Once again, the powerful of South Africa under President Cyril Ramaphosa seek to gather for their so-called National Dialogue, a polished spectacle where the suits and talking heads claim they can heal a wounded nation through words alone.
Let them talk. Let them sit in their grand halls, trading speeches and promises while the cameras roll.
For the real future of South Africa is not being negotiated in those rooms — it is being built, every single day, by the hands of the downtrodden.
Those who rarely participate in these “dialogues” possess a quiet strength.
While politicians and CEOs debate solutions, it is ordinary women and men — the ones who wake up before dawn to catch taxis or rise even earlier to sell fat cakes at the taxi ranks — who carry the country on their shoulders.
It is the mothers who stretch every rand to feed their families, the fathers who brave dangerous streets to earn an honest living, and the young people who refuse to let unemployment kill their hopes who are the true architects of our tomorrow.
No time to wait for empty promises
In the neighbourhoods where the price of bread rises faster than the sun, where children dream of breakfast as much as they dream of success, it is these South Africans who refuse to be broken.
They share food, stories, laughter, and courage. They build small businesses, help their neighbours, and create opportunity where none exists — not because a dialogue said they should, but because survival and dignity demand it.
The crime, poverty, and violence in these areas are not just statistics; they represent daily battles. But even as the world seems determined to test their limits, ordinary people rise anew with every sunrise.
They do not wait for empty promises from above. They have learnt that change seldom comes as a gift from the powerful; it is carved out, piece by piece, by those who understand the price of hope.
Let the elite hold their dialogues, speak politely about “inclusion”, and draft their compacts. The true inclusivity is found in the streets, in communities where people look out for one another, where women organise and uplift each other, and where the LGBTQI and disabled persist and support each other in the face of erasure.
Poor people not looking for rescue
Here, individuals don’t wait for approval to mend past hurts; instead, they unite and progress together.
For too long, the powerful have tried to convince us that our fate depends on their conversations.
However, the powerless have always understood a deeper truth: a new South Africa emerges through daily acts of kindness, solidarity, hard work, and unwavering hope.
While the headlines fade and grand plans gather dust, the real work of building a better future continues — quietly, stubbornly, and gloriously — where it always has: among the people.
So let them talk. Let them perform. Let them promise. The downtrodden are not waiting for rescue — they are too busy rescuing each other, too busy building something lasting for their children, too busy writing the true story of South Africa’s future.
And one day, when the noise of the powerful has faded, it will be clear whose voices mattered most all along.
