For centuries, black South Africans have fought for dignity, land, and true economic freedom. Yet, even in 2025, we find ourselves at the centre of debates led not by those who have suffered dispossession but by billionaires and foreign politicians who have not experienced our struggles.
Recent commentary by Elon Musk and Donald Trump regarding South Africa’s land issue exposes not just a deep misunderstanding of our history but a dangerous tendency of the West to interfere in our sovereign affairs.
I have firsthand experience of the economic and psychological scars left by land dispossession. The debates around land redistribution are not abstract for people like me, they are deeply personal. It is about correcting historical injustices, reclaiming what was stolen and restoring the dignity of a people who have been oppressed for centuries.
South Africa’s land issue is not just a policy debate, it is a generational wound. Colonisation and apartheid systematically robbed black South Africans of their ancestral land, forcing us into poverty while white minority rule benefited from our labour.
The 1913 Natives Land Act was one of the most devastating blows to us, restricting Africans to only 7% (later expanded to 13%) of the land, despite us being the vast majority of the population.
This was not just economic exclusion it was the foundation of generational poverty.
The dispossession of land went beyond just ownership; it stripped African families of wealth accumulation, agricultural independence and social stability. It forced generations into labour exploitation in mines, factories and white-owned farms while creating massive wealth disparities that still exist today.
The fact that land ownership in South Africa remains overwhelmingly in white hands decades after apartheid ended is a clear indication that reconciliation without economic transformation is meaningless.
Yet, figures like Musk, whose own family benefited from South Africa’s apartheid economy, dismiss these historical injustices as if they are mere numbers on a balance sheet. His statement that “a high price was long since paid” suggests that South Africa’s transition to democracy erased the pain and economic damage inflicted on Africans. It did not.
The negotiated settlement of 1994 ensured a peaceful transition but left economic power structures intact. Africans gained political freedom but remained landless and economically marginalised.
Calls by leaders such Julius Malema for land redistribution without compensation reflect the frustrations of a people who have waited for justice since 1994.
Land is not just about agriculture or housing, it is about power. Economic power cannot be achieved without land reform, and those who oppose it must ask themselves why is it acceptable for white families to inherit stolen land but unacceptable for the state to correct historical injustices.
While Malema’s rhetoric is provocative, it serves as a necessary counterweight to decades of inaction. His is a voice for the dispossessed, a reminder that our struggle is not over.
President Cyril Ramaphosa, on the other hand, has approached land reform with caution, seeking a balanced solution that ensures economic stability while addressing injustice. He is trying to ensure that redistribution does not collapse the agricultural sector while still delivering justice to millions of landless South Africans.
However, this measured approach has frustrated many who believe that incremental change is simply too slow. The patience of the poor is wearing thin, and rightfully so.
It is clear that the West only raises its voice when white interests are at stake. When Trump tweeted in 2018 about the “large-scale killing of farmers” in South Africa, he was perpetuating a myth designed to protect white privilege.
Crime in South Africa affects us all, and farmers, both black and white, face security challenges like we all do. But the attempt to frame white South Africans as victims of genocide is not just misleading; it is dangerous. It fuels international hysteria and reinforces the notion that white lives matter more.
Land reform will not be easy, but it is necessary. The real question is not whether SA should pursue it but how we do so in a way that ensures sustainability, productivity and justice. A successful land reform programme must have three key priorities:
- Justice for the dispossessed: The government must ensure that land is returned to those who have been excluded. This is about economic empowerment in urban and rural spaces.
- Productivity: Redistribution must come with support structures, training and investment in emerging African farmers to ensure food security and economic growth.
- Avoiding corruption and mismanagement: Land reform must not become another vehicle for political elites to enrich themselves. Transparency and fairness are critical.
As a black woman who lived through apartheid, I have seen firsthand what landlessness does to our people. It strips us of opportunity, self-sufficiency and economic independence.
South Africa belongs to its people, and it is our voices that must lead the way. Those who truly care about our country should not fear land reform, they should support it.
