While they fill their pockets, we bury our dreams. And the bill always comes to us.
Here is how it works in South Africa.
The state collects taxes from a shrinking pool of workers. That money is meant to build schools, create jobs, and keep families alive. Instead, it is allegedly squandered on luxury cars, designer wardrobes, and fancy lifestyles.
Then, when the theft becomes too loud to ignore, the same broke state burns millions on enquiry commissions to investigate the looters. I am grateful for the Madlangla Commission. But if they had managed their greed, we would never have needed it. We are paying to clean up a mess they chose to make.
And when caught? They act targeted. Persecuted. They forget that they indirectly ruined countless lives.
This is the engine of our collapse. Corruption is not a side story. It is the root of every other suffering.
The Unemployable Generation: Youth in Free Fall
Stats SA Q1 2026 tells the human cost:
- 60.9% unemployment for ages 15-24
- 40.6% unemployment for ages 25-34
- 37.6% NEET for 15-24 – NEET stands for Not in Education, Employment, or Training
- 45.6% NEET for 15-34
That is 3.9 million young people doing nothing. Learning nothing. Earning nothing. Nearly half of our youth are disconnected from the economy entirely.
And the longer they wait, the more they become unemployable. Skills rust. Confidence breaks. Hope dies. A 24-year-old who has never worked becomes a 34-year-old who never will. The system is not failing to hire them. It is manufacturing a permanent underclass.
Young women suffer most. 39.2% are NEET – up 1.7 points from last year. Young men saw a slight improvement. The gap is now 3.2 percentage points and widening. While men edge toward the labour market, women are being pushed further away.
This is not just unemployment anymore. This is the slow destruction of an entire generation.
The Squeeze: When Work Does Not Save You
For those who do work, the ground is shifting beneath their feet.
22,000 Pick n Pay workers allegedly face losing their Sunday pay. Permanent staff will allegedly work Sundays without pay to “protect” the business. Protect it from what? And who protects them?
The pattern is clear: the people carrying the economy are asked to carry more. The people at the top keep their bonuses and their distance. You are not being retrenched. You are being slowly stripped – of your time, your dignity, your ability to feed your family.
And then comes the petrol.
June allegedly brings another hike – up to R2.20 for petrol, at least R3 more for diesel. The temporary R3 fuel levy relief expires on June 2. After that, we sink.
A parent now chooses: fuel or food? Bread, taxis, everything rises. Petrol was 21.1 cents in 1976. Allegedly R26.52 by May 2026. That is a 12,470% increase over 50 years. Your grandfather filled a tank for what you now pay for a cup of coffee.
The Durban Chamber of Commerce calls it “devastating.” Momentum Group allegedly warns that households will turn to credit to survive – digging holes they will never escape.
So the employed face a pincer movement: wages eroded by inflation, conditions eroded by restructuring, and transport costs eroded by global chaos – a war in Iran, a strait in the Middle East – that we did not cause but always pay for. South Africa has no buffer. No plan. We simply pass the pain straight to the people who can least afford it.
The Unlivable: When the State Forgets You Exist
While all this unfolds, the rains come.
If you saw how people’s homes were flooded in the past two days, you would cry. Walls collapsed. Families stood in knee-deep water. Possessions washed away. And the state? Nowhere. No emergency teams. No relief. No disaster declaration.
A state of disaster was declared for COVID-19. Where is the state of disaster for 60.9% youth unemployment? For 45.6% of youth sitting idle? For families flooded out of their homes this week? For 22,000 workers losing their Sunday pay?
There is none. Because the poor do not fund campaigns. Because suffering does not make headlines. Because it is easier to manage press conferences than to manage a country.
They have created unlivable conditions. They allegedly fill their pockets while hospitals run out of supplies and schools crumble. They plead poverty while living in luxury. Then they demand commissions to investigate themselves – paid for by the same people they stole from – and cry persecution when caught.
The Picture: One Story, One Rot
See it now? It is all one story.
They steal the money. Schools decay. Youth programmes vanish. Young people finish school with no jobs to find, no skills to learn, no path forward. They become NEET. They become unemployable. They become ghosts in their own country.
They steal the money. Infrastructure crumbles. Drains block. Homes flood. No help comes. The people who paid tax for protection receive neglect in return.
They steal the money. The state is broke. Fuel levies expire. Workers’ benefits are cut. Commissions are funded. And the same leaders who caused the crisis act targeted when asked to answer for it.
Corruption is not separate from unemployment. It is the cause. Corruption is not separate from flooding. It is the cause – money for drains spent on dinners, money for housing spent on cars. Corruption is not separate from petrol pain. It is the cause – no strategic fuel reserve, no domestic buffer, no plan, because planning requires competent stewards, not looters.
These people are failing to do the bare minimum for the citizens of South Africa.
What It Feels Like: The Weight of It All
You finish school. No money for university. No jobs to find. You try a side hustle. Costs kill it. You become a NEET statistic – not unemployed, unpersoned. Every year you sit idle, you become less employable. The system is not ignoring you. It is digesting you.
You are working? One petrol hike from crisis. One restructuring from losing your Sunday pay. One emergency from debt you die owing. You carry the economy on your back, and they keep adding weight.
You are a woman? Double burden. Higher exclusion, lower pay, silent expectation to manage anyway.
You live in a township? One storm from disaster. Home flooded. No help comes. You watch the news: millions found for commissions, none for you.
And through it all, leaders speak of “growth,” “investment,” “resilience.” Words that mean nothing when your stomach is empty, your CV gathers dust, your floor is still wet, and your tax receipt is a reminder of what was taken and never returned.
Enough: The Breaking Point
South Africans are resilient. But resilience tears if overused.
Month after month, year after year, pressure rises and relief never comes. We are expected to tighten belts around waists with nothing left. We are told to be patient while our youth become unemployable. We are told to sacrifice while they sacrifice nothing. We are told to trust commissions funded by the same theft that made them necessary.
This is not politics. This is survival. And the people entrusted with our survival are allegedly failing us.
We demand:
- A state of economic disaster declared – not just for viruses, but for 60.9% youth unemployment
- Fuel levy relief extended permanently – not a band-aid that expires
- Real youth employment programmes – not paper frameworks, but actual jobs
- Protection for workers – no more Sunday pay stripped to “protect” businesses
- Drains fixed before the next storm – basic dignity for flood victims
- An end to the bleeding of public funds into private luxury
And above all: stop stealing from the people you claim to serve. Because every rand stolen is a job not created. Every commission funded is a house not built. Every luxury car is a young person told: your future is not worth my comfort.
Because if you won’t act, the streets eventually will. History is clear on that.
We are breaking. And we are running out of reasons to stay quiet about it.
