JOHANNESBURG — When the sun goes down over Soweto, people rush to cook dinner before their planned 6 p.m. power cut starts. They put candles in key spots around their homes, check their portable chargers, and kids hurry to finish homework while daylight still comes through the windows. This isn’t a short-term emergency but everyday life in Africa’s top industrial country where “load shedding”—scheduled power cuts to stop the grid from breaking down—has become as common as sunrise.
“We kid that load shedding is South Africa’s most dependable service,” says Thabo Molefe, who runs a small business in Cape Town. He thinks he’s lost about 25% of his income since power cuts got worse in January. “At least when they say the power will go off, it does—unlike when they promise it will stay on.”
Problem years in the making
South Africa faces an electricity crisis that started in 2007 and has now reached its worst point. In some areas, power cuts last up to eight hours a day under the feared “Stage 8” load shedding plan. Eskom, the state-run power company that supplies 95% of the country’s electricity, has become a sign of the wider problems in how South Africa is run.
The roots of the crisis run deep. Eskom’s aging fleet of coal-fired power stations—responsible for generating 85% of South Africa’s electricity—are crumbling under the weight of decades of neglect. The Energy Availability Factor, a measure of plant reliability, has plummeted to 58%, down from 65% just five years ago.
“This crisis was entirely predictable,” says energy analyst Dr. Lungile Dube. “A government report from 1998 explicitly warned of power shortages by 2007, but those warnings were ignored in favor of short-term political considerations.”
The power utility’s troubles were exacerbated during former President Jacob Zuma’s administration, when allegations of corruption and state capture diverted funds from critical maintenance. Today, criminal syndicates reportedly operate within Eskom itself, with incidents of suspected sabotage hampering recovery efforts.
The economic toll has been devastating. Economists estimate that South Africa’s economy could be 17% larger today had it not been for persistent power cuts over the past decade.
For major industries like mining and manufacturing—historical pillars of the South African economy—the impact has been particularly severe. Mining operations have been forced to reduce production during peak outage periods, with the sector reporting billions in losses.
Small businesses, which employ the majority of South Africans, have been hit hardest. In Johannesburg’s once-bustling small business districts, “For Rent” signs hang in windows where thriving enterprises once operated.
“I invested everything in my restaurant,” says Nomsa Khumalo, who recently closed her establishment in Pretoria after three years of operation. “But how can you run a business when you lose power for hours every day? The generators cost too much to run, food spoils in the fridges, and customers stop coming. Eventually, you just can’t go on.”
The average South African household now spends approximately R5,000 (about $270) monthly on backup power solutions—a significant burden in a country where nearly half the population lives below the poverty line.
While the economic impact is quantifiable, the human cost extends far beyond numbers on a spreadsheet.
At Baragwanath Hospital in Soweto, Dr. Mandla Sithole describes the challenges of providing healthcare during outages. “We’ve had to delay surgeries, worry about vaccine refrigeration, and watch vital medical equipment shut down mid-procedure,” he says. “In a country already struggling with healthcare access, it’s catastrophic.”
A Health Department report indicates that 80% of public healthcare facilities are affected by load shedding, with rural facilities facing the most severe consequences due to limited backup systems.
Education has similarly suffered. Schools across the country report disrupted learning environments, especially in poorer areas where buildings lack natural light. Students preparing for university entrance exams study by candlelight, while teachers scramble to complete curricula in reduced hours.
Perhaps most concerning is the impact on public safety. The South African Police Service reported a correlation between outages and crime rates, with residential burglaries spiking during blackout periods when security systems are disabled.
Load shedding has highlighted and exacerbated South Africa’s status as the world’s most unequal society. In affluent neighborhoods, the hum of generators provides a constant soundtrack, while solar panels glint on rooftops. Just kilometres away, in townships and informal settlements, residents face the full brunt of outages without alternatives.
“There are two South Africas during load shedding,” observes social researcher Pumla Ndlovu. “One where life continues with minor inconveniences, and another where daily survival becomes exponentially more difficult.”
Public reaction has evolved from initial patience to simmering anger. Social media platforms overflow with frustration, with one viral post calling load shedding “a profitable criminal enterprise masquerading as an unavoidable crisis.”
This anger spilled onto the streets in March 2023, when protests erupted across major cities. While mostly peaceful, some demonstrations turned violent, reflecting deepening public disillusionment.
The crisis has sparked innovation and resilience. Communities have organized shared power stations, while entrepreneurs market everything from low-cost solar solutions to load shedding apps that help residents plan around outages.
International organizations have stepped in as well. The United Nations Development Programme has introduced technologies like TV White Spaces to provide affordable internet in rural areas during outages, helping small businesses remain operational.
President Cyril Ramaphosa’s government has repeatedly promised reforms, including allowing private energy producers to contribute to the grid and accelerating renewable energy projects. A brief respite in April 2024 raised hopes, only to be dashed when severe outages resumed in January 2025.
“South Africans are resilient, but resilience has its limits,” says energy activist Zukiswa Mbatha. “We need more than promises—we need a transparent, urgent overhaul of our energy sector before irreparable damage is done to our economy and social fabric.”
As night falls across South Africa, millions of citizens check load shedding schedules, charge devices, and prepare for hours of darkness. For a nation that overcame apartheid and dreamed of a bright future, the persistent failure to keep the lights on represents more than an inconvenience—it’s a profound challenge to the promise of a more equitable society.
“When Nelson Mandela spoke of a better life for all,” reflects retired teacher Johannes van Wyk, “I don’t think he imagined we’d still be sitting in the dark nearly thirty years later.”
