For the most part, 2022 has been another year that has undermined confidence.
No matter which branch you fall into in our disparate society, there has been its fair share of sadness to pass on. Whether it is the burden reduction that has been the worst since it all began back in December 2007, or an inflationary mistake that has sent the price of basic food items skyrocketing for the most vulnerable, and the cost of a mortgage or vehicle financing increases for the richest.
Economically, we are still a small ship adrift, admittedly in a global economy that does not inspire confidence. The conversation about the recession is still very frequent internationally. South African companies like Sibanye Stillwater pay their executives hundreds of millions of rand and seek to invest their profits in developed countries like Finland and Canada in the case of Gold Fields. Deny all you want, the investor strike continues because its shareholders remain as skeptical of this country as ever. Our risk is best reflected in the reports of the three international rating agencies (Moody’s, Standard & Poor’s and Fitch) and this trinity are the shapers of bondholder sentiment, the true masters of the universe.
There are no good stories to tell in our political arena, with the recent ANC election conference not inspiring a sense that next year will be better than years past.
We carried this feeling of foreboding for many years, to quote one of the witches in Shakespeare’s Macbeth “…something bad is coming this way.” Every editorial written over the past decade in most newsrooms to mark the end of a year conveys this sentiment.
What it does, however, is weigh the prospects for our country because, without trust, it is an almost impossible task to change the fortunes of more than 60 million South Africans.
We haven’t felt lucky often, but it has been our protection against our worst inclinations, as was evident last weekend when leaders of the Kwazulu-Natal branch of the ANC, which sounds more and more like a nationalist lobby Zulu, they failed to get even one of their favorite “Zulu” candidates into the highest echelons of power. That is diversity at work: rejecting ethnic nationalism and perhaps the only good story to emerge from the ANC deliberations this week. But I digress.
There is still little confidence to be found in the context of a country facing the sixth phase of load reduction that has us a hair’s breadth away from Armageddon, a total blackout, in the minds of many.
The GNF/BER consumer confidence index has been in negative territory for 14 quarters, since mid-2019, which is the longest since records began in 1982 – a depressed consumer by all measures.
Business confidence, critical to the revitalization of the broader economy and to our employment prospects, is also at a standstill due to uncertain economic policy, a central feature of the state since the advent of an economic planning ministry led by Ebrahim Patel in 2009. ., and its overdue consolidation back into the department of trade and industry, still headed by Patel, which he micromanages.
An incoherent and disjointed response to our economic problems is seen in most state affairs, the most important being education and health. Being hopeful and optimistic about our prospects feels like a fruitless endeavor.
George Constanza, one of the central characters of the biggest sitcom, Seinfeldbest captures our national mood as we head off on vacation and contemplate what awaits us in 2023.
“I don’t want hope. Hope is killing me. My dream is to become desperate. When you can’t help it, you don’t care, and when you don’t care, that indifference makes you attractive.” It’s funny on a dating level. Indifference may well be attractive in the short term for a blind potential partner, but for a country it is none of the above.
Rather it is cancerous. Indifference to the affairs of your neighborhood, township or suburb, town or city and your country poisons any chance of its rebirth. We cannot afford to be indifferent, difficult as it may be. We must hold out hope to build a better country and, in turn, Africa. And what hope requires is a measure of discipline. A state of hopelessness fosters the July 2021 protests and the rise of bad political actors with their bad, sponsored political decisions.
So where do we find hope in a country that seems to have so little left? It is not in our political arena. The results of the ANC elective conference, where politics once again took a step back on personality clashes, is where we can look no further for lines of hope. It is a party in decline as it heads into its 30th year of power. We shouldn’t get infected with the poison they consumed these past five days.
Mother Teresa said: “I alone cannot change the world, but I can throw a stone on the water to create many ripples.” This country is full of people creating good vibes.
These people are our neighbors, our direct community, those at our places of worship, work and schools, and non-profit organizations. To him mail and guardianthe mantra of Building a Better Africa, we will tell more of these stories. They may not grab the headlines, but they will highlight your role in advancing the country without seeking fortune and fame.
With a compromised government and too many well-paid bosses and not enough workers, we must reach out to those around us, those who inspire others but receive little recognition, who go around quietly doing what needs to be done. These are the people you won’t find at Ted Talks or in Parliament. We’ll find them in our schools and offices, doing the things we all should be doing: picking up trash without being asked, cleaning beaches and testing seawater so we can swim safely; feed, clothe and house the destitute without expecting rewards, care for abandoned babies, comfort survivors of rape and other crimes.
These are the people who step in when government fails by its own admission, due to limited resources and a shrinking skill base – the heroes we are meant to salute every day. These are the people who deserve our attention, our loyalty, and our thanks for 2022, and our continued support in 2023.
This week M&G speaks to the people who carry us forward keeping hope alive. Hoping comes with its fair share of risk to anyone’s conscience and physical well-being. Here’s to our bravest who stubbornly tell us we’re not lost, even though the rust is building up and now visible to all. These South Africans are our heroes.
Ron Derby is the editor-in-chief of the mail and guardian
