Is South Africa Ignoring Its Youth? Somizi’s Heartbreak Over September 24 March Reveals a Nation on the Brink
Somizi Mhlongo, one of South Africa’s most prominent voices, recently opened up about his heartbreak and frustration over the state of the country’s youth.
His emotional response to the planned September 24 march has resonated deeply, sparking a wave of conversation and debate about the realities facing young South Africans today.
The issues he highlighted—low wages for graduates, lack of opportunities, and government indifference—paint a sobering picture of a generation struggling to find its place in a country that seems to have forgotten them.
Somizi’s words were not just a personal lament but a rallying cry.
He described the pain of seeing young people, even those who have completed university, earning as little as R5000 a month.
With the cost of transport and basic living expenses rising, such a salary barely covers survival, let alone allows for any hope of progress or security.
The question he posed to the government—“Why does a whole graduate earn only R5000?”—echoes the silent anguish of thousands who feel trapped by circumstances beyond their control.
The September 24 march, according to Somizi, is not just another protest. It is a demand for recognition, dignity, and change.
Yet, among the comments and reactions from viewers, there is a palpable sense of skepticism and fatigue. Many are tired of talking, tired of empty promises, and tired of peaceful marches that seem to fall on deaf ears.
“No brutal cruelty was ever changed by peace,” one commenter wrote, suggesting that peaceful demonstrations only highlight problems without forcing those in power to act.
Others questioned the effectiveness of submitting memos and petitions to the very officials responsible for the current state of affairs.
“Where is that memo going to?” one asked. “It’s to the very same people responsible for this action to begin with… they will take it, say a speech nyana, and toss it aside.”
The cynicism is rooted in experience—years of marches, speeches, and promises that have yielded little real change.
Despite the frustration, there are voices urging action—and numbers. “I so wish it really happens, this is overdue. Please, please, they must go in their numbers,” another viewer pleaded.
The reference to Nepal and the historic June 16 youth uprising in South Africa serves as a reminder that change is possible, but only if people are willing to stand together and demand it.
The call is not for violence, but for a demonstration of unity and strength that cannot be ignored.
Underlying all these reactions is a deep sense of betrayal.
The youth feel let down by political parties, especially the ANC, which many believe has lost touch with the realities of ordinary South Africans.
Some lament the lack of viable alternatives, expressing despair at the idea that “there is no other party.”
This political stagnation has left many feeling powerless, unsure where to turn or how to effect meaningful change.
The conversation is not limited to wages and marches. It extends to broader issues of respect, dignity, and hope.
Somizi’s heartbreak is emblematic of a larger crisis—a generation growing up in a country where their potential is stifled, their voices are ignored, and their futures are uncertain.
The march on September 24 is a symbol, but it is also a test: Will South Africa listen? Will those in power respond? Or will this, too, be another moment of hope dashed by indifference?
The reactions from viewers are a microcosm of the national mood. Some are resigned, others angry, and still others determined to push for change.
The debate over peaceful protest versus more forceful action reflects a growing impatience. The youth are no longer content to wait for incremental reforms or empty promises.
They want results, and they want them now.
Somizi’s public heartbreak has forced the country to confront uncomfortable truths. It is no longer enough to talk about the problems; solutions must be found.
The government must address the issue of low wages, create real opportunities for young people, and restore faith in the political process.
The youth must be empowered, not just with jobs, but with a sense of purpose and belonging.
As September 24 approaches, the nation watches and waits.
The outcome of the march will be a measure of South Africa’s willingness to change. It will reveal whether the country is truly ready to confront its challenges and build a future that includes everyone.
For now, the heartbreak continues—but so does the hope. The youth are speaking. The question is, who is listening?
