They say we are free. But for the millions of us who wake up jobless, excluded, and voiceless, it doesn’t feel like freedom. Not when 62.4% of young people between the ages of 15 and 24 in South Africa can’t find work. Not when economic dignity is a dream we’ve been priced out of. Not when those who died for our liberation look down and see their grandchildren still shackled, just in different chains.

This is the new struggle. And the battleground is economic.

Our parents and grandparents marched, toyi-toyied, and bled for freedom. But somewhere between Codesa and today, the script changed. Political liberation was won—but economic liberation was privatised. State-owned assets were sold off. Decisions once made in Parliament now happen in private boardrooms. And in those boardrooms, young, black, working-class lives don’t factor into profit margins.

We were told to be patient. That transformation takes time. But time has only multiplied our suffering. Now, millions of young people are reduced to statistics and slurs called lazy, entitled, unemployable. Detractors ignore the real structural violence we face: education that doesn’t equip, industries that won’t hire, and an economy built to exclude.

Still, some fight. One of them is Dr Iqbal Survé.

Dr Survé is a rare figure in South Africa’s private sector. A businessman, one who speaks the language of justice. While many corporate leaders remain silent on youth exclusion, he has stepped forward, again and again, to challenge the system that locks us out.

And he doesn’t just talk. He invests. He builds. He empowers.

At a recent gathering, Dr Survé called youth unemployment the greatest crisis facing post-apartheid South Africa. He didn’t hide behind vague terms like “labour absorption” or “economic headwinds.” He spoke plainly: 4.8 million young people in South Africa live without opportunity, without dignity, without hope.

He called it what it is, a national emergency.

But more than diagnosing the problem, Dr Survé points to solutions, real ones rooted in the digital revolution. He understands that while traditional jobs vanish, new digital opportunities are rising. But access to those opportunities isn’t equal. It never is.

So he calls for structural reforms in finance and private capital to democratise access to the digital economy, not just for the elite few, but for all of us.

Take the story of Thato Joseph Mashifane, a young man from Dennilton, Limpopo. He was unemployed, like millions of us. But instead of giving up, he created a viral alter ego, “Sis Maria,” on TikTok. That hustle turned into a business. A job. A future. Dr Survé didn’t just applaud the creativity, he highlighted it as proof that with the right platforms and support, youth can transform adversity into innovation.

But not everyone is as lucky as Thato. Not everyone has data, devices, or networks. And without real investment in digital infrastructure and inclusive financing, the promise of digital transformation becomes just another myth sold to the youth.

Dr Survé’s warning is clear: If we do not fix the system, our generation will be lost.

Yet, he stands almost alone in this fight. Most of the private sector turns a blind eye. Instead of building bridges, they hoard resources. Instead of empowering black youth, they hide behind policy. And when black excellence does rise, it’s reduced to quotas or charity.

Even worse, leaders like Dr Survé are vilified for trying to change things. For standing up, he’s been targeted financially, politically, and publicly. But still, he refuses to be silent.

Because he remembers the struggle.

He honours the memory of Steve Biko and Winnie Mandela, not with empty slogans, but with action. He reminds us that the fight continues. And today, it’s a different kind of fight. No longer for the vote, but for economic dignity. For inclusion. For the right to dream, and to realise that dream.

The youth aren’t asking for handouts. We’re demanding the removal of the structural barriers that keep us in poverty while others dine on our potential. We want a country that sees us, not as threats or burdens, but as partners in its future.

The truth is, we don’t need another “youth month” speech or policy summit. We need capital. We need access. We need investment in our ideas, our creativity, our power.

We need more leaders like Dr Survé. Not because he’s perfect, but because he’s fighting the right battle.

The one for us.

* Colin Pietersen is an independent writer. 

** The views expressed do not necessarily reflect the views of IOL or Independent Media. 

Source link