africa risks falling behind.

Internationally, organisations are lifting leadership development spend by an average of 10% a year, but constrained budgets locally have limited similar investment, despite mounting pressure to retain high-performing talent.

In South Africa, leadership development investment should realistically be closer to a 15% to 20% over the medium-term, as while local organisations may not be able to match the spending power of larger global markets, leadership capability remains one of the country’s strongest differentiators. Encouragingly, many boards and executive teams recognise this and are beginning to prioritise development more deliberately.

Research from Heidrick & Struggles, a global leadership advisory firm, shows that three in four executives fear losing employees to better external opportunities, while over 90% believe learning and development are essential for retaining top talent. But many companies struggle to translate this awareness into effective action, often investing in poorly targeted or ineffective and costly interventions that deliver limited organisational value.

Decisions to stay or leave an organisation are deeply personal, making it difficult to determine where to invest for the greatest impact. However, based on its work across South Africa and internationally, Heidrick & Struggles has identified seven key leadership development practices commonly used by companies with stronger retention outcomes:

1. Clearly linking skills development with career progression

There is a clear link between skill development and career progression. Yet many development programmes, including further education and external coaching or mentorship, fail to connect to an employee’s actual role. When development enhances a CV without improving day-to-day performance, its retention and organisational impact are limited.

2. Embedding leadership development into organisational culture

The most effective development programmes should complement a company culture that supports employee well-being, morale, and empowerment, rather than being treated as compliance exercises. Many high-performing leaders placed by Heidrick & Struggles come from organisations that consistently invest in development across the business, reinforcing leadership capability as a shared expectation instead of a selective reward.

3. Aligning leadership development to organisational purpose and values

Employees who are aligned with a company’s purpose and values tend to be more satisfied in their roles and remain longer. Leadership development is most effective when it reinforces meaning in work and supports greater harmony between individual motivation and organisational direction.

4. Building leaders who can manage constant change and uncertainty

Talent is more likely to stay through volatile cycles when organisations prepare individuals and leaders to successfully handle change. Leaders who are prepared to adapt quickly and manage uncertainty well are also better equipped to help teams remain stable and work through any challenges more efficiently.

5. Using leadership development as a visible signal that talent is valued

Sustained, large-scale investment in leadership development signals a company’s long-term commitment to its employees, particularly when supported by other retention practices. That investment communicates value, reinforcing an organisation’s intent to grow its people internally.

6. Avoiding inconsistent or credibility-damaging implementation

A persistent issue across industries is inconsistent implementation. Programmes are often poorly designed or applied unevenly. Fast-tracking individuals who do not demonstrate the organisation’s values creates perceptions of unfairness and weakens the credibility of development initiatives, eroding their retention value.

7. Broadening development beyond senior and C-suite roles

Leadership development is often concentrated at senior or executive levels rather than focusing on high-potential employees throughout organisations with the capacity to grow. A bottom-up approach, with layered development at multiple levels, delivers far greater impact.

Ultimately, leadership development supports retention most effectively when organisations first correctly identify whether dissatisfaction stems from development gaps or from deeper issues such as misalignment around purpose, direction, or culture. Development also delivers the greatest value when it includes practical experience, role movement, and exposure to new challenges, rather than relying solely on classroom-based learning or isolated interventions.

For organisations under pressure to retain leadership capability, development investment must therefore be treated as a strategic choice rather than a discretionary cost. When applied with clarity and discipline, development programmes can significantly strengthen succession and improve company performance, delivering impressive returns on investment.

Mark Watt is a Partner at Heidrick & Struggles South Africa.

Leadership continuity: the crucial caveat in South Africa’s transformation agenda

Kgomotso Lebele believes progress is built on resilience, not only on constant reinvention, at leadership level. In this piece, he explores why consistency—the kind that enables organisations to build trust, deepen relationships, and sustain momentum—is essential for transformation. In a market where change is both urgent and complex, continuity remains the caveat rarely discussed, yet it is the one that matters most.

South Africans are no strangers to instability. Some major public and private organisations have experienced rapid leadership turnover over the past two decades, with each change coinciding with operational setbacks and governance strain. Such frequent transitions are clear signals of systemic fragility. High leadership turnover erodes trust, disrupts economic recovery, and ultimately forces organisations into survival mode rather than enabling progressive transformation.

While the operational costs of short leadership cycles can be significant, they often go unnoticed. Procurement frameworks often have to be reset before they have a chance to mature, and capital projects stall during periods of transition. Compliance roadmaps must be continuously rewritten to keep pace with ever-changing policies, which introduces new levels of risk when stability is needed most.

Enterprise-wide technology programmes slow down as sponsorship changes, architecture decisions are inconsistent, and delivery teams lose direction. Organisational culture also suffers when employees become hesitant to share ideas when priorities are constantly shifting. When these issues become daily friction points that lead to lost time, increased costs, and reduced accountability, leadership has become a bottleneck. In stark contrast, when leadership is stable, it enables governance cycles to complete, benefits to be tracked, and each improvement to become a building block on the last, shifting transformation from simple planning to measurable results.

Stability is gaining renewed prominence in the private sector. Industry data reveals an upward trend in CEO tenure among the country’s leading companies, highlighting a shift toward valuing sustained leadership as a key driver of organisational performance.

Laying the foundation for lasting change

Transformation is a long game played with decisions that amplify over time. Policy uncertainty, constant strain on infrastructure, growing social inequality, and geopolitical strain are just some of the hurdles that leaders are up against, proving that more than technical skill, they need time. Time to embed frameworks that last longer than headlines, to align emerging technology with human capability, and turn lip service into service delivery.

The most powerful technologies are not plug-and-play. Data platforms, AI models, automation at scale, and cloud-based operating models demand patient leadership. It takes time to set enterprise guardrails, to design human-centred processes, and to build the skills that make technology effective in the hands of real teams.

It also takes time to modernise data, improve data quality, and establish the controls that keep information safe, proving that cyber resilience is a long game that takes discipline.

The risks increase when accountability moves too often, and knowledge is fragmented across transitions. Continuity gives leaders the space to sponsor responsible AI, to put in place governance that balances innovation with ethics, and to fund change management that helps people work differently. With stable sponsorship, programmes benefits can be tracked against clear baselines, with lessons learned informing the next wave of releases. Only from these can we see how technology investment becomes capability, which, in turn, becomes performance that endures.

Accenture research tells us that only about 30% of large-scale transformation efforts achieve their intended outcomes. One of the strongest predictors of success? Consistent leadership alignment. In our country, where transformation agendas too often get lost to short-term gains, leadership continuity means the difference between incremental change and systemic impact.

Trust, consistency, and the power to transform

Continuity builds trust, and trust is the driver of transformation. Clients who believe that leadership will not change with every market shock invest deeper. Employees who believe there’s a steady hand at the helm commit to the long haul. These are not abstract ideals. Trust directly translates into resilience when crisis hits and it’s time for bold moves.

Some of our country’s greatest turnaround stories are case in point. Despite fluctuating metal prices and an unpredictable global economic outlook, one of the platinum group metals miners remains profitable, reporting revenue of R32.9 billion—a 6.9% increase from the previous year. The multinational bank and financial services group delivered headline earnings of R45 billion and a return on equity of 18.5%, reflecting the depth of its diversified portfolio and its continued focus on creating value for stakeholders. These wins are not accidents; they are the proof points of leadership continuity, real-world examples of decision-makers who stayed, steered, and executed through the turbulence.

Leading past survival

We need to let go of the notion that leadership continuity is about avoiding change. In fact, it is precisely what enables the right kind of change. Without it, there will be no reinvention of any kind. No investment in innovation, no inclusivity and diversity in talent pipelines, no shaping industries that are fit for the future. Just more cycles of reactive stagnation.

We are a resilient, growing nation, but our country’s transformation agenda is crying out for leadership that sticks around. Yes, the economy is growing, but we can do more than 0.6%. We owe our youth better than a 46% unemployment rate. And together we can rise to meet the estimated R2 trillion needed for infrastructure upgrades in 2030. What we can’t do is tackle any of these challenges without leaders who are in it for the long haul.

A different ending: shifting the lens to accountability and courage

Change must happen at board level because continuity begins with how leaders are selected, supported, and evaluated. What does this mean? Aligning performance measures to the transformation timelines and setting explicit expectations for cross-functional collaboration, technology governance, and people outcomes. It also means preparing successors early so that continuity survives natural transitions.

Leadership pipelines should include a blend of operational depth, digital fluency, and the ability to mobilise large teams. When boards match tenure to the complexity of the agenda and protect leaders from unnecessary whiplash, they increase the odds that strategy will be delivered, not just announced, and that is accountability earns confidence.

At Accenture, we believe that true transformation is built on more than innovative strategies or technological investment—it requires leaders who are committed to staying the course. Leadership continuity is not about resisting change; it is about having the presence, accountability, and courage to guide organisations through complexity, build trust, and turn long-term vision into lasting impact.

By prioritising consistent leadership, organisations can move beyond reactive cycles, embed meaningful frameworks, and create sustainable growth that benefits employees, stakeholders, and the nation as a whole. In today’s dynamic environment, continuity is the differentiator between incremental adjustments and transformative outcomes, and we urge leaders to recognise its value and act accordingly.

Kgomotso Lebele is the Country Managing Director for Accenture South Africa.

Who really gets access to higher education in South Africa?

Higher education should be a ladder out of poverty, not a
system that reflects existing inequality, writes Nasiphi Ndevu

Higher Education is often described as the bridge between poverty and opportunity. In South Africa, this statement carries deep meaning. A university degree or college qualification is not just a personal achievement, it is often the difference between unemployment and employment, between generational poverty and upward mobility. For many young people, higher education represents hope.

Over the past three decades, South Africa has made significant progress in expanding access to universities and Technical and Vocational Education and Training (TVET) colleges. Today, more black students, more women, and more first-generation students are entering higher education than ever before.

According to recent data, more than 1.7 million students were enrolled in post-school education and training institutions in 2025, including universities and TVET colleges. This shows real growth in access.

However, access does not automatically mean success. Behind these numbers lies a deeper reality. Thousands of students who qualify for university never find space. Many who enrol struggle to afford basic living costs. Others drop out before completing their degrees. Funding systems such as the National Student Financial Aid Scheme (NSFAS) have opened doors, but they are also under severe pressure.

The question is no longer only about expanding access. The real question is: Who truly benefits from higher education in South Africa and who continues to be left out?

Expanding Access: Progress Since 1994

South Africa’s higher education system has changed significantly since the end of apartheid. Before 1994, access to universities was racially segregated and deeply unequal. Black South Africans were systematically excluded from quality institutions and opportunities.

Today, the system includes 26 public universities and more than 50 public TVET colleges. Enrolment has grown steadily over the years. Universities now enrol over 1.1 million students annually, while TVET colleges enrol hundreds of thousands more.

Importantly, participation rates among black students have increased dramatically. Women now make up the majority of university students in many institutions. This reflects important social progress and the success of policies aimed at widening access.

However, growth has also put a strain on institutions who continue to contend with overcrowded lecture halls, shortages of student accommodation, ageing infrastructure, and pressure on academic staff. While more students are entering the system, resources have not always grown at the same pace.

Demand Is Greater Than Supply

Each year, hundreds of thousands of learners complete matric with university entrance passes. Yet many are unable to secure space at public institutions.

For example, in a recent academic cycle, more than 300 000 learners qualified for degree studies, but universities could only accommodate around 200 000 first-year students. This gap leaves many qualified students without options.

The result is frustration and uncertainty. Some students turn to private colleges, which are often expensive. Others defer their studies. Many enter the job market without qualifications, joining an already high youth unemployment rate that sits above 40% for young people aged 15–34.

This imbalance between demand and institutional capacity shows that, while access has expanded, it remains limited.

The Rising Cost of Higher Education

Higher education in South Africa is expensive. Tuition fees at public universities vary depending on the programme, but annual costs can range from R30 000 to over R70 000. When accommodation, food, transport, textbooks, and other living expenses are added, the total cost of studying can easily exceed R100 000 per year.

For families earning low or moderate incomes, this is unaffordable.

South Africa remains one of the most unequal societies in the world, with high levels of poverty and unemployment. Many households survive on social grants or informal work. In this context, higher education costs represent a major barrier to access.

This financial pressure led to nationwide student protests in 2015 and 2016 under the banner of #FeesMustFall. These protests forced the government to review its funding model and led to the introduction of free higher education for students from low-income households.

NSFAS: Opening Doors, Facing Pressure

The National Student Financial Aid Scheme (NSFAS) is the main funding mechanism supporting poor and working-class students. In 2018, the government introduced a policy of fully subsidised free higher education for students from households earning below a specific income threshold.

Since then, NSFAS has grown significantly and continues to grow.

In 2025, more than 540 000 university students were funded by NSFAS, alongside hundreds of thousands at TVET colleges. Government spending on NSFAS has increased dramatically over the past decade, with tens of billions of rands allocated annually.

This expansion has allowed many students who would never have been able to afford university to register and continue their studies. However, the scheme faces serious challenges.

Budget Shortfalls and Financial Sustainability

Despite increased funding, NSFAS continues to experience budget shortfalls. Rising enrolment numbers and increasing costs mean that demand for financial aid often exceeds available funds. Reports have indicated multi-billion rand funding gaps in recent years.

When budgets fall short, students may face delays in receiving confirmation of funding, or institutions may struggle with unpaid fees. This raises questions about long-term sustainability. As the number of students grows, can the government continue to carry the financial burden alone?

Administrative Failures and Student Hardship

Beyond funding levels, administrative problems have undermined confidence in NSFAS. Students frequently report delayed application outcomes, late payment of monthly allowances, technical errors in online systems, and confusion about accommodation payments.

For students who depend entirely on allowances for food and transport, delays can be devastating. Some students go weeks without receiving funds, forcing them to borrow money or go without meals.

These issues distract students from their academic work and create emotional stress. In extreme cases, funding confusion leads to students being academically excluded or unable to register. While reforms have been introduced, improving governance and administration remains a priority.

The “Missing Middle”: Caught Between Two Worlds

One of the most debated issues in higher education funding is the “missing middle”. These are students whose families earn too much to qualify for NSFAS but not enough to comfortably afford university fees. This group often falls between the cracks. They may not qualify for government aid, yet banks are reluctant to provide student loans without guarantees. Many families are already financially stretched.

As a result, some academically capable students never enrol, while others accumulate debt or drop out due to unpaid fees. Addressing the needs of the missing middle requires creative policy solutions, such as income-contingent loans, blended funding models, or expanded private sector bursaries.

Access Does Not Guarantee Success

Getting into university is only the first step. Completion rates remain a serious concern. Studies have shown that a significant percentage of students who enter higher education do not complete their qualifications within the expected time. Many take longer than three years to finish a three-year degree. Others drop out entirely. Several factors contribute to this:

Academic Preparedness

Many students come from under-resourced schools where teaching quality, subject choice, and infrastructure are limited. When they enter university, they may struggle with academic writing, mathematics, or independent learning. Without strong support programmes, these students fall behind.

Financial Stress

Even with NSFAS support, students may face additional costs not fully covered. Financial stress affects concentration, performance, and mental wellbeing.

Mental Health Pressures

University life can be emotionally demanding. Students face academic pressure, social adjustment, and family expectations. Mental health services at many institutions are overstretched.

Accommodation and Living Conditions

Some students live in overcrowded or unsafe housing. Others commute long distances daily. These factors impact study time and overall wellbeing. When students drop out, the consequences are severe. They often leave with debt but no qualification, limiting their employment prospects.

TVET Colleges: An Underestimated Sector

While universities receive most public attention, TVET colleges play a critical role in skills development. They offer practical, vocational training in fields such as engineering, hospitality, and business studies.

Enrolment at TVET colleges has grown, yet the sector faces challenges including: outdated equipment, limited industry partnerships, stigma around vocational education and lower throughput rates.

Strengthening TVET colleges could reduce pressure on universities and provide alternative pathways to employment. However, this requires investment and stronger links with industry.

The Role of the Private Sector

The private sector has a vital role in addressing funding gaps and aligning education with labour market needs. Companies can contribute through bursaries and scholarships, graduate internship programmes, research partnerships, and mentorship initiatives.

Public-private partnerships can also help modernise infrastructure and improve curriculum relevance. Employers often complain that graduates lack practical skills. Stronger collaboration between universities and industry can bridge this gap and improve employability.

Government Responsibility and Policy Reform

The government must continue reviewing the funding model to ensure sustainability and fairness. Key priorities include improving NSFAS governance and transparency, expanding support for the missing middle, increasing investment in infrastructure, strengthening oversight of institutions, and promoting research and innovation. Higher education should not only expand in numbers but also improve in quality.

Higher Education and the Economy

Higher education is directly linked to economic growth. Countries with strong university systems tend to have higher levels of innovation, productivity, and income. In South Africa, graduate unemployment is lower than unemployment among those without qualifications. This shows that education still improves employment chances.

However, if students cannot complete their qualifications or if funding systems fail, the country loses valuable human capital. Investing in higher education is not simply a social issue, it is an economic necessity.

From Access to True Opportunity

South Africa has made undeniable progress in expanding higher education since 1994. Millions of young people who were once excluded now have access to universities and colleges. NSFAS has opened doors for hundreds of thousands of students. Yet inequality persists. Funding shortfalls, administrative failures, capacity constraints, and low completion rates continue to limit the full promise of higher education.

The challenge now is not just to open doors; it is to ensure students can walk through them and graduate successfully. If South Africa is serious about reducing inequality and growing its economy, it must treat higher education as a national priority. Sustainable funding models, improved governance, stronger institutional support, and meaningful private sector partnerships are essential. Higher education should be a ladder out of poverty, not a system that reflects existing inequality. Until access is matched with success and sustainability, the question remains urgent and necessary: Who really gets access and who is still being left behind?

Nasiphi Ndevu