YOUTH VOICES | We must ensure next generation inherits future worthy of past sacrifices

Jayden Prince, 23

Born in KuGompo City, lives in Johannesburg

My mother was born five months after the June 16 1976 Soweto uprising (sorry Ma, I’m giving away your age).

She came into the world while SA was still grieving one of its darkest chapters.

I was born years later, into a democracy shaped by the courage and sacrifice of those who came before us.

At 23, I am part of the “born-frees” — young South Africans who did not live through apartheid firsthand.

I have never had to fear being beaten, arrested or killed for demanding a decent education, and I do not carry the same burden those students carried in 1976.

As SA marks the 50th anniversary of that painful moment, these reflections feel especially close to home.

On June 1 2026, I lost a dear friend in a car accident in Gqeberha. She was young, ambitious and full of promise.

Just two months earlier, she had graduated with a Bachelor of Education from Nelson Mandela University and had started her honours degree at the University of Johannesburg.

She was a gentle, committed teacher who still had so much life ahead of her.

Losing her reminded me how fragile youth can be. Behind every statistic are real lives, dreams and futures that matter.

As I grieve, I think of the many young South Africans whose potential is cut short by violence, road accidents, substance abuse, poverty and unemployment.

I also think of the young people of 1976, whose courage helped build the SA my generation now calls home.

That is why I feel such a deep connection to the young people who stood up in 1976.

When I look at the images from that day and hear the stories of lives cut short, I think of how young they were.

They had hopes and ambitions, yet they faced bullets because they believed they deserved better.

I am fortunate to grow up in a home where I am loved, supported and encouraged.

My parents taught me the value of hard work and education, and I know that every opportunity I have rests on sacrifices made by earlier generations.

But not every young person has that same support or opportunity.

I was born in East London [KuGompo City] in the Eastern Cape, a province rich in history, culture and talent.

Every time I visit home, I see young people with huge potential sitting at home because there are no jobs, graduates with qualifications but no work, and families carrying the weight of that disappointment every day.

SA’s youth unemployment crisis is not just something we read about in reports … it lives in our homes and communities.

We all know a young person who is struggling to find work.

In many communities, including my hometown, drugs make that hardship even worse, quietly stealing young people’s futures.

I think of a young man from my hometown who once had so much promise, but whose life was slowly taken over by addiction, pulling him away from his family, his future and the person he used to be.

His story is a painful reminder of how easily potential can be lost, and how deeply families and communities carry that pain.

My mother was born five months after the Soweto uprising. I was born into the freedom that followed.

The question my generation must now answer is whether we will do enough to ensure that the next generation inherits not only freedom, but a future worthy of past sacrifices.