Ironically enough, the EFF disseminates “constitutional optimism” expressly and through actions. I would like to contend that it should not be the case. It is a known fact that the transition to democracy was via a negotiation settlement which ultimately gave birth to the 1996 Constitution. The 1996 Constitution adopted a “supreme” position and makes mention of civil and political rights in its provisions. The very same constitution employs semantics in its provisions to a large extent where human rights are concerned. It is also common knowledge that the law in South Africa bears Eurocentric characteristics, and it is rigid. And every law enacted derives its powers from the constitution, therefore passing down its Eurocentric characteristics as enabling law.

The argument here is that the subjugation of black people in South Africa became law with the adoption or enactment of the 1996 Constitution. The material conditions of ordinary citizens remain unchanged and even worsen ever since. The constitution can be seen as an enabler of subjugation and oppression, and that somehow is glorified by labelling the constitution as one of the best in the world, or that’s how international scholars view it rather. In the same light leadership of the EFF expressly defends the constitution in Parliament and on other given platforms to the extent of labelling those who defy it as “constitutional delinquents”. One would expect a different position from a Pan-Africanist movement that has the interest of black dejected masses at heart, and not the over romanticisation and glorification of a document that seeks to do the opposite.

Constitutional optimism is problematic in nature, in that it takes a blind approach to issues and seemingly the enforcers of this school of thought find nothing wrong with the constitution and actively defend it in its entirety. Constitutional optimists pervasively contribute to the illusionary “post-Apartheid” notion that seeks to suggest equality and unity in South Africa currently, seeing that this is precisely the argument employed by those who try to convince us that the constitution brought about the end of Apartheid South Africa. Constitutional optimism is a façade that thrives on the lives of ordinary citizens, it is dangerous and should be seen as such.

It can be argued that the CODESA negotiations misrepresented ordinary South Africans and did not take any mandate from the masses. Those who claim to have negotiated the freedom of black people are not telling the truth, because nothing has changed up until this day, political freedom however was attained but it came at a compromise; indebted loyalty to the ANC. Further, for the ANC it was never about the end of Apartheid South Africa, but to get an invite to join the oppressors’ dinner table, and it did precisely that. The ANC adopted the notion of “not all white people are bad” and continuously express this notion in the everyday parlance and practice. Other than that, the material conditions of black people remain the same, black people remain landless, and the subjugation of black people continues.

At the core of the 1996 Constitution is “Constitutional supremacy” therefore, any law or conduct not in line with it is invalid. It means that any law enacted must conform to the constitution in its Eurocentric form. Even something as African as customary law is subject to the constitution for its validity. It also harbours legal formalism, therefore implying civilisation through a white man’s eyes. The codification of customary law as official customary brought about serious anomaly where traditional customs and usages are concerned. Some customary law scholars argue that official customary is an extension of colonialism of which I concur on the basis that the colonisers codified customary law for their own convenience and purposely misconstrued and misinterpreted customary law in its enactment. I then contend that something as African cannot be subject to the constitution.  

One of the eccentric characteristics of the constitution is its overemployment of semantics where human rights are concerned. In section 26 for example it makes mention that “everyone has the right to have access to adequate housing”, the emphasis for the purposes of this article is on “access to adequate” therefore leaving it up to the administrators to decide what adequate housing entails and who may have access to housing, another dream sold to ordinary South Africans. Section 27 employs the same language, “. . . access to”, and many other sections continue to do so. It appears that the constitution acknowledges all basic human rights, but fails to enforce it to the extend so required. It is selective in its enforcement of some basic human rights and leaves a huge aspect thereof for the administrators to decide, and we’ve seen over the past 25 years how little has been done by those with such authority.

Ultimately, the 1996 Constitution does not speak to and about the people it governs. In this regard Professor Tshepo Madlingozi (2019) argues that the holistic project of decolonisation cannot be achieved within the framework of the current constitution. Rather, what is needed is an all-inclusive process of constitution-making aimed at replacing the current Constitution with a ‘post-conquest constitution’. He further argues that a Post-Conquest Constitution would lay a framework for dealing with the unfinished business of decolonisation.

In totality the constitution did not capture the lived experiences of the people it governs properly and continues to spread a false narrative of “Rainbownationalism”. The people need to be part of an all-inclusive process of constitution-making that would ultimately give birth to a post-conquest constitution. I further call upon the EFF leadership to collectively consider alternative constitutional school of thoughts, like constitutional skeptism and constitutional abolitionism. It is Professor Madlingozi who argues that if the EFF is serious about decolonising South Africa, it would have to push for a post-conquest constitution that would lay a framework for a post-segregationist society based on African humanness. What is needed is a new inclusive constitution-making process that will come up such a post-conquest constitution. I would like to contend that the EFF should push for a revolutionary constitutional reform.

Gugulethu by Prince Kaybee, a recent hit that has taken the South African youth to the streets celebrating, beaming with pride and admiration one of the most notorious Townships in the Cape. The purpose of this piece is to evoke a debate concerning the impact and role of townships in South Africa today.

The history and formation of townships across the country have a more or less similar narrative. Townships are a living, breathing consequence and evidence of the 1950’s Apartheid’s Group Areas Act forced removals. They remain to serve as a permanent architecture of the Apartheid legacy. In contrast, the Townships have over the years proven themselves as a tool of resilience against dilution and discarding of the South African Black identity. Not only serving as a mere residential area, but an identity and welcoming safe space for the black masses, phantsi komthunzi we’langa you will find young black bodies enjoying a kota and being at peace with themselves.

The Kota pleis has found itself to be a home to multiple well- known artists, leaders and influencers who all appreciate much of their success to township upbringing. It was in eKasi where an identity of izikhothane was found, it is in ekasi where the formation of the now hit making Amapiano genre started. Kasi has established itself as the hub for black centralism. From kasi food, loksion culture, and kasi Taal.

However, iKasi harbours the true trauma of being black and poor in South Africa. With high unemployment rates, high criminal activity stats and low income earnings, lack of sustainable service delivery, high substance abuse and the list goes on. How do we find ourselves continuously romanticizing and embracing our own poverty? The narrative to develop ikasi to more suburban standards is one that sounds more attractive. In this scenario, ikasi adopts the culture of suburban areas. Developing ikasi seeks to create better infrastructure, better service delivery and more employment opportunities in townships. This first scenario seeks for slow, steady progress development, it buys into the ideology of transformation whilst keeping the essence and identity of townships.

The second scenario seeks for a more urgent and radical approach. Considering the much inhumane sufferings and brutal livelihood black people have endured in townships, it calls for the demolishing of townships. This narrative seeks to disband townships in an attempt to shift the economy focus away from city life and back to villages. This requires a mass Urban to Rural trek, back to the Bundu’s for a lack of better words. This is not to suggest that such migrations need to be forceful or a form of depriving black people of access to the already set-up metropolis varying from the City of Gold to the Mother City. But rather a suggestion that for the black nation to attain substantive economic freedom in our lifetime charity needs to begin at home.

The idea that vast unused land, potential for growth and economic development in provinces of Limpopo, KZN and EC, to name a few, lies wasted and unoccupied. This is not to narrowly venture homelands as farmlands solely. Instead, homelands as scattered Metropolis in their own respective rights.

Placed right next to each other, both ideas seem attractive and respectively ideal. But both have their own downfalls. Take for example the development of Townships, this narrative comes with the suggestion of losing kasi culture, less Kota pleis, more restrictive by-laws and patrolling. No more vibrant ‘labantwana bama uber’ banging in the late hours of the morning from the closest kwa-Joe’s. Losing the freedom of being black in a black environment. Developing kasi to suburban standard will ultimately outgrow the black kasi identity and resilience that we have built. So weighing the battle between losing our black kasi identity versus the Romantics of poverty.

A third approach ventures in the direction of a common ground and intermix of the two narratives: Demolishing of townships and instead of migration to the Rurals, an integration to already established metropolis. This idea serves to be both Radical in removing the harbouring of poverty in townships at the same time an integration of the black mass community into the current Metropolis economy.

This piece hopes to expand the role of the Students’ Command outside institutions of higher learning. To highlight the need for the organization to take a more active stance in the influence, role and impact of townships in the Education system. Steering the wheel, changing directions and taking Education, superior logic to the Kota pleis.