Price of Freddo increases yet again as popular chocolate suffers shrinkflation

Freddo chocolate bars
Freddos have not cost 10p for 20 years (Picture: PA)

In the history of Cadbury’s Chocolate, the price of one item has come under the spotlight more than any other.

Once just 10p, a Freddo can nowadays set you back 30p or more.

The humble frog-shaped chocolate bar has been hit by another price change – this time to its multipacks.

Cadbury Dairy Milk has reduced its multipack by 20%, while the shelf price has stayed the same.

The Freddo 5x18g and Freddo Caramel 5×19.5g packs have now been replaced by 4x18g and 4×19.5g packs respectively, according to The Grocer.

But the price remains the same, at £1.40 each.

Freddo 5 pack
BEFORE – The old Freddo 5 pack is off the shelves in Tesco (Picture: Freddo)

The change has been noted at Tesco, where the five packs disappeared earlier this month, only to reappear as four packs.

Morrisons are selling the old five packs and new four packs, both at £1.40.

Sainsbury’s are still flogging the old multipacks while they are out of stock in Asda.

Cadbury’s owner Mondelez confirmed the weight of the multipacks has taken a hit due to ‘significant higher input costs’.

In a statement to The Grocer, they said the cost of crucial ingredients such as cocoa and dairy had gone up considerably.

They added: ‘Meanwhile, other costs like energy and transport, also remain high.

‘This means that our products continue to be much more expensive to make and while we have absorbed these costs where possible, we still face considerable challenges.

Freddo 4 pack
AFTER – the Freddo 4 pack is still £1.40 (Picture: Freddo)

‘As a result of this difficult environment, we have had to make the decision to slightly reduce the weight of our Cadbury Dairy Milk Freddo multipacks so that we can continue to provide consumers with the brands they love, without compromising on the great taste and quality they expect.’

Cadbury has made similar changes to other multipacks.

In March, Twirl packs shrunk from 10×21.5g a piece to 9×21.5g.

Did you know…

A supermarket chocolate shelf
Cadbury have launched a big change to their multipacks for one favourite item (Picture: Shutterstock / Nigel J. Harris)

The Freddo bar was actually first invented and sold by MacRobertson’s, an Australian confectionery company. It was desinged in 1930 by an 18-year-old named Harry Melbourne, and it was sold as part of the children’s range.

Freddo frogs came in four varities back then, milk chocolate, white chocolate, half milk and half white chocolate, and milk chocolate with peanuts.

The frog-shaped chocolate bar became part of the Cadbury range in 1967 when Cadbury bought MacRobertson’s.

However, the chocolate treat didn’t launch in the UK until 1973. They were sold for a few years before production was stopped in 1979.

15 years later, in 1994, Freddo made its return to shops, and a caramel-filled version known as Taz, was also launched at the same time.

In the 90s Freddo bars were sold for 10p and this price remained in place until 2005 when it started to increase.

While Freddo price have been going up and up and up – at roughly 2p a year – they do sometimes come back down.

Sainsbury’s lowered the price of the frog back down to 10p for Nectar customers to celebrate Cadbury’s 200th anniversary.

The supermarket chain typically sells a Freddo for 40p, whereas Tesco sells stand alone Freddo’s for 30p.

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Floyd Shivambu’s redeployment from the position of secretary general of the uMkhonto weSizwe (MK) party to a seat in parliament is not simply a procedural shift. It is a symbolic moment that pulls back the curtain on the inner workings of a party still constructing its identity — and, more crucially, its power logic. 

What this moment makes increasingly difficult to ignore is that the party’s internal architecture does not yet rest on collective governance or principled leadership. It rests, quite plainly, on proximity. Proximity to the president general. Proximity to Jacob Zuma. 

Whether framed as discipline or realignment, Shivambu’s redeployment — following a controversial trip to visit the self-proclaimed prophet, Shepherd Bushiri, who fled to his home country while out on bail for charges including fraud and rape — confirms a pattern we’ve seen brewing.

In the MK party, political power is often determined not by mandate or merit, but by access. It is not a political machine with autonomous moving parts, but a gravitational field orbiting one figure. 

And this is not said to villainise the party. If anything, it emerged precisely because its founders felt other formations had drifted too far from accountability, too far from the masses, too far from the revolutionary ethics they once claimed to embody. The MK party was meant to offer something different. Perhaps even something radical. 

But this is where it gets complicated. If difference is defined by unwavering loyalty to one individual — regardless of title or structure — then how different is it really? 

Shivambu’s reassignment, reportedly justified by a clause in the party’s constitution prohibiting international engagements that conflict with the party line, might appear procedurally sound. However, political observers can’t help but note the speed and decisiveness with which this rule was invoked — and for this individual. It’s not the rule itself that tells the story. It’s when and for whom the rule is enforced. 

We are seeing a party where key positions — secretary general, spokesperson, even senior deployees — do not enjoy stable mandates. They exist at the mercy of internal currents, shifting alliances and, perhaps most significantly, Zuma’s confidence. Today you are central. Tomorrow, the centre moves without you. 

And this is precisely the problem with proximity politics: it is inherently fragile.

When power flows through informal networks and personal bonds, it becomes difficult to institutionalise accountability, manage internal dissent and ensure consistent policy direction. You can be right and still be removed. You can be effective and still be sidelined. Because the metric is not effectiveness — it’s alignment. 

This is why Shivambu’s removal matters beyond his person. It points to a deeper reality in the MK party — that its centre of gravity is not ideological coherence or organisational structure. It is one man. And that has consequences. 

This is not a judgment about Zuma as an individual. It is a political concern about what happens when the centre cannot hold. 

The MK party’s biggest challenge is not winning court cases or keeping its logo. It’s this: how does a party that centralises so much power in one figure imagine itself beyond that figure? 

Because proximity works — for a while. It works when the central figure is present, powerful, active. But what happens when the centre can no longer hold? When the ear you once spoke into is no longer there? Zuma is not a young man, and history is filled with movements that could not survive their founders.

If the MK party is to truly become the political home for a return to revolutionary ethics, then it must ask itself: can it build a structure that outlives proximity? 

That is the real revolutionary task. Not merely to rally around the centre but to prepare for its eventual absence.

Thando Mzimela-Ntuli is the president of the National Executive Economic Collective.

Tanzania has made great progress in saving the lives of mothers. In just seven years, the country’s maternal mortality rate has been reduced by more than 80% — from 556 deaths per 100,000 live births in 2016 down to 104 in 2022. 

This is not only a national achievement; it is a model for Africa, and a signal to the world that change is possible and long overdue.

At the 78th World Health Assembly, which concluded earlier this week, health officials and world leaders stated that “many countries are off track to meet key maternal and child health targets by 2030”. Specifically, to reduce maternal mortality worldwide to fewer than 70 deaths per 100,000 live births by 2030. That goal is still achievable. But only if we move from words to action.

When the Jiongeze Tuwavushe Salama campaign was launched in November 2018 (which contextually translates to “be accountable to ensure safe motherhood”), a national call for action to protect the lives of women and children was made. Government leaders, religious institutions, civil society, international partners and communities were mobilised to treat every maternal death as a collective failure. Today, lives are being saved not just with bricks and mortar, but with commitment and accountability.

Access to Comprehensive Emergency Obstetric and Newborn Care (CEmONC) has been expanded by increasing facilities from just 115 to over 566, ensuring that more than 90% of Tanzanians live within five kilometers of a health facility. The referral system has been significantly strengthened through technology-driven initiatives such as the m-mama emergency transportation programme and the Safer Births Bundle of Care (SBBC). 

In recent years, more than 20,000 new health professionals have been employed and health facilities have been equipped with ambulances and digital innovations, including artificial intelligence-supported maternal death reviews and real-time telemedicine solutions. These innovations, from WhatsApp triage groups to Project ECHO’s virtual consultations, have already saved hundreds of women’s lives.

But the foundation of this success has not been technology alone, it has been political will. Maternal health has been prioritised in every national development plan. Work with international partners, including the World Health Organisation, the United Nations Population Fund, the World Bank, USAid and the Vodafone Foundation has secured more than $200 million in targeted maternal and newborn health investments. These efforts are not one-off projects – they are part of a systemic change.

Other African countries are taking note. Earlier this year, Tanzania hosted delegates from 16 nations under the Africa Centre for Disease Control and Prevention to study the country’s approach. Through the Collaborative Advocacy Action Plan launched with the Partnership for Maternal, Newborn & Child Health, Tanzania is helping others localise and scale its model.

Yet more must be done, and fast. Across sub-Saharan Africa, maternal deaths remain common. Many women still give birth too far from help, without skilled care and without access to basic medicines or transport. These are solvable problems.

As we look toward 2030, I call on fellow leaders to prioritise women’s health not as a statistic to improve, but as a moral imperative. Adopt national campaigns that place maternal mortality at the heart of health reform. Invest in infrastructure, workforce and digital solutions that work for people, not just institutions. Share knowledge. Measure outcomes. And above all, treat every maternal death as an unacceptable loss.

Tanzania stands ready to support those ready to act. It can offer technical assistance and the insights gathered. Together, we can ensure that no woman dies while giving life in Africa and anywhere in the world. 

Dr Samia Suluhu Hassan is the President of Tanzania.

The Oval Office encounter between South African President Cyril Ramaphosa and US President Donald Trump was no ordinary diplomatic engagement. It was a geopolitical theatre — a collision of clashing narratives, one anchored in misinformation, the other focused on sustaining economic opportunities. 

Yet beneath the theatrics lay deep tectonic shifts in the global order. If we reframe from spectacle to substance, this moment is not an anomaly, but a strong signal of change. Like a clarion call for transforming not just a bilateral relationship, but the paradigms that govern diplomacy in a fractured world.

The spectacle and the system

President Trump’s invocation of the “white genocide” and “land expropriation” myths, conspiracy theories rooted in post-apartheid disinformation, transformed the Oval Office into a theatre of post-truth politics.

In stark contrast, President Ramaphosa anchored his response in evidence and historical nuance. Yet, he was flanked by elites representing a narrow, privileged slice of South African society, many of whom continue to benefit from both apartheid-era structures and the post-1994 democratic order. Ironically, their presence inadvertently bolstered Trump’s narrative, leaving Ramaphosa politically and rhetorically isolated. The dissonance in perspectives, most of which were tangential to the pressing structural issues, laid bare a deeper epistemic fault line in international diplomacy. 

A few days later, this collision of spectacle and geopolitics became more visible, more public and more fraught, as Elon Musk, a South African-born billionaire, reportedly exerted influence over South Africa’s domestic ownership laws. His push to secure a license to operate Starlink by pressuring the government to grant regulatory exceptions underscores a troubling shift — diplomacy that privileges corporate leverage over principles of mutual respect, equity and visionary pragmatism. 

These events expose a critical question — will global relations continue to be shaped by the ideological distortions of dominant powers or can emerging middle powers like South Africa assert a sovereign, historically grounded and futures-oriented voice in shaping global narratives? 

But to fixate solely on the leaders’ exchange is to miss the forest for the trees. This encounter should be situated within four converging systemic dynamics:

  1. Weaponised misinformation: The Oval Office moment reflected a global trend in which misinformation becomes diplomatic currency, supplanting evidence-based policymaking with political spectacle.
  2. Colonial afterlives: Trump’s selective empathy for lower-middle-class white South Africans, while erasing the structural violence of apartheid and ongoing economic inequality, mirrored America’s own unfinished racial reckoning. Both nations remain haunted by colonial legacies that continue to shape contemporary power dynamics. 
  3. Land reform in South Africa: It is central to addressing the enduring legacies of apartheid and colonial dispossession. The government’s approach, as embedded in South Africa’s Constitution and operationalised through the Expropriation Act 13 of 2024 and related legislation, collectively guides the country’s efforts to balance restorative justice with economic pragmatism. Despite these efforts, progress has been modest; only 9% to 11% of commercial farmland has been transferred to beneficiaries under land reform initiatives. This falls short of the 30% target originally set in 1999. While land reform has the potential to benefit millions, the economic transformation has often failed to materialise.

The manipulation of public discourse through misinformation further constrains the potential of land reform to serve as a vehicle for equitable economic empowerment.

  1. Geopolitical realignment: As the US recedes into transactional nationalism, South Africa is recalibrating its alliances, deepening its ties with Brics and the Global South. The Oval Office tension is not merely interpersonal; it is symptomatic of a world undergoing seismic geopolitical reordering.

Creating pathways out of tension

Futures thinking compels us to move beyond linear forecasting toward systemic foresight. How might South Africa and the US transform this tension into opportunity? Rather than reverting to business-as-usual diplomacy, this is a chance to craft pathways — not just to each other, but to the systemic crises unfolding across climate change, technology access, energy transitions and legitimacy:

  1. Institutionalise reparative diplomacy: South Africa should move beyond extractive and exploitative trade arrangements, such as exporting unprocessed critical minerals to the US, which disproportionately fuels US industrialisation, towards reparative partnerships grounded in mutual benefit, innovation and structural equity. This shift calls for a resource leverage strategy that foregrounds self-reliant negotiation approaches and prioritises joint investment initiatives. Such initiatives should facilitate technology transfer, build local capacity and advance shared economic objectives. 

A reparative framework would also support greater symmetry in global power relations. South Africa’s exports of critical minerals enable the US to secure its supply chains for strategic sectors, including artificial intelligence and military technologies. These partnerships must, however, also foreground South Africa’s economic development priorities. At their core, they should promote domestic mineral beneficiation and intra-African value-chain development, imperatives to reducing dependency and advancing economic sovereignty.

  1. Defend transparent land reform: The South African government’s land reform programme should continue evolving with clear legal frameworks, such as the Expropriation Act, ensuring fairness and promoting inclusive economic development. 

Redistributing land is only the first step; beneficiaries need title deeds, financial, technical and infrastructural support to make land productive and sustainable while reassuring investors that land reform will not undermine agricultural productivity or economic stability. 

Crucially, unutilised state and rural land under the jurisdiction of traditional authorities should be integrated into a broader national strategy. Land reform and economic development are not mutually exclusive but mutually reinforcing. 

  1. Embrace post-Western multilateralism: The US should engage South Africa not as a subordinate but as a co-architect of new governance frameworks, particularly in frontier arenas such as AI ethics, climate and trade diplomacy and global financial architecture reform. 

Equally, South Africa should guard against surrendering its agency to a declining hegemon operating through outdated diplomatic paradigms. A truly post-Western multilateralism requires that all governments adapt and engage as equals in shaping more just and future-fit international systems.

A call for courage and imagination

The Oval Office confrontation was not merely a diplomatic rupture; it was a symptom of decaying systems and a crucible of possibility. Futures thinking reminds us that crises are not endpoints, but inflexion points. Here, futures studies are defined as a systematic, transdisciplinary approach to exploring, anticipating and shaping more favourable outcomes by embracing complexity and a plurality of possible trajectories. 

The South African government’s subsequent accommodation of Starlink is not a mere regulatory decision but a reflection of deeper societal struggles over sovereignty, equity and visions of the future. It sets a troubling precedent where corporate interests can bypass democratic processes — a form of regulatory state capture dressed as innovation. 

Retrofitting established policy frameworks to accommodate Musk sets the stage for a global order where misinformation thrives, alliances fracture and diplomacy is reduced to viral spectacle. But this future is not inevitable. It is a choice.

The central question shaping South Africa-US relations is no longer merely whether the two nations can afford to collaborate. Rather, it is how South Africa can most effectively navigate a shifting geopolitical landscape, one increasingly defined not by binary choices, but by the rise of multipolarity, multi-alignment and strategic autonomy.

As US diplomacy contends with internal challenges and fluctuating global influence, countries like South Africa and others are exploring other partnerships, such as Brics, opening a spectrum of diplomatic possibilities. These range from deepening ties with the US to expanding South–South cooperation through Brics, to crafting a nuanced foreign policy that engages multiple partners without becoming beholden to any single bloc.

A sovereign-respecting relationship between South Africa and the US would depart from the legacy of asymmetrical engagement. Instead, it would reflect the emergence of a multipolar global order in which both countries act as autonomous agents defined not by subordination or rivalry, but by mutual respect, flexible cooperation and a recognition of shared and divergent interests alike.

To thrive in an increasingly multipolar global economy, South Africa cannot afford isolation. It needs a diverse portfolio of allies and partnerships. The challenge now is whether Ramaphosa will pivot to the gravitational pull of Trump-era theatrics and Musk’s techno-capitalist demands or whether he can seize this moment to reset the terms of engagement with the US on the foundations of sovereignty, foresight and shared prosperity.

Letitia Jentel is the senior programme manager and researcher with the Futures programme at the South African Institute of International Affairs, an independent public policy think tank.

In this series on Zambia, Part II looks at legalising the use of public resources for election campaigns. (Part 1 here)

The second benefit that Zambia’s President Hakainde Hichilema seeks to achieve through Bill 7 is getting members of parliament to campaign for his re-election and their own using public resources. The president hopes to achieve this objective by changing how the dissolution of parliament works before the general election. 

Article 81 (3) of Zambia’s constitution states that, “Parliament shall stand dissolved ninety days before the holding of the next general election.” The three months that precede the election serve as the designated period for official nominations and campaigns. 

Once parliament is dissolved by operation of law, MPs are no longer MPs and lose access to all the benefits that come with the office. Currently, these include a monthly net salary amounting to 60 000 kwacha (R41 000), a $80 000 (R1.5 million) interest-free car loan, and a truckload of allowances that cover their work-related costs such as travel, food, accommodation, sittings and constituency-level staffing. 

Dissolving parliament long before the election is important to the democratic process for two reasons. 

First, it allows those who were MPs before dissolution to focus on political campaigning instead of being encumbered by parliamentary business. Second, it prevents MPs from using public funds and other resources for partisan activities to the disadvantage of their opponents. Altogether, this creates a level playing field during the campaigns and contributes to the overall integrity of the elections. 

Through Bill 7, Hichilema is proposing two amendments to the provisions governing dissolution. 

The first proposal is to amend article 81 (3) to read: “Parliament shall stand dissolved a day preceding the date of the next general election.” The official justification is that this change would ensure that the term of office for MPs is strictly five years, as opposed to the current situation where it falls short by three months. 

The second proposal is to make MPs retain their position for this additional three-month period but without any official work: “Notwithstanding clause 3, Parliament shall not sit or conduct any business ninety days before the holding of the next general election.” 

In making these two proposals, Hichilema has three objectives. 

The primary objective is to entice all MPs to support the passage of Bill 7 by dangling a carrot in front of them. If there is anything that Hichilema learnt from his predecessor’s failure to pass Bill 10 in 2020, it is that no matter what the public or civil society says in opposition to an incumbent president’s plans on the subject, constitutional amendment bills are won or lost in parliament. 

This lesson explains why Hichilema could not embark on these constitutional changes much earlier in his term — he first needed to raise the two-majority support that is required to pass them. In furtherance of this objective, Hichilema worked with his loyalists in state institutions such as the police, the judiciary, the Electoral Commission of Zambia and the Registrar of Societies to: 

  1. Hijack and take control of the opposition Patriotic Front (PF) by installing a state-backed faction as the party’s leadership whose very first action was to expel nine PF MPs in an attempt to force a series of by-elections;
  2. Delay the resolution of the resultant PF leadership wrangles using regime-friendly judges
  3. Induce vacancies in several constituencies by using the police to arrest incumbent MPs on what appears to be politically motivated charges and getting regime-friendly magistrates to convict them, often after speedy trials or unusual judicial efficiency; 
  4. Prevent the main opposition party from sponsoring candidates in the ensuing parliamentary by-elections either by manipulating the judicial process or using the Electoral Commission of Zambia and the Registrar of Societies on the grounds that the party first needed to resolve its factional battles; and
  5. Use incumbency advantage and vote buying to win. 

Combined, these legal manoeuvres have enabled the ruling United Party for National Development (UPND) to easily secure new four parliamentary seats in five of the seven constituencies that have held, or are about to hold, by-elections since 2022. The opposition has retained one seat while the remaining two by-elections are slated for 26 June and 7 August 2025. 

This abbreviated history of Hichilema’s political schemes provides the clearest evidence that the president knew earlier that he would take self-serving and personally-driven amendments to the Constitution to parliament, rather than implementing his party’s 2021 manifesto that promised to “complete the constitutional reform agenda, anchored on a broad-based consensus among all Zambians”. 

Hichilema’s hope is that the UPND will win the forthcoming by-elections before Bill 7 is tabled in parliament to reduce by one or two the number of MPs whom the ruling party might need to bribe to pass the dire constitutional changes.  

In the meantime, however, the president is offering a more transparent form of bribery that he hopes will appeal to all MPs — a promise to extend their tenure by three months, as many of them have long demanded. Delaying the dissolution of parliament to 24 hours before the general election would allow MPs to retain their existing lucrative remuneration — an inducement that greatly increases their chances of supporting Bill 7. 

The second objective is to enable MPs to campaign for their own re-election using public resources. Campaign finance is ordinarily difficult to raise in Zambia, making attractive any interventions that would help deflate the cost of politics

Moreover, MPs receive constant requests for financial support from their constituents and are required to make monthly financial contributions to their political parties for by-election and day-to-day operational expenses. Allowing them to draw salaries for three months, even when they will be doing no official work, will significantly contribute to their war chest. In effect, this means MPs will be funded by taxpayers to carry out their political campaigns — another incentive for getting them to vote for Hichilema’s proposed constitutional amendments.  

The third objective is enabling MPs to campaign for Hichilema using public funds drawn from the free salaries and the consequent increase in their pensions. Currently, lawmakers receive about 3 million kwacha (the equivalent of $110 000) as payment for gratuity in respect of their parliamentary service. Extending the life of parliament for three months would result in an upward adjustment of this amount, making available additional funds that can support their own — and, for ruling party MPs, Hichilema’s — re-election campaigns. 

Altogether, the proposed changes would encourage electoral fraud, corruption and unfair practices during campaigns and gravely undermine democratic principles such as a level playing field. For instance, challengers, often lacking financial resources, would find it difficult to unseat incumbent MPs with deeper pockets and who would this time also enjoy the support of official staff in the constituency. 

Furthermore, the proposals are likely to work to the advantage of the UPND because candidates belonging to parties in government generally find it much easier to attract external financing or resources from “well-wishers” than candidates of other parties whose campaign budgets are usually drawn from personal resources. 

Sishuwa Sishuwa is a senior lecturer in the department of history at Stellenbosch University.

I decided to rewatch the movie Gangster’s Paradise: Jerusalema. Besides being an excellent film directed by Ralph Ziman, I started examining the fictional protagonist Lucky Kunene.

He is a symbol of struggle and represents individuals who were involved with the hijacking of buildings in Jozi’s suburb of Hillbrow during the 1990s. The character Lucky is not a real person, but the movie is based on real-life events, and it got me thinking.

How much has changed since then?

Well, basically nothing. In fact, I think the situation has worsened. I was in the Johannesburg city centre the other day, and the decay is nothing short of a tragedy. Looking across the once-iconic skyline that was home to some of the tallest buildings in Africa, it’s hard to digest what has happened to the City of Gold.

At about the time of Lucky’s rhetorical escapade in 1990, Ponte City was hijacked. Then, in 2021, they officially declared the building to be Africa’s first-ever vertical slum.

Riddled with lawlessness and gangsterism, it was home to 8000 people, which is way past the legal occupancy rate for this building. Water and electricity were cut off from the building, and people threw so much trash into the centre of the building that it built up 14 storeys high. In later years, when the trash was finally cleaned up, they found 23 bodies. 

That’s a pretty big fall from grace considering Ponte was once the tallest building in Africa for 48 years straight, measuring 172m in height. It was beaten by a skyscraper in Egypt — only 5m taller.

Someone suggested that Ponte City be converted into the world’s first vertical prison. From a design perspective, this might not have been a bad idea for the building itself. But, from a surroundings perspective, a building with such a prominent location surrounded by corporations, bank headquarters and schools was probably not a good match. 

I took a tour of Ponte City and according to the tour guide, who lives in Ponte, there are seven hijacked buildings and nine abandoned buildings in the suburb of Berea, where Ponte City is located.

According to reports over the years, 643 buildings have been hijacked in Johannesburg, specifically in the Hillbrow, Yeoville, Berea and Joubert Park areas. More recent estimates have stated that this number has grown to more than 1100 buildings. 

When a building is hijacked, it means that the building has been occupied without permission. The owners of the building, or its managing agents, no longer have control over the property. How does this happen? The owners of the buildings cannot be traced. They die, move overseas, or no longer pay the costs of maintaining their assets.

Water and electricity are often cut off by the city, and there are zero sewerage services. These buildings then become unsanitary and dangerous places to live.

All the while, criminals force the tenants to pay rent to them and not to the owners of the building.

The hijacking of buildings is a symptom of seriously deep-seated social problems in our society. 

The government’s way of dealing with the hijacked-building crisis reminds me of my favourite South African term “now now” — which could mean they will start dealing with the issue in the next five minutes, five months or five years. The range is what you dream of with no concrete solutions in place or a timeline to make those dreams a reality. And so the solution to the abandoned building problem remains precisely that, a dream without a plan of action.

Many of these buildings are owned by the government. How can our own government no implement its policies and reclaim what is rightfully theirs? Ironically, they love to pass policies, but what about when it comes to implementing them? 

People are dying in these buildings, and the solution is in limbo.

Remember the story about the five-storey building at 80 Albert Street, Marshalltown in Johannesburg city centre that caught on fire on 31 August 2023? 

The building was constructed in 1954 during apartheid and served as the main administration office for Johannesburg’s non-European affairs department. People of colour would essentially collect their “dompas” here. Later on, it transformed into the Usindiso Women’s Shelter until its neglect by the City of Johannesburg, the Socio-economic Rights Institute said in a statement at the time. 

By 2019, more than 400 individuals occupied this property. The emergency exits were all locked or blocked at the time of the fire, in which 77 people died and 88 were injured.

More recently, I have read that our current Johannesburg mayor, Dada Morero, plans to relocate his office from Braamfontein to this building. Renovations of the building are expected to be completed this year.

If our government cannot uphold standard occupancy levels and fire regulations in their buildings, how can we expect other landlords to follow suit? 

Herman Mashaba, one of the um-teenth mayors of Johannesburg over the past decade, floated around some good suggestions once upon a time. He proposed the conversion of dozens of hijacked buildings, abandoned and government-owned buildings into social housing projects. He brought to the table ideas for incentives such as providing investors with rates and tax exemptions for the period of one year if they could include an affordable housing component in their development. This was not necessarily a bad start as far as solutions go. However, I don’t recall any of the above happening during or after Mashaba’s tenure.

When Mashaba left his mayoral position in 2019, the City of Johannesburg passed an Inclusionary Housing Policy at the same time to encourage private companies to build social housing in the Johannesburg city centre. More specifically, it provides incentives for buildings with 20 units or more to allocate 30% of their units for low-income housing. Many agreed with the principle, while others were strong critics of the plan’s practicality.  

The sad truth is that when we fast-forward to 2025, I don’t know of many projects that have actually implemented the Inclusionary Housing Policy to obtain its incentives. Sure, there have been approvals of a couple thousand inclusionary housing units since the policy’s implementation; however, not many that I know of have been constructed. It seems the policy was not so attractive for developers after all. 

And so here we are, it’s 2025, and not much has changed. We’re still having the same conversations. Still walking past the same burnt-out and hijacked buildings. Still holding the same memorials for lives lost in preventable tragedies. Still hearing the same political promises that come wrapped in red tape and delay.

What’s most maddening is that the solution is right in front of us, and has been for years. We have the buildings. Hundreds of them. Some of the most well-located buildings in the country, in a city built on gold and ambition. But instead of being used as catalysts for urban rejuvenation, social housing, and economic upliftment, they sit empty, hijacked, or decaying, becoming ticking time bombs.

Not to mention that building costs are through the roof (excuse the pun). Rebuilding any of these buildings today would run into the billions. Sometimes conversions can be a cost-saving exercise in themselves.

Johannesburg’s current mayor, Dada Morero, has recently discussed the city’s plans to intensify efforts to reclaim the city centre and address issues related to crime and deteriorating infrastructure. I have also read that Morero plans to relocate his office from Braamfontein to 80 Albert Street. Renovations of the building, which were initiated after the fire, are expected to be completed this year.

Late last year, Morero announced that these problems would be addressed precinct by precinct.

Morero says fewer than 50 hijacked buildings in the city belong to the government. He also mentions that the city cannot find the owners of about 100 hijacked buildings. He suggests that possible expropriation without compensation could be a solution here. 

In my opinion, if you can’t manage your own buildings successfully, what is the point of taking ownership of others?

It should not take another fire, another news headline, or another round of blame-shifting for us to act. And yet, here we are, stuck in this loop of policy without implementation, vision without backbone, crisis without urgency.

If the government is serious about solving the housing crisis, then we need more than policies that look good on paper. We need plans to be executed. We need a multi-pronged approach: removing the criminals demanding rent from tenants, support for tenants in hijacked buildings, repairing the sewage, water and electricity, and putting in place refuse removal.

Public-private partnerships can rehabilitate abandoned stock, and real incentives for developers who want to build or convert properties for mixed-income housing could be provided.

And let’s be clear, this isn’t only a housing issue. It’s a safety issue. A dignity issue. An economic issue. A human rights issue.

Until we stop viewing hijacked buildings as isolated cases and start addressing them as part of a broader urban failure, nothing will shift. We’ll keep rewatching Jerusalema and asking, “How much has changed since then?”

The answer must not be: nothing.

Because people aren’t just looking for affordable housing. They’re looking for proof that someone, somewhere, still gives a damn.

Ask Ash examines South Africa’s property, architecture and living spaces. Continue the conversation with her on email (ash@askash.co.za) and X (@askashbroker).

The anti-migration regulations in Europe and the US against Africans continue to affect the sociopolitical and economic development of Africa. Thousands of Africans who apply for visas continue to have their applications rejected.  

Moreover, most Africans are charged exorbitant non-refundable fees when applying for visas. Millions in foreign and local currencies are accumulated by European and US embassies in various African countries from visa applications annually.  African visa applicants face more severe restrictions compared with applicants from other regions, resulting in a disproportionately high rejection rate. 

In 2022, Africa topped the list of rejections with 30% or one in three of all processed applications being turned down, even though it had the lowest number of visa applications per capita. 

Africa accounted for seven of the top 10 countries with the highest Schengen visa rejection rates in 2022: Algeria (45.8%), Guinea-Bissau (45.2%), Nigeria (45.1%), Ghana (43.6%), Senegal (41.6%), Guinea (40.6%) and Mali (39.9%).  The situation has become worse over the years as economic instability and conflicts continue to rage in most African countries.  

Some African countries have started calling for visa reciprocity against travellers from Europe and the US. The US and most European countries do not require visas to enter African countries.  

According to Justice Malala, a South African political analyst, in May, Namibia unveiled measures to impose entry visa requirements to more than 30 countries that have not reciprocated its open visa regime. Nigeria has threatened to impose the same measures. In the run-up to the French election earlier in July, a Chadian official told France’s Le Monde newspaper that if incoming leaders block visas for Chadians, “we will apply reciprocity”.

Zambia’s President Hakainde Hichilema recently raised the issue of non-refundable visa fees in his country, demanding the rules on non-refundable fees be re-examined and the visa application fees be refunded to Zambians whose applications are rejected. If his demand is accepted, this must apply to all African countries. 

According to European states, most rejections are based on “reasonable doubts about the visa applicants’ intention to return home”. Many Africans believe otherwise.

They claim that African visa rejections are weaponised against Africans to deprive them of voices at critical political and socio-economic gatherings on global matters such as climate change, artificial intelligence, human trafficking in Europe and the US. These discussions eventually become policies that affect Africa.

An increased number of leading Africans on these subjects continue to have their applications rejected. These do not sound like people who present “reasonable doubts about the visa applicants’ intentions to return home”. 

African News reports that African governments are building partnerships with Europe across sectors, trade, education, and technology. But the barriers to movement stand in stark contrast to the rhetoric of cooperation. 

The rise of right-wing politics in many parts of the world has also further complicated matters for African visa applicants. Pressure from far-right parties who are in power in half a dozen member states in Europe are outdoing each other in introducing tough anti-immigration measures. 

US President Donald Trump has just imposed travel bans on 12 countries, of which seven are African — Chad, Congo-Brazzaville, Equatorial Guinea, Eritrea, Libya, Somalia and Sudan. Travel restrictions will be imposed on people from Burundi, Sierra Leone, and Togo.

Even before this measure, Trump’s anti-migration political campaign and his subsequent extra-judicial expulsion of immigrants without due process now that he is in power has emboldened right-wing anti-migration politics throughout the world.

The victory on Monday of the nationalist historian Karol Nawrocki in Poland’s presidential election is one case in point. Nawrocki is an admirer of Trump who  support by calling for tighter immigration controls and championing conservative social values in the EU. 

The BBC reports that Trump’s administration can temporarily revoke the legal status of more than 500,000 migrants living in the US, the US Supreme Court ruled recently. 

The ruling puts on hold a previous federal judge’s order stopping the administration from ending the “parole” immigration programme, established by former president Joe Biden. The programme protected immigrants fleeing economic and political turmoil in their home countries. The new order puts roughly 530,000 migrants from Cuba, Haiti, Nicaragua and Venezuela at risk of being deported.  

It is not just the rejection of visa applications that is troubling; the non-refundable visa application fees continue to negatively affect applicants’ financial status. According to the London-based research and arts organisation LAGO Collective, African countries have lost an estimated $67.5 million in non-refundable Schengen visa application fees since 2024.

Africans find themselves going against the tide in a globalised world where mobility equates to opportunity.  They are finding themselves locked out “not because they lack intention or preparation, but because the system increasingly seems stacked against them”.

This matter deserves a wider discussion, preferably at the African Union. 

The visa rejections of Africans are not only about Africans overstaying their allowed time in Europe and the US.  It is about Europe and the US continuing with business as usual, particularly at multilateral level, where binding discussions without the involvement of Africans are taken. This is particularly the case regarding rare earth minerals and other metals essential to new technologies. 

Thembisa Fakude is a senior research fellow at Africa Asia Dialogues and a director at the Mail & Guardian.

Draft regulations under the Upstream Petroleum Resources Development Act may be prioritising oil and gas development and disregarding the imperative to shift away from fossil fuels and the risk of creating stranded assets.

This is contained in a letter from eco-justice organisation, The Green Connection, to the  department of mineral and petroleum resources. Submitted on 26 May, the letter said the proposed regulations could present a serious threat to good governance, environmental justice and the livelihoods of coastal communities. 

The Act is under review by the department, following its passage by parliament in April last year. The draft regulations are designed to implement the new law, which focuses on the orderly development of petroleum resources, equitable access and the sustainable development of the country’s petroleum resources. 

The Green Connection said it formally endorsed a recent joint submission by civil society groups Natural Justice, the Centre for Environmental Rights and groundWork on the regulations that was submitted to the department.

The regulations may fall short on several fronts, said Shahil Singh, a legal adviser at The Green Connection.

“We are most concerned about the issue of public participation. People may not be able to meaningfully engage with decisions that may affect their homes, livelihoods, and natural heritage if the terms that enable their participation are too restrictive,” Singh said.

“The definition of who qualifies as an ‘interested and affected party’ needs to be broadened to ensure that it does not silence those whose voices matter most — particularly small-scale fishers and coastal residents. 

“Moreover, expecting communities to pay a non-refundable fee to appeal administrative decisions, could create obstacles to justice that marginalised communities should not have to endure. People should not have to pay to ensure that their voices are heard.”

The global climate crisis necessitates an urgent and decisive transition away from fossil fuels, Singh wrote in the letter. “The draft regulations, however, appear to promote the continued and expanded exploitation of oil and gas resources, directly contravening the country’s national and international climate change commitments.” 

The Green Connection shared the “profound concern”expressed in the joint submission that the promotion of gas as a transitional fuel, particularly for gas-to-power projects, could cause more greenhouse gas emissions and methane, he said.

“Methane emissions could potentially have a greater impact than those of carbon dioxide and may be up to eighty-two times more impactful over a 20-year period.

“We strongly support the joint submission’s call for the draft regulations to explicitly define and incorporate critical terms such as ‘greenhouse gas (GHG)’, ‘Scope 1, Scope 2, and Scope 3 emissions’, and ‘sectoral emission targets’.”

This is essential for alignment with the Climate Change Act and for ensuring that the petroleum sector is accountable for its emissions and contributes to South Africa’s decarbonisation pathway. 

“The failure of the draft regulations to mandate comprehensive lifecycle assessments that include quantification of all greenhouse gas emissions (including methane leaks and Scope 3 emissions) as well as the unquantified social cost of carbon, as highlighted by the joint submission, is a critical omission that undermines any claim of environmentally responsible development,” Singh said.

Expanding fossil fuel infrastructure without rigorous scrutiny of the possible environmental and social implications runs counter to the global imperative for decarbonisation and South Africa’s own stated commitments to a just energy transition.

“The Green Connection believes that the concerns and detailed recommendations articulated in the joint submission … are fundamental to ensuring that the regulatory framework for upstream petroleum activities in South Africa upholds constitutional environmental rights, promotes genuine public participation, protects our invaluable marine ecosystems and the livelihoods they support, and aligns with our urgent climate change obligations,” said Singh.

The country’s marine and coastal ecosystems are invaluable national assets, ecologically sensitive and critical for biodiversity and livelihoods. 

“The Green Connection is deeply concerned that the draft regulations, in their current form, may fail to provide adequate protection for these environments against the inherent risks of upstream petroleum activities.”

It aligned itself with the joint submission’s assertion that the Act and its draft regulations appear to facilitate an accelerated expansion of oil and gas activities without adequately addressing the possibility of severe environmental impacts, Singh said, noting that this is particularly alarming for offshore exploration and production.

“We endorse the call for mandatory lifecycle impact assessments for all petroleum projects, which must quantify cumulative impacts, including those specific to marine ecosystems such as seismic impacts on marine fauna, potential for oil spills, and disruption of marine ecological integrity,” he said.

The “current vague reference” to “possible impact on the environment” in notice requirements is wholly insufficient, he argued.

“The inadequacy of consultation requirements for offshore developments, which may exclude those with a significant interest if not “directly affected” or if the landowner/lawful occupier concept is inappropriately applied to marine spaces, is a critical flaw identified in the joint submission that we support rectifying.”

Coastal communities, particularly small-scale fishers, depend intrinsically on healthy marine ecosystems for their livelihoods, food security and cultural heritage. 

Upstream petroleum activities may pose direct and significant threats to these communities through potential pollution, displacement from traditional fishing grounds and adverse impacts on marine resources. 

“We particularly highlight the joint submission’s critique of regulation 23(1)(g), which vaguely mentions ‘provision for co-existence with fishermen, where applicable’, within local content plans, deeming it so vague as to be almost meaningless. Such provisions must be substantive and genuinely protect fishing communities.

The broader failure of the draft regulations to create any meaningful obligations on rights holders to address and mitigate the adverse socio-economic impacts of petroleum operations on affected local communities, including fishing communities, “is a grave concern we share with the joint submission”. 

The South Durban Community Environmental Alliance said in its comments on the proposed regulations that there is no provision made for the reduction of greenhouse gas emissions. “There is also no plan for the transition to ensure a move from upstream fossil fuel developments to alternative sources as per the country’s objectives.” 

The Climate Change Act aims to reduce carbon emissions and ensure the country moves from a carbon-intensive economy to a low-carbon intensive economy, however the draft regulations “disregard this”. 

By disregarding the climate change question, these developments will result in more climate change-related disasters such as floods, droughts and runaways fires. Areas such as Durban that have been vulnerable to floods will become even more vulnerable resulting in a higher percentage of “people dying from climate change-related incidents”, putting more strain on the public purse. 

“With South Africa having signed to commit to net zero by 2050, 25 years away (less than one term of a production right) this is a regressive piece of legislation,” it said.

When we talk about what school must teach young people to be, we often fall back on buzzwords: entrepreneurs, forward-facing leaders, innovative thinkers, team players. But what do these labels actually mean in the context of a classroom — and beyond?

At its core, preparing young people for the future means helping them to think critically, work well with others, and bounce back from setbacks. These are the human skills that will remain in demand no matter how fast technology evolves. And there is one approach that consistently builds these competencies: project-based, practical learning.

Instead of asking learners to memorise information they may never use, we should be giving them opportunities to investigate meaningful questions, collaborate on real-world problems and reflect on their own learning. 

From memorisation to critical thinking: Traditional classrooms reward recall over reasoning. But now that artificial intelligence can do deep research in the blink of an eye, knowledge alone is no longer power. It is what you do with it that counts. Project-based learning (PBL) flips the script by asking students to analyse, interpret, evaluate, and apply what they learn.

Whether they are pitching a business plan or solving a social issue, learners should be challenged to question assumptions and make informed decisions. These habits drive critical thinking — they are not developed through worksheets or lectures alone.

From solo achievement to collaborative learning: School can be a strangely individualistic experience. But in life, success is rarely a solo act. Project-based learning centres on collaboration. It teaches people life skills like how to listen actively, share responsibility, resolve conflict and build on each other’s ideas. And these skills are best learned through doing. Through building something together, solving a shared problem or presenting a group solution to a real audience.

Collaboration also nurtures empathy and respect. In diverse project teams, people encounter different perspectives, learn to navigate differences and see how their strengths can complement others’. This is powerful preparation for life beyond school.

From curriculum silos to integrated learning: Most schools still organise knowledge into neat boxes, but the world is not siloed like this. Real problems, from climate change to financial planning, cut across disciplines and require integrated thinking.

Projects naturally connect subjects. A single task might involve mathematical modelling, persuasive writing, ethical decision-making and digital design. This not only mirrors real-world problem-solving but also helps learners see the relevance and application of what they are doing.

From marks-focused mindsets to growth and purpose: When everything in school is geared toward tests and marks, it is easy for learners to disconnect from their deeper motivations. Practical, project-based learning reintroduces a sense of purpose. It shows them that their ideas matter, that they can make a difference, and that learning is not just about grades. 

It is about doing something meaningful. It also builds resilience. Projects do not always go according to plan. There are setbacks, iterations, and feedback loops. But through this process, learners develop grit, adaptability and a growth mindset.

From passive learning to participation: Many students experience school as something done “to” rather than “with” them. But when learners have ownership over their work — when they are researching a topic they care about, building something tangible or solving a problem that matters — they engage more deeply.

Project-based learning invites them to take the lead. Learners should ask their own questions, make choices, manage their time and take responsibility for the outcome. It turns passive people into active participants, and it shifts the teacher’s role from information-giver to learning coach and mentor.

Project-based and practical learning redefines what learning looks like and what success in school means. It is not a trend. It is a transformation, and it is critical.

Shaun Fuchs is the founder and chief executive of Centennial Schools Sandton.

South Africa’s industrial decline is accelerating. State-owned enterprises that once drove economic transformation now epitomise institutional failure. Eskom’s power cuts cripple manufacturing. Transnet’s rail network deteriorates while ports struggle with backlogs. The Industrial Development Corporation, established to finance industrialisation, limps along with a compromised balance sheet.

This infrastructure was built on the vision of Jan Smuts, prime minister from 1919 to 1924 and 1939 to 1948. While his commitment to racial segregation was morally reprehensible, his approach to economic development offers lessons for today’s policymakers grappling with sluggish growth and persistent inequality.

Smuts understood that South Africa needed to transcend its role as a commodity supplier to Britain’s industrial economy. His developmental state model, combining strategic state investment, international partnerships and technocratic competence, transformed the country from a mining enclave into Africa’s most sophisticated industrial economy.

The foundations he laid endured for decades. The Electricity Supply Commission (later Eskom) provided cheap power that enabled large-scale manufacturing. The Iron and Steel Corporation (Iscor) supplied essential inputs for further industrialisation. His successors built on these foundations, establishing Sasol for synthetic fuels and the Council for Scientific and Industrial Research.

Today, these institutions are shadows of their former selves. More troubling, the country appears to have lost the capacity for the long-term thinking that created them.

South Africa’s economic performance tells a sobering story. Growth has averaged just 0.8% annually over the past five years, well below the rate needed to reduce unemployment or meaningfully tackle poverty. The Gini coefficient, measuring income inequality, has remained stubbornly at 0.66 since the 1990s, making South Africa one of the world’s most unequal societies.

The benefits of black economic empowerment (BEE) policies have accrued primarily to political and economic elites, while the rest remain excluded from meaningful economic participation. The debate over the benefits of BEE has resurfaced, particularly concerning its mechanisms for wealth distribution. This has been highlighted by the recent scepticism surrounding the potential introduction of Starlink to South Africa, with concerns about exceptions to BEE compliance.

Nonetheless, it is undisputed that, as a result of transformative policies, South Africa’s black middle class has surpassed the white middle class. This shift is not accidental but rather a product of deliberate post-1994 policy design. But the mechanisms of BEE need to be revisited to broaden its pool of beneficiaries.

Moreover, the state capture scandal, where politically connected individuals systematically looted public resources, represents the nadir of this failure, which has been accounted for by the collapse of Transnet and Eskom, the consequences of which are signified by inefficiencies thereafter. Despite the Zondo state capture commission spending more than R1 billion investigating the theft, many implicated figures retain positions of influence.

Why do voters continue to elect leaders who have demonstrably failed them? The answer lies in how persistent unemployment, poverty and inequality make populations vulnerable to manipulation by the very politicians who created these conditions.

The contrast with Smuts’s approach is stark. He prioritised competence over patronage, choosing Hendrik Johannes van der Bijl, a German-educated engineer with US business experience to integrate the country’s fragmented electricity supply. Van der Bijl’s technical expertise, combined with political backing, enabled the creation of a power system that underpinned decades of industrial growth.

Today’s leaders talk about infrastructure development but have forgotten a crucial lesson: maintenance matters more than new construction. Neglecting existing infrastructure generates higher long-term costs than building new capacity. Johannesburg’s collapsing central business district exemplifies this short-sightedness. Years of deferred maintenance have created a crisis that will cost far more to resolve than it would have cost to prevent.

The rot runs deeper than poor maintenance. It reflects a broader failure of vision and leadership. Where Smuts aligned South Africa with international partners to attract investment and expertise, contemporary leaders often prioritise political survival over economic transformation.

South Africa does not need to resurrect Smuts’s racial ideology; his vision of white supremacy was both morally bankrupt and economically counterproductive. But it needs his approach to state-led development, clear vision, international partnerships, infrastructure investment and, above all, competence in execution.

The formation of a government of national unity after the 2024 elections suggests political leaders recognise the scale of the crisis. The question is whether they possess the vision and competence to address it. 

As Smuts understood, South Africa’s prosperity depends on reliable electricity, efficient transport and industrial capacity. These foundations are crumbling. Without urgent action to rebuild them, the country risks becoming a case study in how great institutions can be destroyed by poor leadership.

The blueprint for revival exists in South Africa’s own history. The question is whether anyone has the courage to follow it.

Ashley Nyiko Mabasa holds master’s in economic and labour sociology focused on energy policies and master’s in public policy and governance focused on data governance, and is co-chairperson of the Brics Youth Council.