Is South Africa Making Ignorance Profitable?
As forensic investigators, we’re hardwired to focus on tangible evidence – balance sheets, vendor invoices, and proof of theft. Yet the majority of the systemic problems facing South Africa are not visible on budget reports or financial statements.
They lurk in the shadows, eroding trust, stealing futures and robbing promising individuals – those who have the talent to fix our country – of the will and the energy to do so.
In a recent post that was as brilliant as it was heart-breaking, Seako Masibi, from Mahikeng in the North West Province, wrote, “There comes a time in a nation’s life when even the educated must admit defeat – not because they have failed, but because the system rewards failure.”
This damning statement came after a parliamentary session in which General Nhlanhla Mkhwanazi, the provincial Police Commissioner for KZN, was pictured in what Seako describes as a “dejected pose,” having been forced to answer questions “from a Parliament that confuses noise for intellect.”
General Mkhwanazi has a BTech in Policing, an MBA, an LLB, a National Diploma in Police Administration, and is an admitted attorney of the High Court. He has won widespread admiration for his unafraid and explosive allegations that organised crime groups have penetrated the inner circle of President Cyril Ramaphosa’s administration.
And yet, at the meeting to which Masibi refers, he appeared deflated and defeated, recognising, perhaps, that the system seems too far broken to be fixed by the efforts of just one man – no matter how valiant those efforts may be.
“What we saw in that room was not governance, it was a performance,” said Masibi. “A theatre of mediocrity sponsored by the taxpayer. This is the crisis of Africa – not lack of education, not lack of talent, but the deliberate exclusion of capable minds from positions of influence.
“Political deployment has become the new apartheid — it separates the loyal from the qualified. It replaces thinkers with followers and silences those who still believe in merit.
“In such a country, education no longer inspires. It humiliates.”
I cannot think of a better, more accurate, or indeed more tragic way to describe the current situation in our country.
For years, we’ve believed that education is the solution to most of South Africa’s problems. With an education, you can find employment, earn money, and embrace all the opportunities life offers you.
Our leaders are supposed to act as inspirational models; proof that if you work hard, gain an education, have strong morals and a great work ethic, you’ll be able to help others benefit from the same opportunities that have lifted you up.
Yet the examples some of our country’s leaders are setting do nothing of the sort.
“When young people see that power is gained through party loyalty, not through knowledge, they lose faith in school,” says Masibi. “They drop out, not because they are lazy, but because the system has made ignorance profitable.
“Because the child in the township sees the truth: that the man who reads all the books sits jobless, while the one who shouts the loudest slogan drives a government car.
“How do you convince a young girl in Limpopo to finish matric when she sees her councillor can’t spell ‘governance’ yet controls millions in municipal funds? How do you tell a boy in Mahikeng to study electrical engineering when the tender for electricity is awarded to a DJ?”
These are questions I simply don’t have answers to, and I’m not sure anyone in our country does either.
When your political loyalties, rather than your professional expertise, are the apparent prerequisite for public appointment, the entire machinery of government becomes unreliable and dangerous.
There is a serious design flaw here, and it’s threatening the functioning of the entire machine.
People appointed to positions of authority have a responsibility to the people they serve. Yet we see countless examples where individuals are highly adept at feathering their own nests, but lack the nous and basic skills to perform their duties to the people who put them in power.
What happens when a complex infrastructure tender is signed off by someone without the appropriate skills to identify a lack of competent scope of work, or spot inflated costs and unfeasible timelines?
What happens when an appointed official fails to enforce rigorous good governance or adherence to basic financial protocols, passively permitting fraud because it’s more profitable than fighting for the truth.
And what happens when human intellectual capital is lost? When people with decades of experience and industry skills are humiliated, marginalised or forced to resign because their tendency to uncover wrongdoing renders them a risk to the status quo.
It all creates a vacuum no politically appointed follower can fill.
There is only one solution:
Loyalty to a political party must be replaced with loyalty to national competence. If not, we will continue to mismanage our wealth, export our best talent, and condemn future generations to a system where the only thing a good education helps you do is recognise your own humiliation and despair.
I couldn’t end this article any better than the man who inspired it, Seako Masibi, who said,
“The economy doesn’t collapse because of a lack of minerals or investors. It collapses because of mental poverty – the kind that makes a leader think a slogan can build a road, or that a struggle song can replace sound fiscal management.
“Africa’s tragedy is not that we are poor; it’s that we are mismanaged. It is time to value results over rhetoric, books over boots, and skill over slogans.
“Because when mediocrity governs excellence, poverty becomes permanent.
“So, let the message be clear:
“We will no longer clap for stupidity. We will no longer elect the loudest voice; we will elect the most capable mind.
“We will no longer let our children believe that education is useless. Because the future of Africa depends on the restoration of merit, discipline, and dignity.”