“They say we’re free, but what does that mean when I still have to worry about walking home after sunset?” These are the words of a 20-year-old university student who speaks for many South Africans questioning whether the freedoms promised in 1994 have truly materialised.
Three decades into democracy, South Africa’s Constitution remains one of the most progressive in the world—promising freedom of speech, education, equality, and safety. But for many, especially the youth, these rights feel like distant dreams.

The Springfield Weekly Gazette spoke to young people, workers, and community activistsin Durban to ask: Is freedom just a word, or is it a lived reality?
“We’re still waiting on the promises” Mantombi Ngcobo, a street vendor at North Beach, believes the country is far from free. “Since we first started voting in 1994, there has been no significant change. Promises were made—housing, financial support—but none of it has taken proper shape. Some received RDP houses, while many are still without a permanent roof over their heads.
“Our country is not as free as it should be. Crime is still an issue, and inequality too. We still have homeless people sleeping on the streets, and tourism has gone down, which is hurting our economy and businesses. For a free country, we have too many challenges that still need to be addressed.”
Freedom starts within, but reality bites Dr Nadia Bernon, a gender-based violence activist, defines freedom as personal independence. “Freedom, for me, is the ability to do what I want, go where I want, eat what I want, and dress how I like without being criticised or needing anyone’s approval.”
She adds, “I live according to my own values. People will always judge you—whether you’re doing well or not—so I focus on learning from my own experiences and embracing each moment. Life doesn’t always unfold as we imagine it should, and that’s why I leave space for disappointment and manage my expectations.”
Yet, she acknowledges the broader context: “There is no freedom for those who lack access to basic services like clean water, electricity, food, and shelter. Your democratic freedom is your right—but so many are denied it. Real freedom is emotional, mental, and spiritual alignment with your true self, and having your essential needs met without discrimination or marginalisation.”
“We’re toy soldiers in the system” Mdu Hlongwa, a community activist from Lacey Road Informal Settlement, says: “Three decades into democracy, many still wonder if freedom is a reality or just a concept on paper. Poverty, inequality, and unemployment still plague our communities—especially in rural and disadvantaged areas. I feel unfree in my own country.”
“We, as Black South Africans, are not given the same opportunities as other races. We are just toy soldiers in the system.”
Hlongwa points to poor infrastructure, a lack of clean water, unsafe living environments, and limited economic opportunity as indicators that true freedom remains elusive. “Democratic policies were supposed to uplift the poorest of the poor, but only a few have benefited. The growing gap between rich and poor, youth unemployment, and high crime rates show that transformation has not reached everyone. Where is freedom then?”
“Freedom is having a voice—but many are silenced”
Miashka Ramprith, a Grade 12 learner from Reservoir Hills, believes freedom means being able to voice your opinions, live joyfully, express yourself freely, and experience liberation in all aspects of life.
She acknowledges her own privilege: “I have a roof over my head, food to eat, an education, a loving family, and I wake up healthy every day. In that sense, I feel free.”
But she’s also aware of the reality others face: “Many South African communities experience limited freedom due to economic inequality, poor education, and high youth unemployment. Crime, corruption, and poor service delivery strip people of dignity and safety. Even with political freedom, we still don’t have true equality or opportunity.”
Her ideal version of freedom? “A world without racism, oppression, or prejudice. Where everyone can express themselves freely and live without fear.”
“We are not free if we live in fear” Mary Walter (52), a car guard from South Beach, shares a grim view of post-apartheid life: “I do not think this country has changed since 1994. We do not have any freedom—as long as we have to watch our backs at shopping malls, on the streets, and even in our own homes, we are not free.”
She continues: “We are living in fear of being raped, robbed, or even killed by the very people who are supposed to protect us. To me, Freedom Day is no different from any other day. The government still has a long way to go. Durban alone is deteriorating, and nothing is being done about it. The leadership of this country has 99.9% room for improvement before we can truly say we are free.”
The verdict? From the streets of Durban to informal settlements and schools, the message is loud and clear: Freedom Day is a reminder of both how far we’ve come and how far we still have to go. While some enjoy personal freedoms, many are still waiting for the promises of democracy to translate into everyday reality. Until then, freedom for all remains a work in progress.






