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Mail & Guardian
3 days ago
- Politics
- Mail & Guardian
South Africans believe the country is ‘headed in the wrong direction', survey shows
Out of line: A study by the Human Sciences Research Council for the Electoral Commission of South Africa found that 79% of respondents think the country is 'headed in the wrong direction' while less than two-thirds were 'satisfied' with democracy. Photo: Delwyn Verasamy A new study shows that most South Africans are sceptical about the country and want more transparency about political funding and donors This content is restricted to subscribers only . Join the M&G Community Our commitment at the Mail & Guardian is to ensure every reader enjoys the finest experience. Join the M&G community and support us in delivering in-depth news to you consistently. Subscription enables: - M&G community membership - independent journalism - access to all premium articles & features - a digital version of the weekly newspaper - invites to subscriber-only events - the opportunity to test new online features first Already a subscriber?
Mail & Guardian
12-06-2025
- Politics
- Mail & Guardian
Gavin Evans on fathers, faith and fearless reporting in South Africa
Journalist and writer Gavin Evans When I meet Gavin Evans on a Friday morning, it's to talk about his memoir Son of a Preacher Man, which he's visiting South Africa to promote. But I'm more interested in hearing what it was like to report for the Mail & Guardian in the dying days of apartheid. Evans was one of the first reporters hired by the paper. It was the mid-Eighties, and Evans had just started his career in Gqeberha, then known as Port Elizabeth. 'My journalism career started at the Eastern Province Herald in '84,' he recalls. 'There was a company then called South African Associated Newspapers. They had a three-month programme and all the new journalists went through it. After that, you started at places like the Eastern Province Herald or the Post. I was on the Herald.' Evans' journey would soon take him to the Rand Daily Mail, Business Day and eventually the pioneering Weekly Mail, which would later become the Mail & Guardian. 'I knew Anton Harber because he'd also been at the Rand Daily Mail,' Evans explains. 'Irwin Manoim was there too, and Clive Cope was around. They were the three who set it up. I went along to the opening meeting and came up with story ideas. Initially, I was freelancing while working for the SAN Transvaal News Bureau. But then Anton offered me a job.' For Evans, joining the Weekly Mail was more than just a career move, it was a leap into a newsroom that operated with a shared spirit of purpose. Gavin Evans' father Bruce's consecration in 1975 'It was a wonderful working environment,' he says. 'Everyone got paid the same, from editors to everyone else. I don't know about the cleaning staff, but for all the journalists, it was the same salary. It was a brave decision but it worked for a while.' At the Weekly Mail, Evans carved out a distinctive voice. 'Initially, I was doing politics,' he says, 'but I knew a lot about boxing. So, I said, 'You guys need a boxing correspondent!' I wrote about boxing in a different way. The other boxing correspondents were white guys who didn't know any of the black boxers. I did. I had access nobody else had.' His work soon drew the attention of the Sunday Times, which asked him to be their boxing correspondent too. Evans also became the mysterious voice behind the Weekly Mail's satirical gossip column. 'No one was told except for a few people in the know who the writer behind it was,' he explains. 'We were poking fun at government people, and writing it in a tone of naivety, but of course it was all about exposing them. John Perlman did it before me, and then I was the writer of the column for probably the longest stretch — at least two years.' The era was dangerous for journalists willing to speak truth to power. Evans recalls the paper's investigative spirit, which led to the exposure of the so-called 'third force' — the apartheid state's clandestine efforts to foment violence. 'We broke the story of the Civil Cooperation Bureau (CCB), the state's assassination group,' he says. 'Military intelligence was funding Inkatha to hack people to death on the trains. We broke that story too.' Evans' investigations and his political activity with the ANC and SACP made him a target. In the late Eighties, he says, the CCB hired 'Peaches' Gordon, a killer from a notorious Cape Town gang, to assassinate him. 'His instructions were to stab me to death and steal my watch and wallet to make it look like a straight robbery,' Evans says evenly. 'But I was in hiding at the time. The ANC had said to me, 'You must go into hiding.' I stayed in 18 different houses in six months — all in Johannesburg. I'd move and move and move. He followed me to five houses but each time I'd already left weeks before.' Even the killer's ruse of offering sensitive documents, something that had once yielded a groundbreaking story for Evans, couldn't lure him out. 'He phoned me and said, 'I'm a comrade. I've got documents for you about the state. Can you meet me?' But there was something about him that didn't ring true. So I didn't turn up. It turned out to be my life he was after.' By the end of the Eighties, the Weekly Mail, along with international partners, had exposed the third force's operations. In the aftermath, the government scrambled to contain the fallout. A family portrait of Joan, Bruce, Michael and Gavin from 1965 'They set up a tame judge, Justice Harms, and the Harms Commission to investigate,' Evans says. 'They admitted all the failed assassinations, including mine. Peaches Gordon was arrested and gave a full statement, including in my case. Then they released him, but he was later killed by the CCB with a bullet to the back of his head.' Evans had a complicated relationship with his father, who was a man of peace, but also of contradictions. In Son of a Preacher Man, he grapples with these paradoxes — his father's fervent faith and quiet complicity, his support for his son's political defiance and his own hand in shaping a world where violence was a constant threat. 'I never even looked at my earlier book when I wrote this one,' Evans tells me. 'I wanted it to be fresh.' Son of a Preacher Man delves far deeper than his memoir, Dancing Shoes is Dead, which mingled his love for boxing with glimpses of his life. Here, the focus is squarely on the fracture between father and son, a rift that began one night when Evans was 14 and his father beat him with his fists — a rift that only healed decades later, after an exchange of letters. Listening to Evans recount his early years as a journalist in South Africa, it's clear that the violence of the state — detentions, beatings, tyre-slashings — took a toll on him. 'I thought none of this affected me,' he says. 'But it did. I was having dreams of being buried alive or escaping. I became more aggressive.' These traumas burrowed deep into his psyche, manifesting in ways he didn't recognise until much later. Yet even in the darkness, there were moments of almost cinematic defiance. Evans recalls the day security police barged into his house, threatening him over military service. 'They said, 'Either you cooperate, or the military police will arrest you at work.' I told them, 'Get the fuck out of my house!'' The next day, his motorbike's tyres were slashed. But in a surprising twist, his father quietly intervened. Using his weight as a bishop, he wrote to the authorities, arguing that his son deserved a delay in conscription. Evans only discovered this act of paternal protection after his father's death, when he stumbled upon the letters in a box of papers. 'It made me cry,' he says softly. 'We'd always had a bit of distance, but I never told him I was proud of him too.' That fragile reconciliation came just before his father's final decline. Diagnosed with motor neurone disease, he had less than a year to live. Evans speaks of those last months with a tenderness that cuts through the decades of conflict: 'We had our reckoning, and then it was gone.' If there's a thread running through Evans' life, it's the question of what it means to stand firm when the world seems determined to push you down. In South Africa, that meant working for the M&G during its tumultuous early years — reporting from a newsroom in Braamfontein, trading stories and dodging censorship, feeling invincible in his twenties, even as he was detained and assaulted by the state. Gavin Evans' last amateur fight in 1982 — a knock-out win. 'You think it's not affecting you,' he says. 'But it does. It seeps in.' After moving to England in the early Nineties, Evans continued to write and teach. Son of a Preacher Man is his ninth non-fiction book, and today he lectures first-year and postgraduate journalism students at Birkbeck, University of London. Evans, now 65, speaks of his family. 'I've got two daughters, Tessa and Caitlyn, both of whom appear in the book. Towards the end, there's a chapter about Tessa and her husband Ciaran and their son, Ferdi. 'The final chapter is all about Ferdi. You know, the book's about fathers and sons, and now it's also about grandfathers and grandsons, because I spend a lot of time with Ferdi. I adore him. He's three and three-quarters, and if you ask him how old he is, that's what he'll tell you — three and three-quarters.' These personal milestones deepened his understanding of the legacy of fatherhood, both in the book and in life. Reflecting on his days as a young journalist in South Africa and his complex relationship with his father, Evans sees his own journey as a testament to resilience and the redemptive power of storytelling. As he guides the next generation of journalists, he remains mindful of the lessons of the past and the bright promise of those still to come.
Mail & Guardian
11-06-2025
- Business
- Mail & Guardian
Cosatu urges action to protect jobs and save the Mail & Guardian
Labour federation Cosatu, like many progressive South Africans, is concerned by the plight of workers at the Mail & Guardian — and this legendary newspaper itself. Labour federation Cosatu, like many progressive South Africans, is concerned by the plight of workers at the Mail & Guardian — and this legendary newspaper itself. Recent and quite depressing media reports suggest that this pillar of South Africa's media landscape is experiencing severe financial difficulties and the staff have been served with retrenchment notices. This is a matter that Cosatu is not only distressed by, but cannot afford to remain silent about. While media houses around the world, including South Africa, have struggled with the transition from print to electronic media, and the proliferation of free and often fake news sites, South Africa can ill afford to see the M&G close its doors, let alone retrench staff. Cosatu cannot agree to a single worker losing their job and threaten to plunge their families into despair and poverty. More so when we are battling a 43.1% unemployment rate and when appreciating that the media landscape will struggle to absorb so many workers. The M&G is not just any newspaper. During the darkest days of apartheid, the then Weekly Mail and its journalists shone a spotlight on the apartheid regime, giving hope to a nation under siege and helping to mobilise the international community in support of the liberation struggle. Post-1994, the M&G has continued to seek a niche space for itself as a progressive investigative newspaper. We are convinced that the M&G can and must be saved, more so given its relatively small staff footprint of just over 25. It is urgent that the owner of this proud newspaper, Hoosain Karjieker, works with staff, Cosatu and other stakeholders, to find a solution — one that does not involve gutting the newspaper. We appreciate that since Cosatu made its voice heard on this issue, Mr Karjieker has reached out and has availed himself to meet the federation to discuss this situation further, and we hope to help find solutions that will save the paper and its employees' jobs. All too often, including in the media sector, workers have seen employers, often out of their depth, simply mismanage companies and newspapers into the ground, including failing to honour the various financial commitments, and then dump the bill upon workers. Alternatives to retrenchment The Labour Relations Act requires all employers to meaningfully engage workers and unions on alternatives to retrenchments. These engagements must be in good faith and allow workers and their unions to table alternatives that must be considered by the employer. The employer must share their full financial reports with workers and their unions during these engagements. This is a legal requirement. The reported rush to retrench workers and gut the M&G is a worrying sign that the employer views the LRA as little more than a tick box exercise and is determined to retrench workers at all costs. The employer needs to appreciate that their employees are the greatest asset and, without them, a turnaround plan will fail. Gutting the M&G newsroom will reduce it to little more than a university newsletter, not the institution it has been. It would very likely be a death sentence for this company. Engagements with staff need to be meaningful. Not only must the full state of the paper's finances, debts and other financial obligations be revealed but practical solutions and alternatives to retrenchments must be tabled, costed, considered and given a fair chance to succeed. These need to look at where costs can be saved without retrenching staff; where alternative revenue sources can be found, including moving fully digital; a ramped-up advertising drive; and partnerships with local and international media. While a turnaround plan is put in place, the Unemployment Insurance Fund should be approached through the Commission for Conciliation, Mediation and Arbitration to activate its Temporary Employee Relief Scheme, which will help cover the salaries of the staff over six months. But this relief is conditional upon the employer committing to not retrenching staff. Potential new owners with deeper financial pockets should be sought. Pride or embarrassment should not be a hindrance while the livelihoods of so many staff are in danger of being lost. The Weekly Mail published its first paper on 14 June 1985, so the M&G would be celebrating its 40th anniversary this week. This is a tragedy given its heroic role in the struggle against apartheid and for our constitutional democracy, that instead it has been plunged into a life and death fight for survival. Cosatu believes that all steps must be put in place to save the paper and its employees' jobs. A turnaround plan should be activated and support sought from the UIF. If these cannot be done, then a new owner must be found for this bastion of progressive media freedom. The federation will be providing and ramping up its full support to the workers at the M&G during this difficult period, including the options of finding a new owner, to save these workers' jobs and this proud paper. Solly Phetoe is the general secretary of Cosatu.
Mail & Guardian
09-06-2025
- General
- Mail & Guardian
Call for nominations: Power of Women 2025
This year marks the 19th anniversary of the Mail & Guardian's annual flagship event, Power of Women, where the immense contributions made by South African women are recognised and celebrated. This year's theme, 'I n the Spirit of Women20: Celebrating Women Who Turn the Impossible into Unstoppable ', will pay tribute to the women who challenge limitations, shift narratives and lead with a purpose. We invite you to nominate powerful women from all sectors and communities. Whether they work in science, social justice, the arts, education, entrepreneurship or beyond, this initiative celebrates stories of resilience and determination that often go unseen. This is your opportunity to nominate individuals whose work has a lasting effect, drives progress and inspires future generations. The winners will be announced on 28 August, the month in which the Mail & Guardian celebrates Women's Month and when the nation observes National Women's Day. The closing date for nominations is 20 July 2025. Please submit your nomination by clicking For more information about the Power of Women, visit the website
Mail & Guardian
06-06-2025
- General
- Mail & Guardian
The Mail & Guardian matters: Looking back in admiration
As a paid-up member of the print dinosaurs club, and having worked at the Mail & Guardian for almost 25 years, it is easy to claim ownership of deep affection and respect for this unique publication. It is definitely not because of the M&G's generous salary packages that I have worked here for so long. Back in the 1990s, and even after I rejoined the M&G in 2010, the newsroom was always occupied by a wildly diverse range of characters. Eccentric, passionate, committed, talented, courageous, argumentative, but all united by the desire to expose corruption, injustice and wrongdoing, to question authority, to analyse events as they unfolded, to tell the stories of South Africans and to write about the things that interested them. Being a member of the production team, these people could be immensely frustrating because meeting deadlines was not high on their list of priorities, but what they produced in the end was always worth the wait. I have worked in many newsrooms in South Africa, but it was at the M&G that I found a home. Most importantly, I found a place where I could be proud of the work that we did and my role in the newspaper that we produced. The characters that I write so fondly of here are a dying breed, or at least have moved on to more stable and profitable positions. But as we deal with the immense stress of the Section 189 retrenchment process and contemplate a different configuration of the M&G, I am constantly surprised and gratified by how big a role the M&G has played in the lives and careers of younger members of staff. Lesego Chepape, arts writer The Mail & Guardian gave me a chance, a platform to tell stories about where I come from. I would commute from Tembisa to the office every day — a journey that felt longer not because of the distance, but because of the weight I carried. Every morning, I stepped into spaces where stories of glossy suburbs were more familiar, while mine came from gravel roads and overcrowded taxis. I was scared. Sometimes embarrassed. What if they didn't see value in my township tales? But slowly, I leaned in. The lens began to zoom into the cracks on our pavements, the colours on our walls, the smoke rising from the kasi shisanyama. As an environment reporter, I showed the dumping sites we lived next to, the rivers that cried oil instead of water. Now, as an arts reporter, I show the brilliance of self-taught painters who use scrap wood as canvas. This platform matters to us — to my community. Through it, Tembisa has spoken to Stellenbosch, to Makhanda and to Soweto. I realised it's not just about reporting, it's about translating lived experience into stories that matter. Stories that shout. Stories that whisper home. That is what the Mail & Guardian has become. Aarti Bhana, news reporter One of the first questions they ask in journalism school is: 'What sort of journalism are you interested in and where do you see yourself working?' I was 22 at the time, and only one name came to mind: 'Mail & Guardian'. It's a progressive and informative newspaper, and it untangles the complexities of South Africa, past and present, and I wanted to be part of its legacy. It was on my vision board for the longest time and when I finally stepped into the Mail & Guardian newsroom as a journalist years later, I was reminded that dreams do come true. The publication has stood the test of time, consistently giving the public what it wants: news that empowers, educates and reflects the world to them. For me, it was never just about getting the job — it was about what I could contribute to the world through it. That's why the M&G matters, today and always.' Sheree Bega, environment reporter Twenty-five years ago, I was completing my BTech degree in journalism and there was only one newsroom I wanted to work in: the Mail & Guardian. As a young student, I devoured each edition of the paper every week and dreamt of being part of the M&G with its incredible team of investigative journalists, and its enduring legacy of fearless and independent journalism. Eager-eyed, I managed to secure an interview for the cadet school that the M&G ran back then, but while I was shortlisted, I never made it in. I was crushed. Still, I started freelancing for the M&G at the time and it was the first newspaper I ever had my byline in. I was so chuffed and still have that story, somewhere. The M&G is probably where my career in environmental journalism first started; I became a freelancer and was writing for the environmental supplements the M&G published back then. I still have all of those articles too. The M&G was a pioneer of environmental journalism in South Africa and has a strong and proud history of covering environmental issues. With its in-depth investigative reporting and analysis on environmental issues, it was a trailblazer in the field, establishing its environmental coverage early on, even amid challenges during the apartheid era. Over the years, world-class environmental journalists such as Eddie Koch, Fiona Macleod, Yolandi Groenewald and Sipho Kings have exposed corruption and held corporations — and the government — accountable for their disregard of the environment. The annual Greening the Future awards are a testament to how the M&G recognises and celebrates environmental efforts in the country. The M&G continues to provide extensive coverage of environmental issues with its focus on climate change, water resources, pollution and the crisis affecting the natural world. And, it says a lot that even now, during these horrible retrenchments facing us at the M&G, there is still a position for an environmental reporter.
