The tragic death of an on-duty police officer, killed in a drive-by shooting after his vehicle malfunctioned and stalled, is not just a senseless loss of life.
It is a glaring indictment of the systemic failures and inequalities that persist in our society.
This incident, unfolding in the crime-ridden northern areas, forces us to confront uncomfortable truths about resource allocation, socioeconomic neglect and the lingering effects of race-based policies in post-apartheid SA.
The northern areas have long been plagued by crime and underdevelopment.
These communities face a daily struggle against gang violence, drug abuse and economic stagnation.
Yet the resources allocated to address these issues remain woefully inadequate.
That a police vehicle — a critical tool for maintaining law and order — broke down in such a high-crime area is emblematic of a broader disregard for these communities.
The widely held belief that the northern areas are little more than a “crime-infested” cesspool often leads to one-dimensional interventions by authorities, regularly delegated to non-government organisations (NGOs) and focusing heavily on soft, non-impactful crime prevention strategies.
This approach creates a self-fulfilling prophecy: the label of criminality justifies underinvestment in education, infrastructure and job creation, which in turn worsens the poverty and despair that fuel criminal behaviour.
Without addressing these root causes, the cycle of neglect and violence continues, deepening the marginalisation of these communities and eroding public trust in state institutions.
This resource scarcity isn’t unique to the police force; it is a pervasive issue in areas historically marginalised under apartheid and, paradoxically, still neglected in democratic SA.
The government’s resource allocation seems to perpetuate a racialised hierarchy, despite its rhetoric of equality and redress.
The strategies used to address the injustices of the past now create the imbalances of the future.
The incident also shines a spotlight on the city itself.
Once a thriving industrial hub, Gqeberha has been in economic decline for years.
Job losses, failing infrastructure and stagnating economic opportunities are the hallmarks of a city which has been left behind.
Much of this stagnation can be attributed to policies such as Black Economic Empowerment (BEE) and affirmative action, which, while well-intentioned, have arguably worsened divisions and hampered economic growth.
By prioritising redistribution over capacity building, these policies have often left businesses unable to compete globally and created a skills vacuum.
In cities such as Gqeberha, this has translated into fewer opportunities for all racial groups, increased unemployment and growing inequality.
The lack of economic growth also means that government resources critical for policing and community development are spread ever thinner.
Political instability in Gqeberha’s city council has severely hindered the city’s ability to establish a coherent and sustainable economic vision.
The frequent changes in leadership, marked by coalition governments and the revolving door of mayors, create an environment of uncertainty and short-term decision-making.
This instability discourages long-term planning, disrupts the continuity of development projects and undermines investor confidence.
Without stable governance, the city struggles to implement policies which address its economic stagnation, infrastructure decay and high unemployment rates.
Instead of fostering growth, the focus remains on political survival and factional battles, leaving Gqeberha adrift in an era where decisive leadership and strategic economic planning are desperately needed.
The northern areas are a stark example of how socioeconomic neglect breeds cycles of violence and despair.
Communities who feel abandoned by the state are often forced to fend for themselves, resulting in the rise of gangs and alternative power structures.
In such an environment the police are not just outnumbered — they are under-resourced, demoralised and exposed.
The tragic death of 29-year-old Constable Callan Andrews is not merely a failure of logistics; it reflects a society that has deprioritised the very people tasked with protecting its citizens.
It is a preventable tragedy rooted in systemic neglect and misplaced priorities.
SA needs to move beyond race-based policies which focus narrowly on redistribution.
The country’s future lies in building capacity, investing in education, infrastructure and industries that create sustainable jobs and inclusive growth.
This can be achieved only if investments are made for impact and not for impression.
If the northern areas are to see meaningful change, the government must address the root causes of their decline.
This includes tackling gang violence head-on, equipping police with the resources they need and fostering economic opportunities which uplift entire communities.
It also means that when allocating resources, the primary focus should be on the impact achieved, rather than on the identity of the recipients.
On what should be produced and not on who the producer should be.
The death of Andrews should be a wake-up call.
It is not just a tragedy for his family and colleagues, it is a tragedy for all of us, a reminder of the cost of a society that fails to care for its most vulnerable.
The time for platitudes and half-measures is over.
If we are to honour his memory, we must demand better — better resource allocation, better governance and a better future for communities like those in the northern areas.
The societal problems that indirectly contributed to Andrews’ demise cannot be resolved through the normal representative political system.
Our representatives are quite comfortable with the current system and are therefore unlikely to drive change.
Additionally, these issues cannot be addressed through the protest politics of the 1980s, which were tailored to a specific problem at a specific time.
What is needed now is a newly envisioned grassroots movement centred on the sovereignty of the individual and individual rights, one which promotes a shift away from tribal, group-based politics.
Only then can we begin to heal the deep wounds of inequality and create a society where such preventable losses are no longer the norm.
Dr Claire Botha
*Independent Health Economist: London School of Hygiene and Tropical Medicine, UK
Born and bred in Port Elizabeth (Gqeberha), northern areas, now resident in Pretoria
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