Toyi-Toyi With Purpose: Protecting What We Have While Fighting for What We Need

 The toyi-toyi, a spirited and symbolic act of resistance, has long been woven into the fabric of South African protest culture. Its echoes in the streets are a call for justice, a refusal to remain silent in the face of oppression. For decades, it represented the fight for freedom, equality, and dignity under apartheid. But now, in our young democracy, we must ask ourselves: how do we channel this powerful tradition to serve our communities without causing harm to the little we have?

A Personal Note

As someone deeply connected to the Transkei, this conversation hits very close to home. I was born and raised in Cape Town, but my mother was from the Transkei, and she made sure we stayed connected to our roots by taking us there every year to visit our grandparents. During my younger years, I lived with my grandparents in the village, and those experiences shaped much of who I am today. I've chosen to settle and build my home in the Transkei because of this deep connection to the land of my ancestors. I also grew up as part of the struggle against apartheid, and I know firsthand what it means to feel invisible to the people in power.

My mother was a single parent who worked as a tea girl at a bank, and though we struggled, I was never ashamed. We lived in the shacks of Khayelitsha, where access to even basic necessities was a challenge. I grew up in poverty, and while we didn’t have much, my mother’s resilience kept us going. I remember the hunger, the pain of walking into classrooms without proper shoes, and the weight of watching my mother work tirelessly to provide for us. Because of this, I deeply empathize with the frustrations that fuel the toyi-toyi. When we march, when we chant, when we demand, it’s because we know what it means to live without—without jobs, without basic services, without dignity. But what I’ve also learned, through my journey from those humble beginnings to where I stand now, is that destruction rarely builds anything lasting. Burning down a school or looting a business won’t change the circumstances that force us to protest. If anything, it makes them worse. And I say this not as an outsider looking in, but as someone who grew up feeling the same desperation and anger.

The Consequences of Destructive Protest

In rural towns of the Eastern Cape, where resources are already scarce, destructive toyi-toying often leaves our people worse off. Burning schools, clinics, and municipal offices only deepens the cycles of poverty and neglect. These facilities are not the properties of distant, disconnected leaders living in gated communities; they are lifelines for us and our children. Every library destroyed, every school vandalized, and every road blocked is another hurdle for future generations.

But the consequences go beyond the immediate damage. Destructive protests make it harder to attract businesses and investors to our areas. Companies are hesitant to invest in regions where their property and staff could be at risk during unrest. This creates a devastating Catch-22: protests are often about a lack of jobs and opportunities, but destructive actions scare away the very businesses that could provide those jobs.

Without businesses paying taxes and employing people, the government’s ability to deliver services like healthcare, education, and infrastructure shrinks. A smaller tax base means fewer resources for the things we desperately need. In the long run, this cycle leaves us with fewer opportunities, more unemployment, and deeper frustrations—feeding into the very conditions that spark protests in the first place.

Fighting for Opportunities

Our focus as communities should shift toward fighting for opportunities that build rather than destroy. We need jobs, better schools, improved healthcare, and reliable public services—but we must also recognize that these things come at a cost. The government cannot carry the full weight of development, especially as tax revenues are stretched thin. We must fight not only for government accountability but also for the kind of economic environment that attracts investment and growth.

Rather than destroying infrastructure, we should be advocating for opportunities that uplift our communities. Better roads, schools, and clinics are not just government responsibilities; they are also investments that attract businesses and improve the quality of life for everyone. Instead of demanding handouts, we should be demanding the tools and opportunities to create wealth and sustainability in our regions.

A Better Way to Toyi-Toyi

Protesting does not have to mean destruction. Toyi-toyi can still be a vibrant expression of our demands and frustrations without leaving lasting scars on our communities. Here’s how we can toyi-toyi more effectively:

1. Identify the Targets: Focus protests on the individuals and institutions responsible for the grievances. March to government offices, not local schools or clinics. Take the message directly to those in power.
2. Protect Community Assets: Make it a rule that no public property is damaged during protests. Schools, clinics, libraries, and even roads are not the enemies—they are ours to protect.
3. Engage in Dialogue: Use toyi-toying as a way to bring attention to demands, but follow it up with constructive engagement. Submit petitions, attend council meetings, and hold leaders accountable through organized structures.
4. Educate Protesters: Teach communities about their rights, the role of voting, and the importance of protecting community assets. Empowering people with knowledge is just as powerful as marching in the streets.
5. Leverage Media and Advocacy: Use platforms like radio, newspapers, and social media to amplify your voice. A well-documented and widely shared protest can sometimes achieve more than a thousand burned tires.

Building Instead of Destroying

Our ancestors fought hard for the land we stand on today, and it is our responsibility to nurture it for future generations. The Transkei’s beauty and potential lie in its people, its land, and its culture. Every time we destroy a piece of it, we take a step backward.

We must also remember that sustainable progress requires a partnership between the government, businesses, and communities. If we want better schools, hospitals, and roads, we must create an environment where businesses can thrive. This means stability, safety, and a shared commitment to growth.

I know the pain of struggle. I know what it’s like to feel left behind by those in power. But I also know that destruction is not the answer. We must channel our frustrations into action that builds, rather than tears down. We owe it to ourselves, to our parents who sacrificed so much, and to our children who deserve better.

Let us remember that building is harder than destroying, but it is also far more rewarding. Toyi-toyi can be an act of building—it can build awareness, solidarity, and momentum for change. But it starts with us recognizing that we have the power to demand better without tearing down what little we have.

Let’s toyi-toyi with purpose. Let’s make our voices heard without silencing the future. Let’s demand without destroying. Together, we can create a Transkei that thrives, not just survives.

By MamaDee Builds a House,