
Stinking rich. That’s how to describe the ultra-wealthy beneficiaries of the so-called “new” South Africa. Over the last 30 to 35 years, a small elite has amassed unfathomable fortunes. They’ve been handed mines, shares, tenders, ownership deals, plum jobs, and unimaginable sums of money. Their appetite for wealth appears limitless.
We all know who they are.
Mostly, but not exclusively, politicians. Their names appear in headlines, annual rich lists, and glossy magazines. A quick online search—or a question to any AI app—will show you just how rich they’ve become. And every single day, they get even richer, while the rest of the country slips deeper into despair.
Millions in this country are starving. Millions are unemployed, casualties of economic mismanagement, corruption, and policies that favour cronies over citizens. Schools are crumbling, even as teacher salaries grow. Hospitals are overcrowded, understaffed, and in some places, barely functioning. Crime is a daily threat. Dignity has become a luxury, as the young and old alike are driven into degrading means of survival. Go out onto the streets and see for yourself. The contrast is horrifying.
So here’s a question—one that would seem laughable if it weren’t so serious:
Would these filthy-rich billionaires consider doing what Bill Gates has pledged to do?
Let’s be clear: Gates, one of the wealthiest men in the world, has committed to giving away 99% of his fortune—some $200 billion—within his lifetime. Most of it goes toward global health, education, and development initiatives, particularly in Africa. He’s announced that the Bill & Melinda Gates Foundation will close by 2045. His goal is simple: not to die rich.
Inspired by Andrew Carnegie’s Gospel of Wealth, Gates believes wealth should serve humanity, not just its heirs. He’s even said his children will inherit just a small fraction of his fortune. In other words, they won’t be poor—but they also won’t be trust fund royalty.
Can we imagine a South African billionaire doing the same?
Go ahead, fall off your chair laughing. The very suggestion seems absurd. Could anyone seriously believe our local billionaires would give away even a portion of their wealth, let alone the lion’s share?
But the question remains. It’s not for us to answer.
It’s for them.
What does moral responsibility look like in a country where inequality is this extreme? Where the wealth of a few has come at the cost of the many? Where infrastructure is decaying and the social contract lies in tatters?
If they refuse to give, it tells us who they really are.
And if they do give—truly, sacrificially—it could help repair not just roads or schools or hospitals, but something deeper: the soul of a broken nation.
So no, this isn’t satire. This isn’t idealism. It’s a challenge. A provocation. A dare.
To the stinking rich of the new South Africa: prove us wrong.
Give it away. Before you die.