By Nelson “Dieta Motjhapalong” Mokoena, a young socialist civics activist,organizer of the unorganized, writing in his own capacity.
I am Tintshwalo, born on 27 April 1994—the very day our nation stepped out from the shadows of apartheid into what was promised as a new era of hope and equality. As a child of Freedom Day, I grew up hearing stories of triumph, of how my birth coincided with the first democratic vote that ended white minority rule.
My parents named me with dreams of a brighter future, yet here I stand, three decades later, wrestling with a deep sense of disappointment and unresolved pain. This “freedom” feels like an unfinished promise, a personal wound that aches in my daily life as I navigate unemployment lines and witness friends in townships struggling to survive. The ANC, once my family’s beacon of resistance, now seems distant, entangled in compromises that leave ordinary people like me behind. As someone who organizes the unorganized—the forgotten workers, the youth without prospects—I feel a profound calling to reignite the true spirit of our liberation.
The revolution isn’t complete; it’s a fire that flickers weakly, and I yearn to fan it back to life, drawing strength from the martyrs of the ANC and Umkhonto we Sizwe (MK), who sacrificed everything for a socialist vision of justice and dignity.
In my everyday reality, South Africa remains the world’s most unequal society, a truth that hits home when I see my community grappling with poverty while a small elite prospers. Youth like me face staggering unemployment rates over 60%, trapping us in cycles of despair, while land remains largely in the hands of a few, and our resources flow to foreign corporations.
The ANC’s alliances in the Government of National Unity feel like a dilution of our hard-won gains, prioritizing stability over the radical change we need. We’ve exchanged overt racial oppression for an economic system that perpetuates division, where the wealthiest 10% control 80% of the nation’s riches, and families like mine rely on meager grants to make ends meet. This isn’t the liberation I was born into; it’s a form of neocolonial exploitation masked as progress. Chris Hani, the dedicated MK chief of staff and communist leader assassinated in his prime, spoke directly to this in 1986: “THE IMPERIALISTS HAVE BEEN VERY FAST TO LEARN THAT IT IS NOT THE COLOUR OF THE MAN WHICH IS IMPORTANT BUT THE SORT OF SOCIAL SYSTEM THAT A GIVEN PEOPLE ALSO AFTER INDEPENDENCE [ADOPTS]. IN OTHER WORDS THE QUESTION WHETHER THE MEANS OF PRODUCTION IN A GIVEN COUNTRY THAT IS THE WEALTH, THE MINES, THE FACTORIES, THE LAND BELONG TO THE PEOPLE OR ARE THEY STILL CONTROLLED BY FOREIGNERS, BY THE IMPERIALIST COUNTRIES.”
Hani’s words resonate deeply with me—they remind me of my own frustrations, urging us to reclaim control over our economy and break free from imperialist influences.
