Spring Day is meant to signal a new season — warmer weather, brighter days and, for many young people, the familiar tradition of splashing water. But this year, celebrations in parts of Tshwane have
sparked serious concern after videos showed people being targeted without consent, vehicles being stopped, public transport damaged and commuters caught in the chaos. The issue took a tragic turn in Refilwe, Cullinan, where 21-year-old Tshepang Nyathi was allegedly stabbed to death after an altercation involving a 53-year-old man who was allegedly targeted with water. The suspect has been arrested and is expected to face a murder charge. Tshwane Bus Service says two buses were put out of operation after the celebrations, affecting more than 300 passengers, including pupils and students.
So, has a harmless tradition crossed a line? Should water-splashing games be banned, regulated through designated spaces, or is the real issue a lack of respect for consent, public property and safety? Let’s talk about it.

Spring Day is meant to signal a new season &mdash; warmer weather,&nbsp;brighter days and, for many young people, the familiar tradition of&nbsp;splashing water. But this year, celebrations in parts of Tshwane have sparked serious concern after videos showed people being targeted&nbsp;without consent, vehicles being stopped, public transport damaged&nbsp;and commuters caught in the chaos.&nbsp;The issue took a tragic turn in Refilwe, Cullinan, where 21-year-old&nbsp;Tshepang Nyathi was allegedly stabbed to death after an altercation&nbsp;involving a 53-year-old man who was allegedly targeted with water. The suspect has been arrested and is expected to face a murder&nbsp;charge.&nbsp;Tshwane Bus Service says two buses were put out of operation after&nbsp;the celebrations, affecting more than 300 passengers, including&nbsp;pupils and students. So, has a harmless tradition crossed a line? Should water-splashing&nbsp;games be banned, regulated through designated spaces, or is the&nbsp;real issue a lack of respect for consent, public property and safety?&nbsp;Let&rsquo;s talk about it.

After 8 is After 8: Spring Day Celebrations gone too far?

Tonight, we turn to a harrowing case that has shaken communities in South Africa and beyond. Two young South African girls, aged nine and 15, have finally returned home after nearly two years of
alleged trafficking in Malawi. According to authorities, the children were lured across the border
by perpetrators who had gained their family’s trust, only to have their passports confiscated and be confined in a house under mistreatment. While their mother and grandmother were released earlier this year, the girls remained in Malawi until they were rescued by local authorities in July. Today, Social Development Minister Dina Pule received them at OR Tambo International Airport, calling their return a critical step toward healing and family reunification. The Directorate for Priority Crime Investigation is now handling the criminal probe, with officials urging the public to treat this not as a missing persons case, but as alleged child trafficking and exploitation. As the girls begin their recovery, we ask if our country is winning the war against human trafficking. What are the warning signs? Are authorities doing enough and how communities can help protect vulnerable children.

Tonight, we turn to a harrowing case that has shaken communities&nbsp;in South Africa and beyond. Two young South African girls, aged&nbsp;nine and 15, have finally returned home after nearly two years of alleged trafficking in Malawi.&nbsp;According to authorities, the children were lured across the border by perpetrators who had gained their family&rsquo;s trust, only to have their&nbsp;passports confiscated and be confined in a house under&nbsp;mistreatment.&nbsp;While their mother and grandmother were released earlier this year,&nbsp;the girls remained in Malawi until they were rescued by local&nbsp;authorities in July.&nbsp;Today, Social Development Minister Dina Pule received them at OR&nbsp;Tambo International Airport, calling their return a critical step toward&nbsp;healing and family reunification.&nbsp;The Directorate for Priority Crime Investigation is now handling the&nbsp;criminal probe, with officials urging the public to treat this not as a&nbsp;missing persons case, but as alleged child trafficking and&nbsp;exploitation. As the girls begin their recovery, we ask if our country is&nbsp;winning the war against human trafficking. What are the warning&nbsp;signs? Are authorities doing enough and how communities can help&nbsp;protect vulnerable children.

SA sisters arrive home after Malawi trafficking ordeal (Dr Tebogo Mabe - Director for Adoptions and International Social Services - Department of Social Development)

We spend a great deal of time, and rightly so, talking about the challenges facing the girl child. We talk about gender-based violence, teenage pregnancy, abuse, safety and the need to empower young women. But in the middle of all these important conversations, there is another child we need to ask about: the boy child. What is happening to South Africa’s boys? Because behind the school uniforms, the bravado and the insistence that “boys will be boys”, there are young boys
dealing with bullying, violence, peer pressure, absent or emotionally unavailable fathers, substance abuse, gangs and mental-health struggles. And too often, when a boy is hurting, we don't ask what's wrong. We tell him to toughen up. When he cries, we tell him to stop. When he is bullied, we tell him to fight back. And when that pain eventually comes out as aggression, we punish the behaviour without always asking where it came from. So, have we forgotten to check in on our boys? Are we raising boys who know how to communicate, process rejection, deal with anger and ask for help—or are we simply raising boys who have been taught that vulnerability is weakness? Today, we put the boy child under the microscope and ask a difficult question: If we don't invest in the emotional, social and
mental wellbeing of boys today, what kind of men—and ultimately what kind of society—are we creating tomorrow?

We spend a great deal of time, and rightly so, talking about the&nbsp;challenges facing the girl child. We talk about gender-based&nbsp;violence, teenage pregnancy, abuse, safety and the need to&nbsp;empower young women. But in the middle of all these&nbsp;important conversations, there is another child we need to ask&nbsp;about: the boy child.&nbsp;What is happening to South Africa&rsquo;s boys? Because behind the school uniforms, the bravado and the&nbsp;insistence that &ldquo;boys will be boys&rdquo;, there are young boys dealing with bullying, violence, peer pressure, absent or&nbsp;emotionally unavailable fathers, substance abuse, gangs and&nbsp;mental-health struggles. And too often, when a boy is hurting,&nbsp;we don't ask what's wrong. We tell him to toughen up. When he&nbsp;cries, we tell him to stop. When he is bullied, we tell him to fight&nbsp;back. And when that pain eventually comes out as aggression,&nbsp;we punish the behaviour without always asking where it came&nbsp;from.&nbsp;So, have we forgotten to check in on our boys?&nbsp;Are we raising boys who know how to communicate, process&nbsp;rejection, deal with anger and ask for help&mdash;or are we simply&nbsp;raising boys who have been taught that vulnerability is&nbsp;weakness?&nbsp;Today, we put the boy child under the microscope and ask a&nbsp;difficult question: If we don't invest in the emotional, social and mental wellbeing of boys today, what kind of men&mdash;and&nbsp;ultimately what kind of society&mdash;are we creating tomorrow?

AFTER 8 IS AFTER 8: What About the Boys? Are We Failing South Africa’s Boy  Child?

The election season is officially heating up, and in KwaZulu-Natal, the ANC has now put its promises on the table. The party launched its provincial election manifesto in Cornubia, in the eThekwini region, outlining what it says it will do to improve the lives of communities ahead of the 2026 Local Government Elections. But manifestos are easy to launch; delivering on them is another matter entirely. For residents of eThekwini and KwaZulu-Natal, the questions are deeply personal: Will there be reliable water? Will roads be fixed? Will young people find jobs? Will municipalities finally
deliver basic services? And perhaps most importantly, can the ANC convince voters that it has learnt from the failures that have cost it public trust over the years? The party says its programme is focused on issues including service delivery, job creation, youth development and rebuilding trust in government. But what exactly does that mean for ordinary residents, and how will these promises be
implemented? We are joined now by Cyril Xaba of the ANC to unpack the party's manifesto and what the ANC is promising the people of KwaZulu-Natal.

The election season is officially heating up, and in&nbsp;KwaZulu-Natal, the ANC has now put its promises on the table.&nbsp;The party launched its provincial election manifesto in&nbsp;Cornubia, in the eThekwini region, outlining what it says it will&nbsp;do to improve the lives of communities ahead of the 2026 Local&nbsp;Government Elections.&nbsp;But manifestos are easy to launch; delivering on them is&nbsp;another matter entirely.&nbsp;For residents of eThekwini and KwaZulu-Natal, the questions&nbsp;are deeply personal: Will there be reliable water? Will roads be&nbsp;fixed? Will young people find jobs? Will municipalities finally deliver basic services? And perhaps most importantly, can the&nbsp;ANC convince voters that it has learnt from the failures that&nbsp;have cost it public trust over the years?&nbsp;The party says its programme is focused on issues including&nbsp;service delivery, job creation, youth development and&nbsp;rebuilding trust in government. But what exactly does that&nbsp;mean for ordinary residents, and how will these promises be implemented?&nbsp;We are joined now by Cyril Xaba of the ANC to unpack the&nbsp;party's manifesto and what the ANC is promising the people of&nbsp;KwaZulu-Natal.

THE ANC IN KZN ASKING FOR ANOTHER CHANCE ( Mayor of eThekwini Cyril Xaba )

A child is supposed to worry about homework, friendships, school trips and what they're going to wear tomorrow. They are not supposed to worry about whether there is enough food in the house. They are not supposed to be checking whether their mother has taken her medication, making sure their younger siblings have eaten, cooking dinner, getting them ready for school or wondering
what will happen if the electricity is cut off. And yet, for many children, this is their reality.
When a parent is seriously ill, living with a disability, struggling with addiction, or simply unable to cope, children can quietly step into the role of caregiver. They become the responsible one.
The one who doesn't cause problems. The one who knows when Mom is having a bad day.
The one who comforts their younger siblings. And sometimes, they become so good at being the adult that nobody stops to ask whether they're still getting the chance to be a child. Today we're asking: What happens to a child who grows up taking care of everyone else? Does it make them resilient — or does it force them to carry emotional responsibilities that can follow them into adulthood?
And perhaps most importantly: when a child becomes the caregiver, who is caring for the child?

A child is supposed to worry about homework, friendships, school&nbsp;trips and what they're going to wear tomorrow.&nbsp;They are not supposed to worry about whether there is enough food&nbsp;in the house. They are not supposed to be checking whether their mother has&nbsp;taken her medication, making sure their younger siblings have&nbsp;eaten, cooking dinner, getting them ready for school or wondering what will happen if the electricity is cut off.&nbsp;And yet, for many children, this is their reality. When a parent is seriously ill, living with a disability, struggling with&nbsp;addiction, or simply unable to cope, children can quietly step into the&nbsp;role of caregiver.&nbsp;They become the responsible one. The one who doesn't cause problems.&nbsp;The one who knows when Mom is having a bad day. The one who comforts their younger siblings.&nbsp;And sometimes, they become so good at being the adult that&nbsp;nobody stops to ask whether they're still getting the chance to be a&nbsp;child.&nbsp;Today we're asking: What happens to a child who grows up&nbsp;taking care of everyone else?&nbsp;Does it make them resilient &mdash; or does it force them to carry&nbsp;emotional responsibilities that can follow them into adulthood? And perhaps most importantly: when a child becomes the&nbsp;caregiver, who is caring for the child?

After 8 is After 8: When the Child Becomes the Parent

Imagine being 19 years old and already having a political history. Before most young people have even figured out their first career move, Kwanda Summers had already entered the political arena.
Growing up in Nkandla, she met former president Jacob Zuma and, as a teenager, approached him with an idea to get young people more interested in politics. That idea eventually became the MK
Teens and Learners Command, with Kwanda at the helm. She says she mobilised thousands of young people, but became frustrated when she felt the youth structure wasn't being taken
seriously or getting the national recognition she believed it deserved. So she walked away — and when the young people who had followed her asked where they should go next, she decided to
build a political home of her own. Today, at just 19, Kwanda is the founder and leader of the Next
Generation Political Party, which she says already has around 7,000 members and plans to contest municipalities including eThekwini, uMsunduzi and uMngeni. So, what happens when a young person who was once being mentored and encouraged within one of South Africa's newest political movements decides she doesn't want to wait her turn? Tonight, we meet Kwanda Summers — and ask whether South Africa's next political generation is already knocking on the door.

Imagine being 19 years old and already having a political history.&nbsp;Before most young people have even figured out their first career&nbsp;move, Kwanda Summers had already entered the political arena. Growing up in Nkandla, she met former president Jacob Zuma and,&nbsp;as a teenager, approached him with an idea to get young people&nbsp;more interested in politics. That idea eventually became the MK Teens and Learners Command, with Kwanda at the helm.&nbsp;She says she mobilised thousands of young people, but became&nbsp;frustrated when she felt the youth structure wasn't being taken seriously or getting the national recognition she believed it&nbsp;deserved. So she walked away &mdash; and when the young people who&nbsp;had followed her asked where they should go next, she decided to build a political home of her own.&nbsp;Today, at just 19, Kwanda is the founder and leader of the Next Generation Political Party, which she says already has around&nbsp;7,000 members and plans to contest municipalities including&nbsp;eThekwini, uMsunduzi and uMngeni.&nbsp;So, what happens when a young person who was once being&nbsp;mentored and encouraged within one of South Africa's newest&nbsp;political movements decides she doesn't want to wait her turn?&nbsp;Tonight, we meet Kwanda Summers &mdash; and ask whether South&nbsp;Africa's next political generation is already knocking on the&nbsp;door.

The 19-year-old who went from MK youth leader to starting her own political party

When a mother gives birth, we expect joy. The baby arrives, the congratulations pour in, and everyone asks about the newborn. But sometimes, beneath the smiles and the pictures, a mother is falling apart. The trial of American mother Lindsay Clancy has put one of the darkest sides of maternity back into the spotlight. Clancy is accused of killing her three children in 2023, with her defence arguing that she was suffering from postpartum psychosis. Whatever the outcome of that trial, it has forced a difficult conversation about what happens when severe maternal mental
illness goes unrecognised — and what can happen when a mother’s cry for help is missed.
And that conversation is not as far away from home as we might like to think. South Africa has its own deeply worrying warning signs. Research has found high rates of infant homicide in the country, with mothers accounting for a significant proportion of neonaticide cases, while gaps in mental health, reproductive and social services leave many women without the support they need.
So, how do we know when the exhaustion of new motherhood has become something more serious? And are we asking mothers how they are really doing — or are we only checking that the baby is healthy? South African author Kim Vermaak knows that battle personally. Her new book, Taming the Monster of Postpartum Depression, combines her own experience with research and the stories of other women. She joins us now to talk about the mothers who are struggling silently — and why we cannot afford to wait for a tragedy before we start listening.

When a mother gives birth, we expect joy. The baby arrives, the&nbsp;congratulations pour in, and everyone asks about the newborn. But&nbsp;sometimes, beneath the smiles and the pictures, a mother is falling&nbsp;apart.&nbsp;The trial of American mother Lindsay Clancy has put one of the&nbsp;darkest sides of maternity back into the spotlight. Clancy is accused&nbsp;of killing her three children in 2023, with her defence arguing that&nbsp;she was suffering from postpartum psychosis.&nbsp;Whatever the outcome of that trial, it has forced a difficult&nbsp;conversation about what happens when severe maternal mental illness goes unrecognised &mdash; and what can happen when a mother&rsquo;s&nbsp;cry for help is missed. And that conversation is not as far away from home as we might like&nbsp;to think. South Africa has its own deeply worrying warning signs.&nbsp;Research has found high rates of infant homicide in the country, with&nbsp;mothers accounting for a significant proportion of neonaticide cases,&nbsp;while gaps in mental health, reproductive and social services leave&nbsp;many women without the support they need. So, how do we know when the exhaustion of new motherhood has&nbsp;become something more serious? And are we asking mothers how&nbsp;they are really doing &mdash; or are we only checking that the baby is&nbsp;healthy?&nbsp;South African author Kim Vermaak knows that battle personally. Her&nbsp;new book, Taming the Monster of Postpartum Depression, combines&nbsp;her own experience with research and the stories of other women.&nbsp;She joins us now to talk about the mothers who are struggling&nbsp;silently &mdash; and why we cannot afford to wait for a tragedy before we&nbsp;start listening.

AFTER 8 IS AFTER 8: Postpartum Mental Health — The Lindsay Clancy Trial and South  Africa

South African motorists are being given one last chance to fill up before another painful fuel-price increase kicks in. From Wednesday, petrol will cost R1.34 more per litre, while diesel motorists face an even bigger shock — with increases of up to R3.15 a litre. And the pain won’t stop at the petrol station. Higher fuel costs feed into the price of transporting food, goods and people, putting yet more pressure on households already battling the rising cost of living. The increases are being driven by higher international oil prices, supply pressures and the cost of moving oil through the Strait of Hormuz. A stronger rand has offered some relief, but not enough to prevent the hike. 

South African motorists are being given one last chance to fill up&nbsp;before another painful fuel-price increase kicks in. From&nbsp;Wednesday, petrol will cost R1.34 more per litre, while diesel&nbsp;motorists face an even bigger shock &mdash; with increases of up to&nbsp;R3.15 a litre.&nbsp;And the pain won&rsquo;t stop at the petrol station. Higher fuel costs feed&nbsp;into the price of transporting food, goods and people, putting yet more pressure on households already battling the rising cost of&nbsp;living. The increases are being driven by higher international oil&nbsp;prices, supply pressures and the cost of moving oil through the&nbsp;Strait of Hormuz. A stronger rand has offered some relief, but not&nbsp;enough to prevent the hike.&nbsp;

FILL UP OR PAY UP: FUEL PRICE SHOCK HITS SOUTH  AFRICANS

The race to control eThekwini is heating up ahead of the 4 November local government elections, and the Inkatha Freedom Party has now put one of its biggest political names on the ballot.
The IFP has named 39-year-old Deputy Transport Minister and party spokesperson Mkhuleko Hlengwa as its mayoral candidate for eThekwini — a significant move for a party seeking to challenge the ANC's grip on KwaZulu-Natal's economic powerhouse. Hlengwa has been an MP since 2012 and previously chaired Parliament's Standing Committee on Public Accounts, giving him extensive experience in national government and public oversight. But this election is about more than a political title. eThekwini is facing deep challenges around service delivery, infrastructure, municipal finances and public confidence. The IFP says it wants to restore accountable, people-centred governance and believes Hlengwa has the experience to lead that turnaround. The party has
also announced businessman Sizwe “Mavava” Skhakhane as its deputy mayoral candidate, describing the pairing as a “two-horns” strategy. So, what exactly is the IFP promising Durban voters — and can Hlengwa translate his national political profile into enough support to take control of eThekwini?

The race to control eThekwini is heating up ahead of the 4&nbsp;November local government elections, and the Inkatha Freedom&nbsp;Party has now put one of its biggest political names on the ballot. The IFP has named 39-year-old Deputy Transport Minister and&nbsp;party spokesperson Mkhuleko Hlengwa as its mayoral candidate&nbsp;for eThekwini &mdash; a significant move for a party seeking to challenge&nbsp;the ANC's grip on KwaZulu-Natal's economic powerhouse. Hlengwa&nbsp;has been an MP since 2012 and previously chaired Parliament's&nbsp;Standing Committee on Public Accounts, giving him extensive&nbsp;experience in national government and public oversight.&nbsp;But this election is about more than a political title. eThekwini is&nbsp;facing deep challenges around service delivery, infrastructure,&nbsp;municipal finances and public confidence. The IFP says it wants&nbsp;to restore accountable, people-centred governance and believes&nbsp;Hlengwa has the experience to lead that turnaround. The party has also announced businessman Sizwe &ldquo;Mavava&rdquo; Skhakhane as its&nbsp;deputy mayoral candidate, describing the pairing as a &ldquo;two-horns&rdquo;&nbsp;strategy.&nbsp;So, what exactly is the IFP promising Durban voters &mdash; and can&nbsp;Hlengwa translate his national political profile into enough support to&nbsp;take control of eThekwini?

IFP PUTS MKHULEKO HLENGWA FOR ETHKWENI — CAN HE  WIN DURBAN?

We often talk about burnout as though it’s simply a matter of working too hard — take a holiday, switch off your phone, get some sleep and come back refreshed. But what happens when the reason you can’t switch off is bigger than your workload? What happens when your salary is paying the rent, the bond, groceries, petrol, electricity, school fees and debt — and the idea of leaving an unhealthy workplace is simply not financially possible? A recent report highlighted just how trapped many South Africans feel. A SADAG employee survey of 963 people found that 75% struggled to stop thinking about work when they were off duty, while 61% said they wanted to leave their jobs but couldn’t afford to. Four in ten were also worried about losing their jobs. So, are we looking at a burnout crisis that is no longer just about the workplace, but about the cost of surviving in South Africa? Are
people working longer hours, answering WhatsApps after hours and checking emails on weekends simply because they are terrified of what happens if that income disappears? And at what point does
being financially secure come at the expense of your mental and physical wellbeing? Today, we want to ask: Are South Africans running on empty because our workplaces demand too much — or because the cost of living leaves us with no choice but to keep going?

We often talk about burnout as though it&rsquo;s simply a matter of working&nbsp;too hard &mdash; take a holiday, switch off your phone, get some sleep&nbsp;and come back refreshed. But what happens when the reason you&nbsp;can&rsquo;t switch off is bigger than your workload? What happens when&nbsp;your salary is paying the rent, the bond, groceries, petrol, electricity,&nbsp;school fees and debt &mdash; and the idea of leaving an unhealthy&nbsp;workplace is simply not financially possible?&nbsp;A recent report highlighted just how trapped many South Africans&nbsp;feel. A SADAG employee survey of 963 people found that 75%&nbsp;struggled to stop thinking about work when they were off duty,&nbsp;while 61% said they wanted to leave their jobs but couldn&rsquo;t&nbsp;afford to. Four in ten were also worried about losing their jobs.&nbsp;So, are we looking at a burnout crisis that is no longer just about the&nbsp;workplace, but about the cost of surviving in South Africa? Are people working longer hours, answering WhatsApps after hours and&nbsp;checking emails on weekends simply because they are terrified of&nbsp;what happens if that income disappears? And at what point does being financially secure come at the expense of your mental and&nbsp;physical wellbeing?&nbsp;Today, we want to ask: Are South Africans running on empty&nbsp;because our workplaces demand too much &mdash; or because the&nbsp;cost of living leaves us with no choice but to keep going?

AFTER 8 IS AFTER 8: South Africans Are Running on Empty – But Can’t Afford  to Stop

METRO FM Talk with Faith Mangope

METRO FM Talk with Faith Mangope

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