I live in a working-class community, surrounded by streets where gang violence, crime syndicates, and unsafe intersections shape our daily lives. This is not an abstract problem. It is the reality for families who wake each morning calculating which routes are safe, watching over children, and wondering whether loved ones will return home unharmed. Safety is supposed to be a right, but in communities like mine, it feels like a privilege reserved for others.
In South Africa, violence is often framed as a race or culture issue. Politicians point fingers at parents, blaming bad upbringing for the spread of gangsterism, as if we do not live with intergenerational poverty, trauma, and systemic neglect. These narratives are insulting, ignorant, and serve to mask the real problem: a political and economic system that has long abandoned working-class neighbourhoods.
Gang violence in our towns is not only about local turf. Syndicate bosses operate with impunity across racial and class lines. They run drugs, extortion, and illegal businesses while politicians and law enforcement either look the other way or respond only when images or headlines force them to act. Arresting street-level gang members without tackling the syndicates at the top is like mopping the floor while the tap is still running.
Power, Policy and Protection
This is where class politics enters the conversation. Decisions about policing, urban planning, housing, and transport are political choices. They shape which neighbourhoods are protected, which communities are blamed, and which citizens are left to survive under constant threat. Militarised responses, like the deployment of the SANDF to hotspots, make headlines and offer temporary relief. But they do not fix structural problems: poverty, unemployment, overcrowding, poor public transport, and limited access to education and healthcare. These are the conditions that allow crime to thrive.
Consider the recent N2 Wall proposal. The City framed it as a safety measure. But walls displace risk. They do not solve it. Blocking one road only pushes danger into other areas, often the streets where families live. Real safety requires visible policing, rapid response units, functional emergency systems, and investment in public infrastructure. Anything less is containment, not protection. It is structural violence dressed as policy, just like ignoring the root causes of crime while blaming residents for their neighbourhoods.
Global Lessons, Local Responsibility
Other countries provide lessons, but South Africa cannot simply copy them. In New Zealand, intelligence-led policing, early interventions for youth, and strong community engagement helped curb organised gang influence. Colombia and Brazil have tried combinations of law enforcement crackdowns and social programs targeting education, youth employment, and drug markets. In El Salvador, political will combined with coordination between police, intelligence, and communities brought previously untouchable gangs under control. These examples show that violence is not inevitable. The difference is leadership and a willingness to confront criminal networks at every level.
In South Africa, political will is inconsistent. Some parties claim to care about the poor while protecting elite interests. Others speak about law and order while failing to address the underlying conditions that make communities vulnerable. Party rhetoric during elections often emphasises identity or short-term security measures, ignoring the structural inequalities that produce crime. This is why political education matters. Knowing who benefits from policies, who funds parties, and which leaders prioritise the working class is critical for survival.
Disaster Is Not the Problem. Denial Is: Cape Flats Gang Violence
I see it every day. I do not sleep easily at night. I watch my street for gang activity or possible break-ins, checking on neighbours from inside my home. My adult children travel, and I only rest once they are back safely. This is life under structural neglect. It is impossible to talk about safety without talking about class. Political choices, funding priorities, and planning decisions have consequences that play out in our streets, our homes, and our families.
Elections, Accountability and Class Unity
The upcoming local government elections are an opportunity for residents to engage critically. All parties flock to our communities because of our majority working-class vote. This is why we must equip ourselves with knowledge, unite as a class, and ask hard questions. How will you tackle the root causes of crime? How will you protect working-class communities instead of pushing problems elsewhere? What is your plan for housing, transport, jobs, and youth opportunity? What are your plans for gender-based violence and child safety? Do your policies address poverty or simply punish the poor? Seeing through party slogans and empty promises is how we reclaim our communities.
We deserve more than temporary militarised deployments or symbolic walls. We deserve streets where children can walk safely, where families can sleep at night without fear, and where opportunities are accessible, not blocked by neglect or planning failures. This is not charity. It is citizenship. Safety, dignity, and equality are rights, not gifts from politicians.
Political education is survival because the personal is political. Talking to neighbours, sharing experiences, analysing party platforms, and holding leaders accountable is how we begin to shift power. While we still operate under the current electoral party-based system, we can unite as a class and elect ward councillors who live our truths, understand our realities, and share our hopes, dreams, and fears. Our streets, families, and futures depend on it.
Henriette Abrahams is a Community Activist based in Bonteheuwel, Cape Town and is also the chairperson of the Bonteheuwel Development Forum.


