Johan Rupert said what many on the Cape Flats have been screaming for years

For years, activists, community leaders, and residents of the Cape Flats have been shouting into the wind, trying to bring national attention to the gross inequality and racialised poverty that defines life in large parts of Cape Town and the Western Cape.

But our cries were often dismissed as partisan attacks, brushed off by the DA’s slick PR machinery and an elite commentariat too enamoured with “clean audits” and bougie aesthetics to engage with the brutal reality of working-class life. Now, suddenly, Johan Rupert—a billionaire industrialist and hardly a figure known for revolutionary rhetoric—has said what many of us have been condemned for saying for decades: the DA-led government in the Western Cape has created and preserved a deeply unequal society.

And this inequality, this deliberate neglect, is not a bug of the DA’s governance—it is the feature. Rupert’s comments at the recent Oval Table meeting were striking not because they were new, but because of who said them. He pointed to the Cape Flats, to the shameful social housing crisis, to the unlivable conditions of black and Coloured communities just a few kilometres from the glistening mansions of Camps Bay and Bishopscourt.

He acknowledged the disconnect between the DA’s curated image of governance and the grinding reality faced by the majority. As someone who grew up on the Cape Flats and has spent years working to document and expose these injustices, it’s almost maddening that it takes someone like Rupert to get people to pay attention. But here we are. And maybe, just maybe, now more people will start asking the right questions. Let’s be clear: Cape Town is the most unequal city in South Africa. That isn’t hyperbole—it’s statistical fact.

The Gini coefficient, a measure of inequality, is off the charts here. Entire communities are trapped in cycles of poverty, violence, and underdevelopment while a wealthy minority enjoys first-world standards of living. The city’s infrastructure, policing, transport, housing, and economic development overwhelmingly favour affluent, predominantly white areas, leaving the rest of us to fight over scraps. The DA, for all its branding about efficiency and governance, has mastered the art of doing just enough to claim progress while ensuring nothing really changes. They tout housing projects, but these developments are either slow-moving or suspiciously distant from affluent areas. They highlight service delivery statistics, but ignore how those services are distributed.

Try getting your waste collected on time in Hanover Park versus Constantia. Try catching a safe, reliable MyCiTi bus from Mitchells Plain. Good luck. And don’t get me started on safety. The DA loves to point fingers at the national government for crime and policing—rightly, in many cases—but what have they done to actively support communities living under siege? Ask the mothers who’ve lost children to gang violence if the provincial or city government has stood with them. Most will tell you they feel abandoned, patronised, or ignored altogether. What Rupert has done—likely unintentionally—is give legitimacy to criticisms long voiced by those of us who have lived experience of this inequality. It’s ironic, of course, coming from one of the richest men in the country. But perhaps that’s why it’s so powerful: when even a billionaire who benefits from the status quo says it’s broken, we can no longer pretend it’s just “populist noise.”

But we must not allow Rupert’s remarks to be co-opted or diluted. This cannot become another moment where elites pat themselves on the back for “finally listening” without actually doing anything. His comments must be a spark—one that ignites broader, systemic change and forces real accountability from the DA. Cape Town is not a success story. Not when the colour of your skin still determines the quality of your education, your safety, your housing, your life expectancy. Not when poor and working-class people are priced out of the city, pushed further and further to its edges—geographically and politically.

And certainly not when political leaders can so brazenly govern for the few while preaching about democracy and freedom. The DA has for too long hidden behind the failures of the ANC nationally to avoid scrutiny. But it’s time we stop measuring success by comparison to dysfunction. We need to ask: are all Capetonians truly being served? Are we building a city that works for all, or just polishing the parts tourists see? Rupert’s words should not be the final say—they should be a beginning. It’s time to build a new narrative about Cape Town and the Western Cape. One that centres the people of the Cape Flats, the farm workers of Ceres, the shack dwellers of Khayelitsha—not just the mountain, the winelands, and the waterfront. We don’t need billionaires to validate our reality. But if their voices can help expose a carefully maintained illusion, then let them speak. And let the rest of us keep pushing—louder, stronger, and together.

*Mayalo is an independent writer and commentator

** The views expressed do not necessarily reflect the views of IOL, Independent Media or The African.