Youth Resistance: The Psychological Impact from Apartheid to Today

BOTH the youth of 1976 and today’s generation in South Africa face similar challenges, including oppression and poverty, which have contributed to widespread instability and a sense of mental suffocation.

This psychological doldrum stems from the harsh conditions they endure—such as dilapidated housing, inadequate education that leads to poverty, unemployment, poor mental health, and more.

The death of Hector Pieterson occurred on a peaceful decolonial turn in 1976. One key argument of this historic epoch was that the Bantu Education curriculum by design aims not to liberate Black South Africans from the socio-economic margins imposed by colonialism.

Instead, it institutionalised poverty and produced labourers rather than individuals equipped with political and economic awareness.

Poverty brings with it profound psychological impacts—depression, frustration, suicidal ideation, and despair.

Today’s youth also suffer from mental suffocation, and their resistance—from the #FeesMustFall movement to the present day—has come at great cost, with the deaths of young people such as Sisonke Mbolekwa, Benjamin Phehla, Mthokozisi Ntumba, and Mlungisi Madonsela.

Fees Must Fall was not only a call for free education, but also for a decolonised curriculum.

This was predicated on the observation that, the colonial legacy of apartheid education curriculum still sidelines vulnerable groups, reducing them to labourers rather than ideological independent, critically engaged, politically and economically conscious individuals.

Therefore, this continued colonial education system partly explains the low youth voter turnout.

All those who have died—from Hector Pieterson to today’s student activists—were casualties of state-led systems.

The dominant narrative around the 1976 uprising often simplifies it to a rejection of Afrikaans as a medium of instruction.

However, Tsietsi McDonald Mashinini and his collective were rejecting a broader system of economic exclusion.

Their peaceful protest sought to collapse the economy by urging the oppressed to stay in their domiciles, highlighting how the oppressed were being used to sustain an economy they did not benefit from.

Afrikaans, in that context, was merely the breaking point.

The youth resistance was not about replacing Afrikaans with English—it was about dismantling a system designed to marginalise them.

Similarly, Fees Must Fall was not only about tuition fees, but about the ongoing struggle that Mashinini and others had begun.

Today, the education system continues to suffocate youth through debt, exclusion, unemployment, and a curriculum that perpetuates alienating narratives, further marginalising vulnerable groups.

A concrete example is the overlooked history of the Xhosa nation’s 100-year legacy—stories that could foster pride, patriotism, civic responsibility, and an understanding that issues like marginalisation are a legacy of apartheid and demand radical redress.

The inability of many Black South Africans to afford university fees is rooted in the colonial institutionalisation of poverty.

Decolonising the curriculum would highlight these historical truths and support the push for free, accessible education that tackles systemic oppression.

Undoubtedly, Hector Pieterson, Sisonke Mbolekwa, Benjamin Phehla, Mthokozisi Ntumba, and Mlungisi Madonsela would not have died if oppressive conditions did not exist.

Today, the nature of oppression has shifted—from overt brutality to systemic economic exclusion. The oppressor has changed form, moving from a white-led apartheid regime to a predominantly white-controlled economic system, with one agenda.

Any society becomes unstable when a portion of its population is deeply marginalised.

We see this reflected in “global” unrest, such as the riots in Los Angeles. In South Africa, today’s youth appear mentally suffocated, which may contribute to instability.

While many may not be fully politically or socially conscientised, events such as the gender-based violence cases involving Cwecwe and Namhla demonstrate that the youth can be mobilised at any moment.

Therefore, the South African government must reflect deeply—especially during June 16 commemorations—on the state of the nation’s youth. Are they celebrating June 16 as a historic event, or living its continued struggle?

This day and its surrounding month mark a decolonial turning point, a time when young people sought to collapse an economy from which they were excluded.

With today’s high youth unemployment, that struggle persists. The only difference is that the government is now led by a former liberation movement that has, perhaps unconsciously, continued many aspects of the apartheid agenda.

*The opinions expressed in this article does not necessarily reflect the views of the newspaper.

DAILY NEWS