Indians are equal partners in South Africa’s destiny

NOVEMBER 16 marks the anniversary of the arrival of Indians in South Africa. On this date in 1860, the first ship, the SS Truro, arrived in Durban carrying indentured laborers from India. In 2025, the 165th anniversary is being commemorated and across the country Indian South Africans stand at a decisive moment in our history. 

We are a community rooted in struggle yet sustained by dignity, discipline and an unyielding belief in education and self-improvement. We are the descendants of indentured labourers who arrived with nothing but hope, traders who carved out livelihoods in the face of discrimination, and freedom fighters who stood firm for a democratic South Africa. Our story is one of overcoming the odds, but that resilience must never become an excuse for silence.

Today, we confront a new landscape shaped by economic inequality, crime, social fragmentation and a sense of political invisibility. Yet beneath the frustration I also see the fire of a people who have refused to surrender, who continue to build, and who ask only for dignity, opportunity and safety. As South African leader Ravi Pillay often says it is time to “reclaim our space”, to speak honestly about our challenges, and to chart a path worthy of our ancestors and our children.

Our community’s journey began in hardship. From the 1860s, indentured Indians laboured on Natal’s plantations under brutal conditions, while others arrived as traders navigating through discriminatory laws. Their greatest investment was education. Families pooled wages, built schools and insisted that their children study as if their future depended on it, because it did.

That ethic lifted an impoverished community into the middle class over generations. But these averages conceal struggle. Many Indian South Africans today live with economic uncertainty, unemployment, and precariousness. Youth joblessness is especially harsh. Countless graduates, bright, driven, qualified, send out CVs without response or take survival jobs far below their skill levels. Families who once imagined upward mobility now fear their children will have less than they themselves had.

This fuels another trend, emigration. Many young Indian South Africans leave in search of safety and opportunity. I do not judge them for going, but I mourn the loss. Every departure is a gap felt at our dinner tables, mosques, temples, churches and community halls.

And part of this frustration is political. At just 3% of the national population, Indian South Africans often feel unheard in the national discourse ‘too small to matter, yet large enough to be blamed’ officially considered historically disadvantaged, yet sometimes treated as privileged. This contradictory perception leaves younger people, in particular, wondering where they belong.

But we must also be honest with ourselves. Class divisions, subtle remnants of caste attitudes, and religious or cultural fragmentation have weakened our unity. The divisions imported from elsewhere, especially through social media and international politics, risk creating new fractures in a community that needs every ounce of cohesion.

We must guard against these forces. We have survived too much to become divided from within.

If there is one issue that cuts across class, faith and geography, it is fear. Families in Shallcross, Phoenix, Reservoir Hills, Lenasia, Stanger, Pietermaritzburg and beyond share the same nightly routine ‘lock up, check the gate, turn on the alarm’. The dread is constant. House robberies, hijackings, murders, these are realities people speak about constantly in WhatsApp groups and often through voice notes.

The surge in addiction, especially the heroin-based drug known as “sugars,” has devastated families. Every addict is someone’s child. Every theft to feed a habit is a blow to a community already under strain. Parents have sold their belongings to pay “drug debts.” Some keep their children locked in rooms because they cannot find affordable treatment. Families carry shame in silence, when what they need is support.

We must face another painful chapter, the trauma of July 2021. The unrest, looting and racial violence scarred KwaZulu-Natal and left deep wounds between Indian and Black communities. The deaths, the fear, the anger, the stereotypes reinforced in those days must be confronted with courage and compassion. Healing is not optional, it is necessary for our safety and for our humanity.

Crime cannot be fought with fear or racism, nor through vigilantism. It must be confronted through unity, community organisation, effective policing, and social support. Historic successes - when communities worked with honest officers, shut down drug dens and reclaimed neighbourhoods - show that collective action works. We can do it again, but only if we stand together and reject the forces that profit from our fear.

Education has always been our shield and our ladder. Even in apartheid’s harshest days, parents insisted that their children study, pushing them to become the doctors, teachers, engineers and entrepreneurs who transformed the community.

But today, working-class families struggle with overcrowded schools, declining infrastructure, and limited access to quality teaching. University students face financial barriers, especially when funding delays or administrative failures leave them hungry, academically stranded, or unable to register. These students are the next chapter of our community’s story and they deserve more than bureaucratic obstacles.

Education must also evolve. The future belongs not only to lawyers and doctors but to artisans, coders, technicians, entrepreneurs, designers and creators. We need mentorship circles in every suburb and township, alumni networks that uplift, bursary funds at every mosque, temple, and church, and a renewed culture of excellence rooted in ubuntu.

We must restore the pride of learning, and ensure our youth know that their community stands firmly behind them.

For many Indian families, home is still a crowded flat or a small house shared across generations, a legacy of apartheid planning. Decades-old rental units in areas like Chatsworth, Phoenix and Northdale are deteriorating, while waiting lists for new housing lengthen. Some families still live in “temporary” structures that became permanent due to government inaction.

Infrastructure is failing. Water cuts, electricity outages, broken pipes and delayed repairs deepen a feeling of neglect. Hospitals in our areas carry immense patient loads with stretched resources. Elderly people queue at dawn for medication. Parents wait hours for basic healthcare for their children. These conditions erode dignity.

Community organisations often fill the gaps. The Nelson Mandela Community Youth Centre in Chatsworth for instance, offers feeding schemes, homework clubs, disability support groups, these organisations represent the best of us. They show that while the government has a duty, we too carry a responsibility to one another.

Seva, ‘selfless service’, is a principle embedded across Indian culture and perfectly aligned with ubuntu. Now is the time to live it again, not only as charity but as empowerment, dignity-building, and collective strength.

Indian South Africans have never asked for special treatment - only fairness, safety and opportunity. We are loyal South Africans who have contributed immeasurably to the economy, culture, public service, academia and the liberation struggle. Our future need not be one of fear, invisibility or fragmentation.

We stand at a crossroads, but also at a moment of possibility.

To move forward, we must rebuild unity across class, religion, and generation. Confront crime and addiction with courage, compassion, and collective action. Demand accountable governance without fear or favour. Invest in education and mentorship to secure the future of our youth. Restore dignity through housing, healthcare, and community upliftment. Heal the wounds of 2021 and recommit to building bridges with our Black neighbours.

Our grandparents survived the plantation, the pass law, the Group Areas Act, and apartheid’s crushing weight. They gave us a foundation built on sacrifice. Now, we must build the future.

This is our moment to claim our space, not at the margins, not in silence, but as full and equal partners in South Africa’s destiny.

And when we do, we honour not only our past, but the generations yet to come.

Vedan is a lawyer and human rights advocate