"It's permanent brain damage” what every parent needs to know about FASD

Every week, children are born in the Western Cape carrying a diagnosis that cannot be reversed, medicated away, or outgrown. Fetal alcohol spectrum disorder — FASD — is caused by prenatal exposure to alcohol, and it leaves lifelong marks on the brain. The Western Cape carries some of the highest rates of FASD anywhere in the world.

On a conversation on Building the Nation, Bou di Nasie we sat down with Kayla and Shanice from Home of Hope a registered non-profit running a children's home, a special-needs school, and community support programs across the province.

What is FASD, exactly?

FASD sits on a spectrum. At one end are children whose physical features and developmental delays are unmistakable from birth. At the other are "higher-functioning" individuals who present well in early childhood only for the challenges to surface when they reach school age or adolescence: dropping out, depression, difficulty holding a job.

Because the central nervous system continues developing right through to the end of pregnancy, there is no safe amount of alcohol and no safe point in the pregnancy. "You might have one glass," Kayla explained, "and your child can still have effects and then people say, oh, my kid is just ADHD." That qualifier, just, is doing a lot of heavy lifting. FASD rarely travels alone: conduct disorder, mood disorders, and ADHD frequently appear alongside it.

FASD is caused solely by alcohol exposure in the womb not other substances.

The condition is lifelong. There is no cure, no medication that reverses the brain damage.

It is known as an "invisible disability" many children are misdiagnosed with autism or ADHD.

It is 100% preventable no alcohol during pregnancy means no FASD.

The Western Cape records some of the highest FASD prevalence rates globally. When pushed on whether official statistics reflect the true scale of the problem, Kayla was direct: "I'm certain the stats are higher. If you look at the justice system, if you look at our youth unemployment rate, it's evident. There's no denying it."

Part of the problem is that awareness campaigns have not reached the people who need them most. In one striking example, Kayla recounted taking a child to a clinic and being met with a blank stare: "They said, 'What is FASD?' And these are health professionals." When the health system cannot name the condition, it cannot screen for it, diagnose it, or support the families living with it.

"The cycle of addiction mixes with the DNA of the child. Unknowingly, the child becomes addicted to alcohol and when they're older, they start drinking. The cycle continues."

One of the most damaging barriers to early intervention is disclosure. If a mother does not tell her doctor or social worker that she drank during pregnancy, the child's presentation impulsivity, aggression, difficulty with abstract instructions can easily be filed under autism, ADHD, or conduct disorder. The diagnosis is not wrong; it's just incomplete.

To illustrate how concrete the thinking of someone with FASD can be, Kayla gave this example: tell a child to "take your clothes and go shower" and they might shower while still wearing the clothes. An instruction that seems obvious is genuinely abstract to them. In a prison cell, that same misunderstanding gets read as defiance with potentially serious consequences. "Our justice system," Kayla noted, "is not equipped to know how to deal with them."

Home of Hope currently cares for 25 children in a residential setting, alongside running a special-needs school and community outreach. At 18, residents don't simply age out. The organization recently opened a skills development workshop on its working-care farm teaching woodworking and practical trades so that young adults with FASD can contribute to the economy on their own terms.

Their "Living Life" program is equally hands-on: Shanice sits with young adults and works through budgeting, writing a CV, using public transport, and understanding bank charges. It sounds simple. It isn't an 18-year-old with FASD may be functioning emotionally at the level of a five-year-old, and socially at the level of a twelve-year-old. "They have a disharmonious profile," Shanice explained. "It's a mixed, mixed type of person."

The single most effective tool for a child with FASD, according to Home of Hope, is routine and structure. Consistency reduces anxiety, supports learning, and prevents the behavioral crises that often push families toward crisis services. Early diagnosis and honest disclosure dramatically improves outcomes.

Blame, when a child is diagnosed with FASD, falls almost entirely on the mother. That stigma keeps women from disclosing which in turn delays diagnosis, delays intervention, and compounds the harm. Kayla and Shanice were clear: the goal isn't to assign fault, it's to get the child the support they need. "We need to desensitize our communities to FASD," Kayla said. "If your child has FASD, that's okay. Accept what has been done and focus on how you can now support your child."

Mothers who drank during pregnancy whether through addiction, circumstance, or not yet knowing they were pregnant need therapeutic support too. Shutting them out of the conversation only widens the gap between the child and the care they need.

"Once you've put interventions in place, you cannot be hands off," Shanice said. "Every day, you as the parent or guardian need to make sure that child is doing what they need to do. It is exhausting."

But exhaustion isn't the end of the story. "Individuals with FASD are great," she added and that warmth was palpable throughout the conversation. The work Home of Hope does is hard precisely because it matters.

Home of Hope runs entirely on donations. Every contribution supports children living with FASD in the Western Cape.

Visit homeofhope.co.za

Giving a Voice to the “Forgotten Voices”: Understanding Addiction Through the Eyes of Families

 

During Child Protection Month, conversations around addiction often focus on the individual struggling with substance use. But behind every person battling addiction is a family quietly carrying emotional pain, stress, fear, and uncertainty.

In a interview on Bush Radio , Saadia Jackson Cassiem shed light on the realities families face when living alongside addiction and why their voices matter just as much.

With nearly two decades of experience in social work, addiction recovery, and family support, Saadia has dedicated her life to helping families navigate some of their darkest moments. Her work focuses not only on individuals using substances, but also on the mothers, fathers, siblings, spouses, and children who are deeply affected by addiction every single day.

From Chemical Engineering to Social Work

Interestingly, Saadia’s journey into social work was never part of the original plan. She initially studied chemical engineering before changing direction and pursuing social work at the University of the Western Cape.

What started as an unexpected career path eventually became a calling. Her first role at the Cape Town Drug Counselling Centre exposed her to the realities of addiction recovery. Later, while working at the Matrix Drug and Alcohol Centre, she began noticing something important: more family members were seeking help than the individuals struggling with addiction themselves.

This realization shaped the direction of her work.

Addiction Affects the Entire Family

One of the most important messages shared during the interview was that addiction never affects only one person. It impacts the entire family system.

Parents often arrive desperate for solutions, hoping someone can “fix” their child or loved one. But according to Saadia, recovery is far more complex than simply placing someone into rehabilitation.

She explained that families frequently experience: 

• Anxiety and emotional exhaustion
• Shame and stigma from the community
• Financial strain
• Health problems caused by stress
• Feelings of helplessness and isolation

Many parents blame themselves, wondering where they “went wrong,” while others fear judgment from their communities. This stigma often prevents families from asking for help early enough.

The Importance of Education

According to Saadia, one of the biggest challenges is that many families do not fully understand addiction or recovery.

There is a common belief that if a person truly wanted to stop using substances, they simply would. But addiction is far more complicated. Without proper education, families struggle to protect themselves emotionally and make informed decisions.

Saadia believes education is the first step toward healing. Families need to understand:

• What addiction actually is
• How recovery works
• What healthy boundaries look like
• How to support a loved one without enabling destructive behavior

She emphasized that understanding addiction helps families regain a sense of control over their own lives and environments.

Children Growing Up Around Addiction

The interview also explored the impact addiction has on children growing up in unstable environments.

Exposure to substance abuse, violence, trauma, or emotional neglect can deeply affect a child’s development. Saadia highlighted the importance of open communication between parents and children, especially during adolescence.

Rather than only saying “don’t do drugs,” she believes young people should be taught how to make informed decisions by understanding consequences, risks, and healthy coping mechanisms.

Creating safe spaces for honest conversations can help prevent substance abuse before it starts.

Who Are the “Forgotten Voices”?

Saadia refers to family members affected by addiction as the “forgotten voices.”

While the focus is usually on the individual using substances, families are often overlooked despite carrying enormous emotional burdens themselves. Mothers, fathers, siblings, and spouses frequently lose parts of themselves while trying to save someone they love.

Their pain is often invisible.

Saadia’s work aims to remind families that their well-being matters too. They deserve support, healing, and recognition in their own right — not only as caregivers to someone struggling with addiction.

A Message of Hope

For families currently facing addiction at home, Saadia shared an important reminder: you are not alone.

Healing begins when families recognize their own value and understand that their happiness cannot depend entirely on another person’s choices.

Breaking the silence around addiction, challenging stigma, and seeking support are powerful first steps toward recovery — not only for the individual, but for the entire family.

For support and assistance, families can contact Saadia Jackson Cassiem through her platforms under “Foundation Care.”

Contact Details: 

WhatsApp: 0659431213

FACEBOOK, INSTA: Foundation Care

By: AMY JOSEPH LOUISIA

Reimagining Ageing with Dignity: A Conversation with NOAH Director Victor Southgate

Today on Bush Radio’s Sakhisizwe, we had an inspiring conversation with NOAH Neighbourhood Old Age Homes Director Victor Southgate about how the organisation is changing the way we think about ageing in South Africa.

Founded in 1981, NOAH is a pioneering non-profit organisation that supports older persons over the age of 60 who are living on limited incomes. But NOAH offers far more than shelter and care — it creates spaces where elders can experience dignity, purpose, belonging, and hope.

Starting with its first home in Woodstock, NOAH has grown into a model that focuses on empowering older people rather than controlling their lives. Victor explained that NOAH is not a traditional old age home system. Instead, it provides support, guidance, and community while allowing residents to make their own decisions and maintain their independence.

At the heart of NOAH’s work is an Asset-Based Community-Driven Development (ABCD) approach. This means the organisation focuses not on what people lack, but on what they already bring — their stories, knowledge, skills, resilience, and relationships. NOAH believes older people are valuable community members who still have much to contribute.

The organisation’s work stretches across housing, healthcare, wellness, and social development. Residents contribute a small rental fee, reinforcing dignity and shared responsibility within the community. Healthcare support includes wellness programmes, assistance for chronic illnesses such as diabetes, healing programmes, group sessions, and hotline support for members in need.

Victor also shared how NOAH creates emotional support systems among the elders themselves. Members are trained to support one another and “hold space” for each other through difficult moments. One touching example is the friendship bench initiative — when someone is sitting at a bench, it signals that they may need someone to talk to, encouraging connection and care within the community.

The conversation also highlighted the importance of changing how society views older people, especially those living in poverty. Too often, elders are overlooked or marginalised. NOAH challenges this thinking by creating environments where older people continue to thrive, contribute, and inspire.

From projects in communities such as Khayelitsha to farming initiatives and wellness programmes, NOAH is showing that ageing can be approached differently — with respect, compassion, and community at the centre.

What NOAH is doing at the intersection of housing, health, wellness, enterprise, and community-building is more than social service work. It is a reimagining of what it means to grow old with dignity in South Africa.

Their work reminds us that older people are not problems to be managed, but assets, knowledge-holders, and community anchors who deserve care, respect, and meaningful opportunities to continue shaping society.

To learn more or support the work of NOAH, visit NOAH Neighbourhood Old Age Homes.

Please visit their website or reach out directly info@noah.org.za/ (0)21 447 6334. Every connection, every donation, and every conversation

By: Grizelda Grootboom

"Dare to dream": Dr Alicia English on giving Mitchell's Plain a voice. "The most powerful thing you can do for a place is believe it deserves to be heard."

 

She has spent nearly five decades in Mitchell's Plain not just living there, but building something inside it. Dr Alicia English is a journalist, editor, children's book author, and international award-winning social entrepreneur with 28 years of experience in publishing. She holds a professional doctorate in business administration and an MBA from the Institute of Social Entrepreneurship in Switzerland. But ask her who she is, and the answer she gives first is simpler: a mother, a community member, and a storyteller. We recently sat down with Dr English to talk about community journalism, the responsibility that comes with telling people's stories, AI in the newsroom, and what she would say to a young girl in Mitchell's Plain who wants to change the world. 

For Dr English, community work is not a professional commitment it is a personal one. She lost her husband to COVID-19 in 2021 and has since been raising three sons in the same neighbourhood where she grew up. That reality shapes everything she does. "I'm involved in a community that I grew up in, but I'm also being able to create something that my children can be proud of," she says. "They can be proud of their mom, but they can also be proud of living in Mitchell's Plain." With Mitchell's Plain turning 50 this year, that sense of legacy weighs on her. "What's the next 50 years of Mitchell's Plain going to look like? Hopefully my children would spend quite a number of years still here and what is that Mitchell's Plain going to look like for them?" Dr English launched her journalism career in 1998, choosing community newspapers over commercial media a deliberate choice she does not regret. When asked why, she does not hesitate. 

"People invite us into their homes and into their hearts. They trust us with their stories, their experiences, their memories the successes, but also the failures and the challenges." She is open about the tension between community journalism and the clickbait-driven culture of digital media. "Beyond that headline, it is actually somebody's life, somebody's experience. That is something we cannot take lightly. It's a trust relationship and we need to treasure it for what it is." Over her career she has edited across wildly different publications, a petroleum company's publication for pump attendants, The Big Issue magazine sold by street vendors and in each case the lesson was the same: "It's not about you. You have to understand who your audience is and what is important to them. Once you do that, you can communicate and connect in a way that they will continue to trust you." 

Dr English is pragmatic about artificial intelligence neither dismissive nor uncritical. "AI is here. It's not going anywhere. We can decide to use it as a tool effectively, or we can be like an ostrich and put our heads in the sand." But she insists on the journalist's responsibility to remain in control. She uses AI as a starting point for her own ideas, not a replacement for them and she is specific about how: "Put your ideas in, specify your tone, give context. And always, always ask AI to provide sources. Click on those links. Follow them. Verify where the information is drawn from." She raises a pointed example: ask AI to write about Mitchell's Plain, and it will likely surface only the community's struggles. "It tends to forget about all the greatness that also comes from the community." That gap between algorithm and lived truth is exactly why human editorial judgement still matters. "We as practitioners have got to ensure that we double-check our facts because you could end up destroying lives. You are not the tool or the fool being used by AI. You are the one who's in control." After losing her husband during the pandemic, Dr English left her editorial position and started her own publishing company this time focused entirely on children's books. What followed was the clearest expression yet of her philosophy of social entrepreneurship: identifying a problem and engineering a solution. The numbers are stark. 

Around 81% of Grade 4 learners in South Africa struggle to read with understanding. Approximately 43% of households have no books at all. "If I had my way, we would be publishing books that cost less than a loaf of bread," she says, "because I know as a parent if you put me in a bookstore and give me 500 rand, I'm going to think about milk and bread first." The real need for literacy resources, she argues, sits precisely in the communities least likely to be served by mainstream publishing. Her work through the Centre for Social Innovation and the Whitaker Peace and Development Initiatives extends this same logic: use entrepreneurial thinking to address community challenges, whether in literacy, access to services, or economic development on the Cape Flats. 

What she would tell a young girl in Mitchell's Plain Asked for a single piece of advice, Dr English offers three, each one a pillar of how she has lived her own life. 1.Dare to dream "I always dreamt growing up in Mitchell's Plain. I still dream big dreams. Don't let where you come from shrink what you imagine for yourself." 2.Believe that you can "It doesn't mean everything will come easy. But have confidence in yourself. Have goals. Believe you can reach them." 3.Find your mentors and never apologise for where you're from "It doesn't have to be a professor. It can be your mom, your teacher, your church leader. Reach out to people and ask for help. And be proud of who you are." 

To learn more about Dr Alicia English's work in children's literacy and social entrepreneurship: www.oliveexchange.net alicia@oliveexchange.co.za The Olive Exchange (Facebook) 081 593 3690 (WhatsApp)

Women Are Not Commodities, Human Rights & Social Justice

 A conversation with Nozizwe Madlala-Routledge, Executive Director of Embrace Dignity on prostitution, power, and the fight for a law that finally protects the vulnerable.

Every morning in cities across South Africa, children walk to school past women standing on street corners. They ask their parents questions. And too often, those parents don't know what to say. It is precisely this everyday silence this collective discomfort that Nozizwe Madlala-Routledge has spent her life refusing to accept.

A former Deputy Minister of Health, former Deputy Speaker of Parliament, and lifelong anti-apartheid activist, Madlala-Routledge co-founded Embrace Dignity in 2010, a Cape Town-based women's human rights organisation dedicated to confronting one of South Africa's most misunderstood forms of gender-based violence: prostitution.

Sitting down with Bush Radio during Human Rights Month. This is what she had to say.

"In every family, we come across these issues. It's better if families can talk openly together so that the children are empowered and can make informed decisions."

Most South Africans don't realise that the law criminalising prostitution dates back to 1957 the Immorality Act, passed during apartheid at a time when interracial relationships were themselves illegal. Decades later, its legacy continues to fall most heavily on those it was never designed to protect.

"The law victimises only those selling sex," Madlala-Routledge explains. "We find that it is women who sell sex who are arrested by the police, harassed by the police, who are made to pay a fine and a lot of the time, they have to go and sell sex simply to be able to pay that fine. They find themselves caught in the system and they can't get out."

This is total criminalisation: both buying and selling sex are illegal. But in practice, enforcement lands almost exclusively on women already pushed to the margins by unemployment, poverty, and structural inequality.

Embrace Dignity is not calling for things to stay as they are. Nor are they calling for full decriminalisation, which they argue would expand demand and normalise harm. Instead, they are advocating for what Madlala-Routledge calls "the equality law” sometimes called the Nordic Model, first passed in Sweden in 1999 and since adopted by Norway, Canada, France, and Ireland.

The principle is clear: decriminalise the selling of sex; maintain criminalisation for buying, pimping, and brothel-keeping.

"Those who are selling sex act obviously out of desperation should be totally decriminalised themselves," she says. "But not the sex industry. Because the harms are inherent in the system of prostitution."

The practical difference matters enormously. Under the current law, a woman cannot report abuse without incriminating herself. She cannot carry a condom without it being used as evidence against her. She cannot go to the police if a buyer refuses to pay, assaults her, or worse.

 

Madlala-Routledge does not allow the conversation to stay abstract for long. She describes a woman who came to Embrace Dignity's attention recently, her arms marked with injection sites from where two men had kept her captive in a garage for two weeks, forcibly injecting her with hard drugs.

"They inject these drugs and make them do things they would not do normally. Very abusive." The sex trade, she insists, is increasingly inseparable from drug trafficking and organised crime. "It thrives largely because it's about trafficking the drugs."

And then there is the corruption. Police find men and women together. The women are arrested. The men pay bribes and walk free.

"The police benefit from a situation of exploitation. The woman is being exploited. They can see that. And yet they take a bribe from the men, because men don't like to be exposed."

"A man says: I've bought you, so you need to do anything I ask you to do — even if it's violent. When money comes into it, this is when the violence comes in."

One of Embrace Dignity's core arguments is about where blame and shame are currently directed and where they should be. HIV statistics track women. Police arrest women. Communities stigmatise women. But the men who buy sex, carry infection, refuse condoms, and perpetrate violence remain largely invisible in the data and in public discourse.

"Nobody is looking at the buyers to say how many have HIV," Madlala-Routledge points out. "And yet we know that HIV is sexually transmitted. So whoever has it, passes it on."

The stigma, she argues, must shift. "Accountability and stigma must go to those who exploit them. And those who exploit them are those who buy them for sex."

A Court Case That Could Change Everything

The legal and political landscape is in flux. A case brought by SWEAT (Sex Worker Education and Advocacy Taskforce) calling for the full decriminalisation of prostitution is headed to the Western Cape High Court a ruling with potentially national implications. Embrace Dignity is opposing it.

At the same time, a government draft bill that included decriminalisation as a pillar of the national gender-based violence and femicide strategy was introduced and then quietly withdrawn.

"There's no political will," Madlala-Routledge says plainly. "Political parties need votes and they don't want to talk about this issue openly. And this affects women largely and girls. They are dying. And yet political parties are shying away."

For fifteen years, Embrace Dignity has held this ground insisting that prostitution is not a choice freely made, but a system shaped by poverty, violence, and demand. That women in the sex trade are not criminals to be punished, but people to be protected. That a law change is not only possible it is proven.

"There's absolutely no constitutional right for men to buy sex," Madlala-Routledge says, with the calm certainty of someone who has been saying this for a very long time. "Sex should be about a mutually equal relationship. When money comes into it, this is when the violence comes in."

Take Action with Embrace Dignity

Sign the CAPA Charter — the Coalition for the Abolition of Prostitution in Africa — and join a growing movement across the continent to end commercial sexual exploitation.

Go to embracedignity.co.za and become the change.

Sin and Salvation: The Story of Johnny Cash

There are artists who make music, and then there are artists who become music whose lives are so knotted with contradiction, pain, and faith that every song feels like a confession. Johnny Cash was that kind of artist. And now, his story is taking the stage at the Baxter Studio Theatre in a production that has been captivating Cape Town audiences for over a year.

Sin and Salvation: The Story of Johnny Cash runs from the 25th to the 28th of March 2026, and if the buzz is anything to go by, it's a show not easily forgotten.

How It Began

The production has an almost fittingly organic origin story. Director Nigel Vermaas explains that the whole thing began with Jamie Jupiter actor, musician, and lifelong Cash devotee. Long before there was a show, Jupiter was weaving Johnny Cash songs into his regular concerts, drawn to the music in a way he couldn't quite shake.

It was Jonny Blundell, a longtime collaborator who had worked with Jupiter on recordings, who first saw the potential. "You should really do a show around this," Blundell told him. "It's such rich material." From there, the pieces came together: a script, two more extraordinarily versatile musicians Sarah McArthur, whose voice Vermaas describes simply as "from heaven," and Daniel Franks, a powerhouse on bass who also plays the authority figures Cash constantly clashed with and eventually, Vermaas himself stepping in to direct.

"I always say don't let musicians act, generally," Vermaas laughs. "But this time, these musicians all act."

The Tension at the Heart of Cash

What makes Cash such compelling material isn't the music alone it's the man behind it. Here was someone who preached the gospel and wrestled with addiction in the same breath, who grew up in hardship and never quite left it behind, even as fame found him. Putting that on stage without it becoming preachy or worse, judgmental is a genuine creative challenge.

Vermaas describes Cash's faith as something communicated not through speech, but through song. A few specific songs carry that spiritual weight, while the rest of the show breathes with everything else Cash was: funny, dark, rebellious, and achingly human. "There are comedy songs, there are songs about murder," Vermaas notes. The show opens, pointedly, with Cash's famous Prison appearance a man performing for people society had cast aside, finding friendship with them.

Rick Rubin and the American Recordings

One of the production's most fascinating threads is the story of Cash's late-career renaissance. When producer Rick Rubin a man better known for hip-hop and alternative rock called Cash and told him his career wasn't where it should be, most people might have hung up. Cash didn't.

The result was the American Recordings series: spare, stripped-down albums where Cash sat with a guitar and sang his own songs, folk songs, spirituals, murder ballads, and compositions passed along by Rubin from the artists he knew. It was a reinvention that felt, somehow, like a homecoming.

In the production, Jonny Blundell plays Rick Rubin and the cast performs these recordings live. One standout is the old American Spiritual God's Gonna Cut You Down, which the company has recorded and which gives you a real sense of what wait in the theatre: raw, unhurried, and steeped in something ancient.

Worth Seeing

Sin and Salvation is the kind of production that reminds you why live theatre exists. It's not a tribute act, and it's not a jukebox musical. It's four gifted, multidisciplinary performers telling a story that still resonates about a man who lived loudly, sinned openly, and kept reaching for something he believed in.

It would be a shame to miss it.

Sin and Salvation: The Story of Johnny Cash runs at the Baxter Studio Theatre, 25–28 March 2026. Evening performances start at 8 p.m., with a Saturday matinee on the 28th at 3 p.m.

Done By: Jasnine Roberts

The School Placement Crisis in Western Cape: When Access to Education Becomes a Legal Battle

 

The School Placement Crisis in Western Cape: When Access to Education Becomes a Legal Battle

A conversation with education advocates on the front lines

With approximately 7,500 children still awaiting school placement for the 2026 academic year despite the Western Cape Education Department's reported 96% placement rate, families across the province are facing an urgent crisis. What does it mean when 4% of students are left behind? For thousands of families, it means constitutional rights violated, futures disrupted, and children at risk.

In a recent Bush Advice Program discussion, three education advocates shared insights from the front lines of this crisis: Abeada Van Neel from Eerste River Advice Office, Wesley Moodley from Centre of Excellence, and Ziyanda Mncono-Chaule (Sister-in-Law) from Banjatwa Magazi Attorneys. Their perspectives reveal a system struggling under pressure, administrative failures, and the human cost of delayed placements.

Understanding the Constitutional Right to Education

Section 29 of South Africa's Constitution guarantees everyone the right to basic education. Unlike other socioeconomic rights, this right is not subject to progressive realization, meaning it must be fulfilled immediately, without delays or excuses.

"This places a direct obligation on the Western Cape Education Department to actually place these children at schools," explained Ziyanda. "The delays and other administrative errors are never an excuse. These are children that have this right."

This constitutional protection is particularly significant because it applies to entry levels of basic education, ensuring that every child must be placed in school regardless of capacity constraints, administrative backlog, or infrastructure limitations.

The Reality on the Ground: What Advice Officers See

When parents finally arrive at an advice office seeking help, they've already been through an exhausting journey. According to Abeada Van Neel, "by the time a parent walks into an advice office for assistance, they have been everywhere. They have been to every school. They've been standing in long queues."

These parents are understandably frustrated, having spent time and money they don't have. Many feel they've failed their child, even though the failure lies with the system, not with them.

The Digital Divide Challenge

Wesley Moodley highlighted a critical barrier that often goes unrecognized: the shift to online applications. While parts of South Africa have migrated to online systems, this creates significant obstacles for families in marginalized communities.

"Realistically, on the Cape Flats, the Townships, not everybody can or is able to do online applications. People don't have data. People don't have internet. People don't have laptops," Moodley explained. He emphasized that more could be done at primary schools to assist learners and parents transitioning from grade 7 to grade 8, as "most parents need somebody to guide them, to walk them and to mentor them."

Legal Protections: What Parents Need to Know

When a child is turned away from multiple schools, parents have legal recourse. The Constitution is clear: a child cannot simply be told there's no space.

"The right to education means that a child cannot be turned away from school," stated Abeada. "The state has a duty to find a place for the child. Lack of infrastructure is not a valid excuse. The courts are clear."

Ziyanda emphasized that capacity restraints cannot be used as a defence against fulfilling constitutional obligations. The Education Department must make means for immediate placement, even if that admission is provisional while a permanent solution is found.

The Administrative Maze: Why Parents Get Lost

One of the most frustrating aspects of the placement crisis is how parents are sent from pillar to post. They go to a school and are sent to the department. From the department, they're sent back to schools.

As Ziyanda explained, schools should serve as the middle ground, approaching the department as an institution rather than leaving parents to navigate the bureaucracy alone. "The most degrading thing we are now witnessing is that the schools don't even open their gates as if these parents even pose a danger to these principals," she noted.

The Absence of Written Communication

Another critical issue is the lack of written feedback. Parents are told orally that schools are full, but the law requires written reasons. Schools avoid providing written documentation because they understand they cannot legally use capacity or administrative errors as excuses to infringe on this basic right. This leaves parents without evidence to challenge unfair denials.

The Overlooked 4%: Who Gets Left Behind?

While 96% placement might sound successful, it leaves thousands of children unaccounted for. The families bearing the brunt are typically the most vulnerable:

• Children from poorer communities and informal settlements

• Parents without access to online systems

• Grade 8 learners (high school placements)

• Students migrating from other provinces

• Non-South African nationals

Wesley pointed out that migration patterns aren't accounted for in planning: "Every year, there's a migration of students coming from other provinces into the Western Cape. Now, all of a sudden, we have to make place for students that were not part of that planning."

The Consequences: When Children Stay Out of School

The impact of delayed placements extends far beyond missed lessons. Wesley described the cascading effects:

"If the child is not in school, the child will most probably be recruited into a gang, and we don't want that," he stated, noting that in gang-affected areas and gang hotspot schools, parents worry about both their child's education and safety.

When a child enters school four months late, they're already at a significant disadvantage. They've missed foundational material, and the pressure to catch up takes a toll on mental wellbeing. Educators, already stretched thin, struggle to provide the extra support these students need, often leading to behavioural issues and eventual dropout.

Legal Action: When to Take It Further

When emails go unanswered and applications stall, Ziyanda advises parents to consider legal action. "They should actually apply at the high court on the grounds of discrimination," she stated.

Parents should document everything: application dates, reference numbers, email communications, and any counselling reports showing the psychological impact on their child. This evidence strengthens applications based on contraventions of Section 29 (right to education) and Section 9 (the Equality Clause).

"Once we communicate with the department to say that we are preparing an application that we're going to send to the high court, then the department seemingly always has a miracle. And there's always a desk and a chair available for the child," Ziyanda noted.

Community Solutions: Bridging the Gap

While waiting for systemic change, community-based organizations are stepping up to provide interim solutions. The Centre of Excellence, for example, houses students in the meantime, creating a school-like environment where children can come daily.

"We provide a space for them, and some of our volunteers will just assist them and get them and keep them in line, in tune, on beat. So when they go back to school, there's no hiccups or hurdles," Westley explained.

These organizations have also built working relationships with local education departments, helping to facilitate placements and safeguard both parents and children from potential legal consequences of keeping children out of school.

Systemic Issues That Need Addressing

The placement crisis reflects deeper structural problems:

1. Infrastructure Gaps: Areas like Bishop Lavis have 14-15 primary schools but only two high schools, creating a problem at the grade 8 level.

2. Flawed Application Systems: The online system is difficult to navigate, with poor communication channels and inadequate feedback mechanisms.

3. Overcrowded Classrooms: Some educators are teaching 56 students in a single class, indicating severe oversubscription in certain schools.

4. Lack of Planning: Migration patterns and population growth aren't adequately factored into capacity planning.

5. Poor Administration: Contravention of the Promotion of Administrative Justice Act (PAJA), with schools and departments failing to provide written reasons for decisions.

What Parents Can Do Right Now

If your child hasn't been placed in school, here are concrete steps you can take:

Be Persistent: Don't accept silence. If emails go unanswered, escalate to higher authorities in the department structure.

Document Everything: Keep records of all applications, emails, reference numbers, and dates. Written evidence is crucial for legal challenges.

Request Written Reasons: Don't accept oral explanations. Demand written documentation of why your child cannot be placed.

Seek Help from Advice Offices: Organizations like Eerste River Advice Office and Centre of Excellence have established relationships with education departments and can facilitate placements.

Know Your Metro: Identify which education metro (Metro North, Metro South, etc.) is responsible for your area and engage directly with them.

Consider Legal Action: If administrative channels fail, don't hesitate to pursue legal remedies through the high court on grounds of constitutional violations.

Document Psychological Impact: If your child is showing signs of distress, get professional counselling and keep the reports for legal substantiation.

A Call for Accountability and Change

The school placement crisis in the Western Cape is not just a statistical problem, it's a violation of children's constitutional rights with real, lasting consequences. As Ziyanda stated, "This is a pandemic. This is a disaster that needs to be held because people's constitutional rights are actually infringed."

The solution requires proper planning, adequate budgeting, consequence management, and accountability. There are qualified teachers waiting for employment. Infrastructure can be expanded. Communication systems can be improved. What's missing is the political will to prioritize this fundamental right.

Until systemic change happens, parents must know their rights and be prepared to fight for them. Community organizations must continue bridging the gap. And advocates must keep pushing back legally and publicly.

Because every child deserves a desk, a chair, and access to the education that is their constitutional birth right.

Get Help

If you need assistance with school placement issues, contact:

Eerste River Advice Office: Contact Abeada Van Neel (vanneelabeada484@gmail.com)

Centre of Excellence: Contact Wesley Moodley (Bishop Lavis) (admin@centreofexcellence.org.za)

Ziyanda/Sister-in-Law (Banjatwa Magazi Attorneys).