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Education Inequality: Access without quality

- Noncedo Madubedube

I was at the recent 1976@50 conference in Soweto, bringing together former student leaders, artists, scholars, activists, and organisers to reflect on the June 16 uprisings half a century later. What has stayed with me is not only the archive itself, but the uncomfortable question that gnaws at me: What would the class of 1976 make of an education system where almost every child can enter school, yet almost 48% leave without the literacy, numeracy, and the opportunities needed to flourish in a post- school reality?

As we walked through the outside exhibition, Mama Mofokeng stopped before a map of Soweto. Pointing to the area she had lived in during that period, she recalled, and pointed to where the fires burned and how she could see the smoke from her home. "The memories are flooding back now," she said. In that moment, history stopped being something abstract that I use for my political education and became real, right next to me.

The children of 1976 marched against an education system legally designed to deny Black children a quality education experience, dignity, opportunity, and political agency. Fifty years later, we have defeated Bantu Education. We have built a single national education system. Millions more children attend school than under apartheid. The school nutrition programme reaches about 9 million children daily. No-fee-paying schools have expanded access for poor and working-class families. These are real democratic achievements that should not be dismissed.

But hold on…. With all this said, our education system remains deeply unequal. We have largely won the battle for access while struggling to win the battle for quality and equality. Where a child is born, the language they speak, their family's income, and the province in which they live still determine the quality of education they receive. South Africa has not one education system, but effectively two: one that works reasonably well for a minority and another that continues to fail many working-class and poor learners. This is not a system that failed. This is a system working as designed by the inequalities it inherited from Bantu Education and never structurally resolved. Instead, we now witness the ongoing fiscal austerity agenda, slashing education budgets, compounding the effects for ill-resourced schools.

The evidence is stark. 81% of South African children cannot read for meaning by the fourth grade. Foundational literacy and numeracy deficits accumulate throughout primary school, then explode into mass school dropout rates and constrained life chances in the higher grades.

In an intergenerational conversation with one of the conference contributors, Dinga Sikwebu, I was reminded that 1976 was never simply about language policy. It was about power, dignity, and the right of young people to shape their futures. And today, I believe that the struggle against educational inequality must therefore be understood in similarly broad terms. A child who attends school hungry, lives in a community stressed by mass unemployment, water insecurity, intersectional violence, climate disaster, and cannot read for meaning by the fourth grade is confronting a crisis that extends beyond the classroom.

For me, the answer cannot simply be access to schooling. It must be access to quality education, meaningful learning, and a society capable of translating education into dignity, participation, and economic justice. The unfinished struggle of the class of 1976 is not merely getting children into schools. It is ensuring that education remains a pathway to freedom rather than another mechanism through which inequality reproduces itself across generations

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