From Stadiums to Communities: Rethinking Sport's Role in South Africa

Tswelopele Makoe

“Sport has the power to change the world. It has the power to inspire. It has the power to unite people in a way that little else does.”

These words by our first democratic President, Nelson Mandela, are as urgent today as they were when he first spoke them. As this football season unfolds — with stadiums vibrating with chants and the world’s gaze fixed on familiar stars — we are reminded not only of sport’s extraordinary capacity to unite and uplift, but also of its untapped potential to transform lives in places that the cameras rarely reach.

This season should be more than a showcase of global giants; it should be a call to recognise and spotlight the extraordinary, often unseen, talent that exists across developing nations — in villages, small towns, and remote communities where the spirit of the game burns brightly, even when opportunity does not.

From the Premier League to the Africa Cup of Nations (AFCON), this diski season presents not just a spectacle of competition, but a chance to rethink what we value and who we choose to see. Across the Global South — from the dusty soccer fields of rural Limpopo to the unpaved clearings of northern Ghana or coastal Kenya — thousands of young athletes may never be seen by scouts or recruiters. Not because the talent isn’t there, but because the systems of visibility, access, and investment simply aren’t.

Closer to home, this reality hits painfully hard. South Africa’s sporting landscape, for all its passion and legacy, suffers from a stark lack of infrastructure and imagination. The neglect of sport is written into the landscape itself: no proper fields, no safe playgrounds, no accessible community courts or public tracks. Instead, we’ve seen the rise of private gyms and boutique wellness spaces — exclusive, expensive, and far removed from the communal ethos that true sporting culture should embody.

We have normalised the privatisation of fitness rather than the promotion of an active lifestyle. And it is our children who suffer most, with no safe grounds to move, to play, to build skill or confidence.

In 2025, while the world invests in innovative sporting codes — from paddle and skateboarding to drone racing and e-sports — our youth are still denied the most basic structures to channel their talent or ambition. In a country where sport once symbolised liberation, resilience, and unity, it is devastating to see how little we invest in the facilities that could nurture the next generation.

Yet it does not have to be this way. There are affordable, creative, and collaborative ways to rebuild our sporting culture from the ground up. Look at the outdoor gyms in Sea Point, Cape Town, or the vibrant open spaces of Petrus Molefe Eco Park and Kingfisher Park in Johannesburg — living testaments to what happens when design, community, and movement intersect.

Such spaces are not decorative extras; they are essential foundations for health, connection, and creativity. Every city, every township, every small “dorpie” deserves that same spirit of investment and inclusivity.

It starts with something as simple as a soccer field. A single open space can transform the rhythm of a community — becoming a gathering point, a school of teamwork and discipline, a site of hope. When we build accessible spaces for sport, we are not merely promoting recreation; we are strengthening community ties, improving public health, and fostering equal participation and mutual growth.

President Nelson Mandela understood this better than anyone. During the 1995 Rugby World Cup, Madiba reminded us that sport has the power to heal the wounds of division and ignite national pride. His vision of unity was not abstract; it was grounded in the tangible act of rallying behind a common cause — a trait that defined our anti-apartheid struggle.

That legacy — of ubuntu, of nation-building through participation — must not be confined to our past. It is a living principle that should guide how we move forward. Mandela’s ethos — spotlighting sport as a platform for inclusivity, inspiration, and collective upliftment — is precisely what our society needs now.

The inequalities that persist in sport directly mirror those across our post-apartheid society. We cannot claim to be building a better South Africa while our children grow up surrounded by concrete and isolation, while young people pay more for gym memberships than for transport, and while our elderly have nowhere safe to walk, stretch, or gather.

A true neighbourhood does not emerge simply from a cluster of homes. It thrives only when supported by facilities that foster safety, wellness, and community — sidewalks, parks, bicycle lanes, playgrounds, and public courts. These are not luxuries; they are necessities for a humane, sustainable, and just society.

Sport is not merely about competition. It teaches teamwork, discipline, and resilience. It builds confidence and creates pathways out of poverty. It nurtures leadership — both on and off the field. When we meaningfully invest in sport, from grassroots to professional levels, we are investing in our nation’s longevity, prosperity, and collective wellbeing. We are investing in the spirit of South Africa itself.

This football season must remind us of our choices. We can continue to applaud global stars while ignoring the talent growing in our own backyards — or we can start small: one field, one park, one child at a time. We can invest in the dusty schoolyards and open spaces where potential already lives, and build communities where skill meets opportunity and dreams are given room to grow.

Let this be the season we look beyond the stadium lights — to the gravel roads and open fields where our future is already dribbling a makeshift ball down a dusty path. Because hope, like talent, often begins unseen — waiting only for us to notice.

* Tswelopele Makoe is a gender and social justice activist and editor at Global South Media Network. She is a researcher, columnist, and an Andrew W Mellon scholar at the Desmond Tutu Centre for Religion and Social Justice, UWC. The views expressed are her own.

** The views expressed do not necessarily reflect the views of IOL, Independent Media or The African.