Black-on-Black violence: SA's unspoken crisis - Fanie Bouwer

Key topicsKZN police chief breaks silence on black-on-black violent crimeUbuntu ideals clash with township murder realitiesCall for truth, reform, and community-led healing initiatives.Sign up for your early morning brew of the BizNews Insider to keep you up to speed with the content that matters. The newsletter will land in your inbox at 5:30am weekdays. Register here.Support South Africa’s bastion of independent journalism, offering balanced insights on investments, business, and the political economy, by joining BizNews Premium. Register here.If you prefer WhatsApp for updates, sign up to the BizNews channel here.The auditorium doors will open for BNIC#2 on 10 September 2025 in Hermanus. For more information and tickets, click here..By Fanie Bouwer.Recently, Lieutenant- General Nhlanhla Mkhwanazi, the KwaZulu-Natal provincial police commissioner, made a rare and courageous admission. Speaking at a crime summit, he said:"You forgive me on this, this is not me talking, these are the stats. We have a problem of a black man in South Africa; we have a serious problem."His remark sent shockwaves through the country; not only because of what he said, but because he said it publicly. He voiced something that few dare to articulate: that much of South Africa’s violent crime is committed by black South Africans, against other black South Africans.Critics were quick to condemn his words. Others praised them as a long-overdue truth. Some saw in them a cry for deeper community responsibility. Regardless of how one interprets his statement, it sparked a national conversation, one we can no longer avoid.As an ex-senior police officer who has long wrestled with this issue, I again turned to the available research. Why, in the modern age - three decades into a democracy built on human rights and the spirit of Ubuntu - does such brutal violence persist?It is a crisis that defies the narrative. So many scholars have attributed South Africa’s violence to the legacy of colonialism, apartheid, structural inequality, humiliation, and dispossession. These explanations held particular weight in 1994, as the country transitioned to democracy. But today, in 2025, the question must be asked: Can these same arguments fully explain our ongoing crisis of violence?We now live in an era that celebrates Ubuntu - the African philosophy that declares, “a person is a person through other people.” It emphasizes humanity, empathy, mutual care, and dignity. But despite this, ubuntu has delivered little more than a symbolic promise. The ideals of unity and compassion have not translated into lived safety for many of our communities.I worked as a young policeman Transkei some decades ago and peaceful coexistence was the norm. South Africa’s present violent crime rates have been a national emergency for many years now. But, one form of violence that remains underreported and underexamined, is black-on-black violence.In townships across the country, brutal acts of violence occur daily, contributing significantly to the roughly 70 murders per day. Yet, until Mkhwanazi’s remarks, this phenomenon remained largely unspoken in public discourse, political debates, and mainstream media.Why has this deeply uncomfortable issue been so widely ignored? I think it was unfair towards our black folks.Academics, researchers, and journalists often avoid addressing it directly. They may cite broader social causes, e.g. poverty, inequality, state failure, but rarely confront the specific and disproportionate violence within black communities themselves. Instead, the discussion skirts around the edges.Some point to the bloody factional violence of the 1980s - between ANC supporters, Inkatha, and others - as the origin of ongoing cycles of trauma and revenge. These conflicts certainly left deep scars, especially in KwaZulu-Natal and parts of Gauteng.But can that history alone explain the persistence of deadly violence, across all provinces, 40 years later? Unlikely, I would suggest.What has changed is the nature of the violence. In the democratic era, it has become more individual, more criminal, more intimate, fuelled by social breakdown, not political ideology.South Africa’s dire unemployment crisis adds fuel to this fire. According to the Quarterly Labour Force Survey (Q1 2025), the official unemployment rate now stands at 32.9%, while the rate among youth (ages 15–24) has reached 62.4%.In such conditions, it’s not surprising that many young men, feeling hopeless and excluded, turn to armed robbery, hijackings, and theft in order to get money, often escalating into murder. The link between poverty and crime is well-known, but that doesn’t fully explain the levels of other lethal violence.The causes are layered and complex: broken families, alcohol and drug abuse, poor education, overburdened policing, and systemic failure all play a role. Some of these are legacies of the past, but many are failures of the present.Still, few are willing to name this specific crisis for what it is - perhaps out of fear it could undermine dominant political narratives, or be misunderstood as racist rhetoric. But I would argue the cost of silence is measured in human lives.Many black communities now live under siege. Mothers in townships and rural KZN speak of burying their sons more often than celebrating their birthdays. A culture of fear, trauma, and normalized violence has become endemic.With little faith in law enforcement, communities sometimes turn to vigilante justice and street retribution, which only breeds more bloodshed.Solutions must begin with honest diagnosis. We must name the problem if we hope to solve it. We must acknowledge what the statistics so clearly show.This is not an attack on our black South Africans. It is a plea for truth, accountability, and healing - for those most affected by the violence. What do we need? * Community programs and restorative justice * Educational initiatives that teach values, not just skills * Improved policing, with trust between the SAPS and communities * Stronger family and social structures * Acknowledgement and brave leadership from political and faith leaders, who must speak the truth - even when it is uncomfortable * Voices from within black communities (e.g., NGOs, pastors, mothers, social workers) are essential to show that it’s not only a policing issue, but a social one. Black-on-black violence is not a taboo. It is a national emergency. The silence must end. The truth must be spoken - just as General Mkhwanazi dared to speak it. This article is an invitation: to confront reality, to reject denial, and to begin the hard work of acceptance and renewal, together.

Black-on-Black violence: SA's unspoken crisis - Fanie Bouwer

Key topics

Related Stories