A growing dispute is unfolding in South Africa involving businessman Saki Sakhumzi Maghele and nearly four billion rand received by him through education contracts reportedly awarded by the Eastern Cape Department of Education.
A growing dispute is unfolding in South Africa involving businessman Saki Sakhumzi Maghele and nearly four billion rand received by him through education contracts reportedly awarded by the Eastern Cape Department of Education.
The article's author, Rabbi Sermula, raises the question of what society rewards. If you reward a farmer, fields become green; if you reward an inventor, factories are built; if you reward teachers, generations inherit opportunities. However, if you reward the intermediary for too long, eventually everyone stops thinking about how to create something and starts asking how to bill for it.
These revelations concerning Maghele will undoubtedly trigger familiar procedures: investigations, statements, denials, and promises of accountability that always accompany such situations. But the real story lies deeper than these headlines.
In our democratic journey, we have begun to confuse procurement with production. We have created an economy where access is more competitive than ability, where proximity to public money can be more profitable than creating social value.
An entrepreneur who builds a factory competes with one who builds connections. Increasingly, the latter type of entrepreneur receives greater rewards. When society generously rewards access more than entrepreneurship, it is not surprising that procurement begins to overshadow production. Wealth is now tied not to what is produced, but to who submits the invoice. The intermediary becomes more valuable than the producer, and the contract more desirable than the creation itself.
Everyone has a stake in money, but too few people have a stake in the product. Perhaps this explains why the figures no longer shock us. Millions have turned into billions, and billions have become just another piece of news in a new cycle. Corruption has inflated contracts, and this has led to an increase in our tolerance. We are so accustomed to extraordinary sums that they barely register over breakfast.
A society that stops being shocked eventually stops demanding better. South Africa suffers not from a lack of talent, but from a lack of incentives that reward production higher than proximity to power. Young people watch where wealth is created and follow that example. If the fastest path to prosperity lies through procurement rather than innovation, ambitions change direction.
There is another painful irony. This story concerns education, but not because classrooms have transformed or students have been inspired, but because education has become yet another market. The department meant to teach young South Africans how to build the future may instead be teaching them something else: that success belongs not to those who create value, but to those who gain access to it. No curriculum can correct this lesson.
Kevin Chaplin decided to leave a successful career in banking, despite reaching a high executive position in one of South Africa's largest financial organizations. However, this step was driven by a desire to fulfill a more significant calling, which has helped thousands of young South Africans find employment, start their own businesses, and gain hope through the work of the South African Ubuntu Foundation and the Amy Foundation.
Today, Chaplin serves as the Executive Chairman of the South African Ubuntu Foundation and the Executive Director of the Amy Foundation. These two organizations focus on promoting social cohesion and providing youth with the necessary skills for a successful life.
Reflecting on the decision that changed his life, Chaplin noted that he never stopped loving banking. He told IOL: 'I loved banking. What motivated me every day were my clients and employees, and the opportunity to change their lives.'
Nevertheless, after many years in the corporate world, he began asking a deeper question: 'I constantly asked myself: 'What would God want me to do on a larger scale?''. This question became the impetus for his journey, leading to his resignation from the board, the creation of the South African Ubuntu Foundation, and the subsequent saving of the Amy Foundation from closure.
The decision to save the Amy Foundation helped over 2,551 young people find jobs and supported the creation of 306 youth-owned enterprises. Chaplin discovered that despite democratic progress in South Africa, people remain divided along racial, cultural, religious, and linguistic lines.
Believing that interconnectedness between different communities is key to building a stronger South Africa, he spent a year developing what became the South African Ubuntu Foundation. Before its launch, he met with the late Archbishop Desmond Tutu to share his vision. Chaplin said: 'Arch, you tell the world we are the Rainbow Nation, but it is not true. Everyone still lives separately. No one truly steps out of their comfort zone.'
He left his position and founded a foundation to promote social cohesion, ethical leadership, and dialogue between communities. The goal was to break down barriers, unite people, accept each other, and help create a successful, vibrant society where everyone is respected, grows together, and builds a better world.
Just three months after launching the foundation, Chaplin faced another fateful opportunity. The Amy Foundation, then known as the Amy Bikhul Foundation, was on the verge of closure due to lack of funding. Instead of letting the organization disappear, Chaplin decided to take it over. When Amy's mother said, 'I have no choice. There is no money. I am going to close it,' he replied, 'No, I will take it on.'
Although he was offered to merge it with the Ubuntu Foundation, Chaplin felt that the organizations served different purposes. He explained: 'The Ubuntu Foundation is designed to unite business leaders and communities. And the Amy Foundation is for youth.'
Nearly two decades later, this decision transformed thousands of lives. The Amy Foundation grew from supporting just 100 young people with a staff of 10 to providing annual assistance to about 2,000 young people through educational programs, vocational training, mentorship, and employment programs.
Over 2,551 young people found employment, and 306 youth-owned businesses were launched with the foundation's support. Chaplin believes these achievements were made possible by patience, strong partnerships, and a dedicated team.
Unlike traditional training centers, the Amy Foundation prepares youth for workplace realities by combining technical training with life skills. Chaplin emphasized: 'We are not just a training organization; we teach attitude, punctuality, business ethics, business etiquette, life skills, and readiness for retail.'
He noted that these qualities have earned the trust of employers, many of whom now specifically hire graduates of this organization, knowing they are job-ready. Chaplin's philosophy is also reflected in his book 'CAN DO: Making the Impossible Possible,' which is based on the lessons of his personal and professional journey, advocating for resilience, leadership, and self-belief.
Chaplin advises youth to believe in themselves and not let anyone tell them they cannot achieve anything. He believes that success is built on honesty and relationships, as one cannot know how those relationships will help you in the future. For him, the greatest measure of success is watching how one opportunity can transform an entire family.
Acknowledging the ongoing problem of high youth unemployment in South Africa, Chaplin insists on the urgent need to bridge the gap between school education and employer requirements by equipping youth with practical skills, confidence, and career counseling. His plans include expanding the Amy Foundation's Youth Skills Centre in Rondebosch, Cape Town, as well as increasing the reach of the South African Ubuntu Foundation.
Expert Armstrong Williams examines the new race for Africa's critical minerals, analyzing whether these resources can help strengthen nations or, conversely, perpetuate conflicts, drawing on historical lessons to build a prosperous future.
History often repeats itself, albeit not in identical form. In the nineteenth century, European powers divided Africa for gold, diamonds, ivory, and strategic territories. The wealth extracted from African soil fueled industrial revolutions in Europe, while much of the continent remained poor, divided, and exploited.
A new phase of this struggle is underway today. The targets are no longer just gold or diamonds, but lithium, cobalt, manganese, graphite, platinum group metals, copper, nickel, and rare earth elements. These resources are essential for the functioning of electric vehicles, artificial intelligence, advanced defense systems, renewable energy, and the digital economy. The future of the twenty-first century will be built not only on oil but also on the minerals lying beneath Africa's ground.
The global demand for critical minerals presents an opportunity for Africa that may come only once. However, the competition for these strategic reserves simultaneously intensifies corruption, illegal mining, and geopolitical rivalry across various parts of the continent. The Democratic Republic of Congo is an example of both hope and warning. It possesses vast reserves of cobalt and other minerals vital for the global energy transition. Nevertheless, armed groups, illegal mining networks, and external interests too often profit, while millions of Congolese continue to suffer from poverty, instability, and lack of security. Mineral wealth has often financed violence instead of prosperity.
Africa cannot allow this to define the next century. South Africa holds a unique position in this discussion, as few countries possess such significant mineral wealth. The country holds some of the world's largest reserves of platinum group metals, manganese, chromium, and vanadium, which are indispensable for modern industry and future technologies.
However, the mere presence of resources does not guarantee prosperity. For generations, Africa has exported raw materials, importing finished products at a much higher cost. Ships left African ports with unprocessed minerals, which then returned months later as cars, batteries, airplanes, medical equipment, computers, and complex technologies. The profits from this process accumulate in other regions.
The highest-paying jobs, research laboratories, advanced manufacturing facilities, and most technological innovations often develop far from the original sites of mineral extraction. This economic model is no longer viable. Africa should not just mine the future; it must produce it. Processing, refining, and manufacturing mineral resources directly on African territory has ceased to be merely an economic goal—it has become a strategic necessity. Every processing plant built, every engineer trained, every battery assembled, and every production facility opened brings the continent closer to economic independence.
Achieving this goal requires more than just opening new mines. It demands stable governments, transparent institutions, reliable power supply, modern transport networks, world-class universities, technical education, environmental stewardship, and legal systems that incentivize investment while protecting local communities. Without these foundations, mineral wealth can turn into a curse rather than a blessing.
History offers painful examples: resource-rich countries sometimes fall into the trap of corruption, political instability, environmental degradation, and growing inequality. Economists call this the 'resource curse.' However, curses are not inevitable. Botswana demonstrated how diamonds can fund education, infrastructure, and national development provided there is proper governance. Norway transformed oil into one of the world's strongest sovereign wealth funds. These examples remind us that prosperity is determined not only by natural resources but also by the quality of the institutions managing them.
Africa now faces a historic choice: will foreign powers once again dictate Africa's economic future, or will African governments negotiate partnerships that create skilled jobs, strengthen local industries, encourage scientific innovation, and allow African entrepreneurs to fully participate in global supply chains?
This process should not devolve into a contest between East and West, China and America, Europe and new powers. It must concern Africa itself. Africa's resources must primarily serve the people of Africa. This does not mean rejecting foreign investment; international capital, technology, and expertise remain extremely important. However, partnerships should be evaluated not only by the volume of minerals extracted but also by the factories they build, the engineers they train, the technologies they transfer, and the opportunities they leave behind.
The minerals beneath African soil must finance classrooms, not conflicts; they must create laboratories, not refugee camps; they must shape industries, not dependency. The world cannot achieve the transition to clean energy, technological innovation, or long-term economic growth without Africa's critical minerals. This reality gives African nations an unprecedented lever of influence, but only with unity, transparency, and a long-term vision.
The first race for Africa enriched much of the world, leaving many Africans behind. The new race does not have to end the same way. History has given Africa another, perhaps its greatest, opportunity. The measure of success will not be the tons of lithium, platinum, cobalt, manganese, or rare earth elements leaving African ports, but whether future generations inherit stronger institutions, thriving industries, better schools, scientific achievements, and economies that transform exceptional natural wealth into sustainable human prosperity. Africa's greatest resource has never been what lies beneath its soil; it has always been the people standing upon it. If this century is remembered as an era of African rise, it will be because Africa discovered the true value of its people, its ingenuity, and its destiny. That is a wealth that will never run out.