As I took a stroll down memory lane in my community of Kagiso, a township in the west of Johannesburg, I was met with a mix of familiar sights and disturbing realities. My mother's house is located on the main street, providing a perfect vantage point to observe the full landscape of the area.
As I walked down the street, I passed by a bustling scrapyard where dilapidated cars were parked. Young boys, many of whom smoke drugs, frequent this area, pushing heavy-laden trolleys to weigh the materials they've collected (ill-begotten and not) to earn a meagre income to sustain their soul-crushing addiction.
This scene is a stark reminder of the devastating consequences of drug abuse and the lack of opportunities for young people in our communities. It is unacceptable that drug lords operate with impunity, not only destroying the futures of our youth but also contributing to the breakdown of the family system with each life and potential loss.
As I continued my walk, I encountered a large pothole on the road, which drivers seemed to have mastered how to navigate around with ease.
Astonishingly, such hazards are tolerated, especially considering the risks they pose to motor vehicle users and pedestrians alike. I wondered how many local councillors had driven past this street, seemingly oblivious to the dangers it presents.
I want to add that when I embarked on my walk, I had made the conscious pledge to shed any preconceived biases or notions that I had. My sole purpose was to observe my surroundings with an objective eye, taking in the details that often escape me when I’m simply passing through.
My intention was not to criticize or scrutinise, albeit I did encounter many issues that warrant serious attention and are too long to list in one article. Instead, I sought to gain a deeper understanding of our community’s dynamics because I hold the belief that the state of our communities is a direct reflection of the state of our nation.
Now, let’s pivot back to my walk, which also took me past a group of young people gathered at a street corner, an everyday mundane occurrence to pass idle time. Young people should have been at work or school at that time of day.
Young people who should be assimilated and integrated into the economy to contribute positively towards it, and yet so many, no matter which streets you walk into, no matter which township you may enter on any given day, you're bound to come across clusters of them, so full of life and ability and yet, nowhere to go. I worry about how much longer this can be sustained before it erupts into uncontainable civil chaos and anarchy.
I worry about the anger and the fury that simmers beneath the surface and dwells within them, self-medicating on alcohol, which we are merely quantifying as billions worth of revenue to its industry but not interrogating the underlying systemic root causes of why it is that South Africans drink so much. Oh, do cry, my beloved country for your youth.
As I paused to reflect on my observations, I struck up a conversation with two elderly community members. They lamented the growing numbers of unemployed youth and the escalating crime rates, which have forced them to live in fear, locking themselves indoors in their homes for safety. ''We lock ourselves in 24 hours a day.
''We have become prisoners in our own homes.'' Hmmm, what shall we make of this then about our society? Aren't we supposed to be free and empowered people, with the right to safety, movement and assembly enshrined in our Constitution?
This is a rhetorical question that I am posing to our leaders, who often seem detached from the realities of our communities, shielded as they are by boom gates, armed guards and the privilege of blue light convoys. It is thus very clear from my observations from my walk and our stark socio-economic statistics that something has gone wrong.
Despite our democratic gains, we're still grappling with the same systemic issues that have plagued our society for decades.
One of the questions that I grappled with on my walk was, ''How do we quantify human rights in our societies of today, and where is it that one can witness the demonstration of the connection between local government and governance and human rights for our people?''
The local government is the tier of the state that is closest to our communities, one that is supposed to be a representation of the government's meaningful responses to the challenges and basic needs of our people.
Surely, consistent and quality service delivery should not be rocket science thirty years down the line of the dawn of our hard-fought-for democracy. I wonder then too, if Batho PelePrinciples (meaning people first) still ring a bell to anyone serving in our municipalities and other public institutions. I wonder to what extent our public representatives understand the true cost and impact of corruption and poor governance beyond the rands and cents.
The consequences of this are evident in our broken homes, overcrowded prisons, the hopelessness among young people and the growing NEET (Not in Employment, Education and Training) category which has become a damning indictment of our failure to empower young people.
I also wonder equally how it is that anybody survives daily given the current constrained economic environment that we find ourselves in as a nation, with the resultant sky-rocketing cost of living, overly taxed working class and a youth unemployment rate hovering between 60% and 70% (which if you ask me, I believe, is slightly higher than that, but that's a depressing story for another day...or another walk, I guess).
So, as we mark and celebrate Human Rights Month, it’s essential to acknowledge the injustices that perpetuate inequality as well as the indignity that continues to be suffered by the poor.
Therefore, we must come together as active citizens to demand accountability from our leaders and to empower ourselves with the prerequisite civic knowledge to be informed about the processes and systems at our disposal to tackle systemic and social injustice at both the grassroots and national levels.
As I concluded my long walk and boarded a local taxi to head back home, I couldn't help but think about the complexities of our society and the fact that while there are many challenges to overcome, there are also opportunities for growth and renewal.
The question is, “What are we individually and collectively willing and able to do about it?”
* Suping is a sustainable development and governance practitioner with a passion for community and youth development. She is also a staunch champion of the promotion of food security programmes and the integration of young people and women in the Just Transition.