“Thank you for your application; however, we regret to inform you…” An email response no one wants, but young South Africans are increasingly receiving nonetheless. That is assuming they even get one, considering companies ghost more than Tinder users. I’m now 26 years old. When I first entered the job market, initially filled with hope and excitement, I was told to be patient and that six months without a response to applications was normal. While I had the privilege of leaning on family for support during my job-hunting days, many don’t have that safety net. And frankly, it shouldn’t be normal.
South Africa has an unemployment crisis. And its normalisation does not help.
What do the numbers say?
“Youth” here is defined as ages 15-34. They make up roughly 50,2% of South Africa’s working-age population.
According to Statistics South Africa’s Q1 2025 Quarterly Labour Force Survey, the unemployment rate for youth stands at a staggering 46.1%. Within that, for young people aged 15–24, that figure climbs to 62.4% – the highest of any age group. That’s nearly two-thirds of our youngest workers unable to find jobs. Overall, that is 4.8 million young people without jobs. Let that sink in.
These aren’t just numbers. These are millions of young South Africans – bright, ambitious, and willing – trapped in a system that keeps failing them.
As President Cyril Ramaphosa aptly said during the 2023 State of the Nation Address, “We cannot wait to provide the work that many of democracy’s children need.” Well, Mr President, we’re still waiting.
And now we’re being told that tertiary education doesn’t matter as much
For many in my generation, there was an unspoken social contract: go to university, work hard, graduate, and a job will follow. It’s a promise we held onto through late-night study sessions, unpaid internships, and countless student loan agreements. But for too many, that promise has become a cruel joke.
Among university graduates – the so-called “safe bet” – unemployment still hovers at 23.9%. So yes, your degree helps, but it’s no guarantee when a quarter of graduates can’t find employment. While it is undeniable that any form of education plays an essential role in equipping young people with the skills they need to thrive in the workplace, in the first quarter of 2024, only 9,8% of the employed youth were graduates.
In 2025, more than 4 million individuals applied for university nationwide, yet only 201,925 were enrolled. This glaring gap shows just how limited access to higher education really is—and how many young people are left without the chance to even try the “safe bet” of graduating.
This reality forces us to confront the bigger question: If education and degrees no longer guarantee a stable future, what alternative paths should young people pursue?
No experience? No entry
Nearly 60% of unemployed youth have no previous work experience, trapped in a cruel paradox: you need experience to get hired, but you need to be hired to gain experience. Round and round we go. Youth with even minimal on-the-job exposure transition into work at more than double the rate of those without, according to the 2022 Labour Market Dynamics report. The rate was four times worse back in 2017.
And it gets even harder if you’re a woman. In the broader 15–34 age group, 48.1% of young women are not in employment, education, or any form of training, compared to 42.2% of men. The barriers to entry aren’t just economic – they’re structural and gendered.
We can’t ignore the geography of this crisis either. In provinces like the Eastern Cape and North West, youth unemployment sits above 54% and 58.8%, respectively. In many of these areas, fewer than four in ten young people are even participating in the labour market (this means they are both unemployed and have abandoned their job search). This is what systemic exclusion looks like.
We often hear, “Just start a business,” as if entrepreneurship is a one-size-fits-all solution. While there is undeniable potential in youth-owned enterprises, especially in the digital and green economies, these ventures require capital, mentorship, and market access – things most young South Africans don’t have easy access to. Government programmes like the Presidential Youth Employment Initiative and YES4Youth show promise, but even they admit that the impact so far is limited and uncoordinated.
As noted in the 2023/24 National Youth Development Agency report, “Despite [government youth employment programmes’] significant potential, more resources and support are required to meaningfully address the challenges confronting South African youth.”
This crisis is affecting the next generation’s dignity
The truth is, this isn’t just a jobs crisis. It’s a dignity crisis. Long-term unemployment doesn’t just shrink your CV, it shrinks your sense of self. The United Nations Development Programme’s Human Development Report makes it clear: persistent joblessness contributes to stress, depression, reduced life expectancy, and in many cases, exit from the workforce entirely.
And yet, we’re still being told we’re not trying hard enough. That we’re “entitled.” But how can we be entitled to what doesn’t exist? We are not a lost generation. We are a blocked generation. Stalled at the starting line of adulthood. And this isn’t our fault.
So what now?
We need bold systemic changes. Public investment in education must align with industry needs. We need proper apprenticeships and internship pathways that give young people real experience. We need targeted support for rural areas and young women. We need functioning job placement systems and well-run employment services, not just another app that disappears when the funding dries up.
But above all, we need urgency. We need accountability.
When I was told I may need to wait a year to find a job, it was disheartening, but it didn’t seem like a crisis. Because for me it wasn’t. I had time. I had support. But that patience is a privilege. And today, we’re asking too many young people to be patient in a country that’s running out of time.
The greatest tragedy isn’t just that our youth are unemployed. It’s that too many are being left behind, and getting used to it.
Emma is a freshly graduated Journalist from Stellenbosch University, who also holds an Honours in history. She joined the explain team, eager to provide thorough and truthful information and connect with her generation.
COLUMN | South Africa’s youth are jobless — and it’s unacceptable
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“Thank you for your application; however, we regret to inform you…” An email response no one wants, but young South Africans are increasingly receiving nonetheless. That is assuming they even get one, considering companies ghost more than Tinder users. I’m now 26 years old. When I first entered the job market, initially filled with hope and excitement, I was told to be patient and that six months without a response to applications was normal. While I had the privilege of leaning on family for support during my job-hunting days, many don’t have that safety net. And frankly, it shouldn’t be normal.
South Africa has an unemployment crisis. And its normalisation does not help.
What do the numbers say?
“Youth” here is defined as ages 15-34. They make up roughly 50,2% of South Africa’s working-age population.
According to Statistics South Africa’s Q1 2025 Quarterly Labour Force Survey, the unemployment rate for youth stands at a staggering 46.1%. Within that, for young people aged 15–24, that figure climbs to 62.4% – the highest of any age group. That’s nearly two-thirds of our youngest workers unable to find jobs. Overall, that is 4.8 million young people without jobs. Let that sink in.
These aren’t just numbers. These are millions of young South Africans – bright, ambitious, and willing – trapped in a system that keeps failing them.
As President Cyril Ramaphosa aptly said during the 2023 State of the Nation Address, “We cannot wait to provide the work that many of democracy’s children need.” Well, Mr President, we’re still waiting.
And now we’re being told that tertiary education doesn’t matter as much
For many in my generation, there was an unspoken social contract: go to university, work hard, graduate, and a job will follow. It’s a promise we held onto through late-night study sessions, unpaid internships, and countless student loan agreements. But for too many, that promise has become a cruel joke.
Among university graduates – the so-called “safe bet” – unemployment still hovers at 23.9%. So yes, your degree helps, but it’s no guarantee when a quarter of graduates can’t find employment. While it is undeniable that any form of education plays an essential role in equipping young people with the skills they need to thrive in the workplace, in the first quarter of 2024, only 9,8% of the employed youth were graduates.
In 2025, more than 4 million individuals applied for university nationwide, yet only 201,925 were enrolled. This glaring gap shows just how limited access to higher education really is—and how many young people are left without the chance to even try the “safe bet” of graduating.
This reality forces us to confront the bigger question: If education and degrees no longer guarantee a stable future, what alternative paths should young people pursue?
No experience? No entry
Nearly 60% of unemployed youth have no previous work experience, trapped in a cruel paradox: you need experience to get hired, but you need to be hired to gain experience. Round and round we go. Youth with even minimal on-the-job exposure transition into work at more than double the rate of those without, according to the 2022 Labour Market Dynamics report. The rate was four times worse back in 2017.
And it gets even harder if you’re a woman. In the broader 15–34 age group, 48.1% of young women are not in employment, education, or any form of training, compared to 42.2% of men. The barriers to entry aren’t just economic – they’re structural and gendered.
We can’t ignore the geography of this crisis either. In provinces like the Eastern Cape and North West, youth unemployment sits above 54% and 58.8%, respectively. In many of these areas, fewer than four in ten young people are even participating in the labour market (this means they are both unemployed and have abandoned their job search). This is what systemic exclusion looks like.
We often hear, “Just start a business,” as if entrepreneurship is a one-size-fits-all solution. While there is undeniable potential in youth-owned enterprises, especially in the digital and green economies, these ventures require capital, mentorship, and market access – things most young South Africans don’t have easy access to. Government programmes like the Presidential Youth Employment Initiative and YES4Youth show promise, but even they admit that the impact so far is limited and uncoordinated.
As noted in the 2023/24 National Youth Development Agency report, “Despite [government youth employment programmes’] significant potential, more resources and support are required to meaningfully address the challenges confronting South African youth.”
This crisis is affecting the next generation’s dignity
The truth is, this isn’t just a jobs crisis. It’s a dignity crisis. Long-term unemployment doesn’t just shrink your CV, it shrinks your sense of self. The United Nations Development Programme’s Human Development Report makes it clear: persistent joblessness contributes to stress, depression, reduced life expectancy, and in many cases, exit from the workforce entirely.
And yet, we’re still being told we’re not trying hard enough. That we’re “entitled.” But how can we be entitled to what doesn’t exist? We are not a lost generation. We are a blocked generation. Stalled at the starting line of adulthood. And this isn’t our fault.
So what now?
We need bold systemic changes. Public investment in education must align with industry needs. We need proper apprenticeships and internship pathways that give young people real experience. We need targeted support for rural areas and young women. We need functioning job placement systems and well-run employment services, not just another app that disappears when the funding dries up.
But above all, we need urgency. We need accountability.
When I was told I may need to wait a year to find a job, it was disheartening, but it didn’t seem like a crisis. Because for me it wasn’t. I had time. I had support. But that patience is a privilege. And today, we’re asking too many young people to be patient in a country that’s running out of time.
The greatest tragedy isn’t just that our youth are unemployed. It’s that too many are being left behind, and getting used to it.
Emma Solomon
Emma is a freshly graduated Journalist from Stellenbosch University, who also holds an Honours in history. She joined the explain team, eager to provide thorough and truthful information and connect with her generation.
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