The disillusionment of South Africa's youth: a 31-year reflection on democracy

Youth Month in South Africa prompts a critical examination of the political and economic realities faced by the youth today, highlighting disillusionment, unemployment, and the urgent need for reform writes NIKIEL MOODLEY

YOUTH Month (June) in South Africa, is a time to commemorate the courageous students of 1976 who stood up against an oppressive regime.

Their fight, most vividly captured in the tragic yet galvanising Soweto Uprising, was not just about language policy but about systemic injustice, inequality, and a yearning for dignity and opportunity.

Fast forward to 2025, we are now 31-years into a democratic dispensation.

But the question worth asking is: where are we now - politically and economically as youth of a democratic South Africa? It’s a question that demands uncomfortable honesty.

The political landscape: a crisis of trust

In 1994, political freedom was the defining achievement of our time. Millions queued to vote, inspired by the dream of a Rainbow Nation. Our Constitution became a global model for inclusivity, human rights, and reconciliation.

Yet for many young South Africans born into democracy, often referred to as “born frees”, political promise feels distant, if not broken. Today, young people are disillusioned. Voter turnout among the youth is at record lows, and their distrust in political parties is rising.

The 2024 general election was a historic turning point: the ANC lost its majority for the first time since 1994. This seismic shift was not only a repudiation of poor governance, but a loud cry from a generation that feels ignored, exploited, and left behind. For many young people, politics has become synonymous with corruption, nepotism, service delivery failures, and stagnant promises.

The political space is saturated with recycled rhetoric and aging leadership that fails to represent or understand the modern realities facing youth. We have 20 year olds being governed by 70 year olds who built their political capital in a pre-digital, pre-globalised era. How can we expect policies that reflect innovation, inclusion, and urgency in such a system?

However, this doesn’t mean the youth are apathetic. Quite the opposite. Young people are engaged, just not in the traditional sense. They protest, they mobilise online, they campaign for climate justice, LGBTQIA+ rights, gender equality, and economic reform. But they are not voting in droves because they no longer believe that voting changes anything. That in itself is a dangerous sign of a democracy in decay.

The economic reality: a generation in crisis

If politically we are disillusioned, then economically we are devastated. Youth unemployment is arguably the most pressing issue in post-apartheid South Africa. The expanded definition of youth unemployment places the figure above 60%, an astonishing statistic that points to a national emergency.

Imagine a room of ten young people, and six of them have no formal work. This is not a temporary recession or cyclical downturn, it is a structural crisis. The implications are profound: a generation that cannot find work cannot build wealth, cannot afford housing, cannot support families, and cannot contribute meaningfully to the economy.

The result? Rising dependency on already overburdened family members, growing mental health challenges, and in many cases, migration abroad, the so-called brain drain. Many young South Africans are incredibly talented, educated, and driven. Yet, they are being asked to survive in an economic environment marked by load shedding, rising inflation, deteriorating public services, and an education system that too often fails to equip them for the future of work.

Despite their efforts, they are told to “hustle,” to become entrepreneurs in an economy with little to no access to funding, mentorship, or safety nets. We have created an environment where success is the exception, not the norm.

Youth disengagement or structural exclusion?

One of the most frustrating narratives that gets pushed during Youth Month is that young people are “lazy” or “entitled.” This is not only insulting, it’s false.

The youth of today are more educated than any generation before them, more connected through digital platforms, and more aware of global trends. But opportunity is not a function of willpower alone; it is shaped by access, resources, and systemic support.

When the doors to higher education remain unaffordable, despite #FeesMustFall; when internships are unpaid or only available to the well-connected; when starting a business is tangled in bureaucracy and black economic empowerment policies are manipulated by elites. Then we must ask whether our system is designed for the success of the few, rather than the many.

Where to from here?

So, where are we now, 31 years into democracy? Politically, we are in a state of flux, potentially a rebirth, potentially a regression. Economically, we are standing on shaky ground, with young people bearing the brunt of a system that has failed to evolve fast enough. Yet, despite this bleakness, I remain hopeful.

The youth of this country have not given up. They are building new political movements, creating alternative media, driving social enterprises, and innovating in ways that challenge traditional structures. The rise of youth led civic tech, fintech, and activism shows that we are not idle, we are just not waiting for permission anymore.

However, this hope needs more than words, it needs policy. We need a government that prioritises youth employment, vocational training, digital transformation, and mental health. We need public private partnerships that genuinely invest in young talent, not just through glossy campaigns but through tangible, funded programmes.

We need education reform that starts in primary school and prepares learners not just to pass exams, but to solve problems, think critically, and adapt to change. And we, the youth, must continue holding those in power accountable. We must demand equity, not charity. Representation, not tokenism. Transformation, not slogans.

Youth Month cannot be reduced to hashtags, photo ops, or recycled speeches. It must be a mirror held up to our country’s conscience. We owe it to the brave youth of 1976 and the generations yet to come to ensure that 31 years of democracy means more than just the right to vote. It must mean the right to thrive. Our future is not a privilege. It is a promise. And it’s time we start demanding its fulfilment.

Nikiel Moodley has a BCom in business management and an honours degree in the same field from the University of Pretoria. He is completing a bridging programme to start his postgraduate diploma in accounting, with the goal of beginning his South African Institute of Chartered Accountants articles next year.

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

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