Prof Edith Phaswana
Image: Supplied
There is something deeply unsettling about the state of our municipalities. Increasingly, their public presence is defined not by roads repaired, water restored, or towns revitalised — but by images of officials visiting bereaved families, attending funerals, and posting messages of condolence on social media.
Let us be clear: empathy is not the problem. Compassion is a necessary attribute of leadership in any society that seeks to uphold human dignity. In African contexts, grounded in ubuntu, it is expected that leaders stand with communities in moments of grief. But when this becomes the dominant expression of leadership, we must pause and ask: what has happened to the work we elected them to do? Our municipalities are not funeral parlours. They are engines of service delivery.
Across the country, communities are grappling with pothole-ridden roads, erratic water supply, failing sanitation systems, and crumbling infrastructure. Towns that should be centres of human development are increasingly marked by neglect. Yet instead of seeing regular updates on infrastructure maintenance, service delivery plans, or measurable progress, we are inundated with curated images of condolence visits. This is not simply a communication failure — it reflects a deeper crisis of governance.
We are witnessing the rise of performative leadership, where visibility is prioritised over viability, and symbolism substitutes substance. Social media has amplified this tendency, rewarding presence rather than performance. It is easier to attend a funeral than to fix a water system. It is more immediate to post a condolence message than to navigate procurement systems, manage technical teams, and ensure that infrastructure projects are delivered on time and within budget.
But leadership is not meant to be easy — it is meant to be effective. Citizens do not pay rates and taxes for performance theatre. They pay for services. The social contract between municipalities and communities rests on a simple premise: public resources must translate into public good. When this contract is weakened, frustration is not only understandable — it is inevitable.
What we are observing is not merely inefficiency; it is institutional drift. The lines between political visibility and administrative responsibility have blurred. Leadership has become increasingly reactive rather than developmental, more focused on symbolic gestures than systemic outcomes.
This moment calls for a recalibration of priorities. We need municipalities that are both compassionate and competent. Leaders who can stand with grieving families, but who also stand firmly over broken systems until they are repaired. Empathy must not replace delivery — it must deepen it. True compassion is not only expressed in moments of loss; it is demonstrated in ensuring that communities have water before crisis, roads before accidents, and services before suffering.
Within the broader African governance project, this is not a trivial matter. Local government is the frontline of the developmental state. It is where the dignity of citizens is most tangibly realised — or most visibly undermined. When municipalities fail, the promise of democratic governance itself is called into question.
We must therefore demand a different kind of accountability. Let municipalities trend for the right reasons: for fixing infrastructure, for maintaining roads, for restoring water systems, and for building towns that reflect care for the living. Let communication reflect delivery, not distract from its absence.
Because at this rate, it feels as though the living are being forgotten. And no society can afford to normalise a condition where mourning becomes more visible than maintenance. The ethics of public service demand more.