The Jobs Crisis Is Real. The Target Is Wrong

by marketing | Jul 14, 2026 | blog, News @ ORT

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐉𝐨𝐛𝐬 𝐂𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐬 𝐈𝐬 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐥. 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐓𝐚𝐫𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐈𝐬 𝐖𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠
𝐁𝐲 𝐀𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐡 𝐑𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐠

Every July, during Mandela Month, South Africans are asked to give 67 minutes to something bigger than ourselves. This year, perhaps we should begin by giving a few minutes to something Mandela said about unemployment when the stakes were still raw and the country still new.

On 7 May 1996, speaking at the first graduation ceremony of the ORT-STEP Institute, Nelson Mandela named the crisis directly: the country, he said, was faced with a huge unemployment problem, and education was a key ingredient in solving it, because it gives people the skills the economy needs. He was not describing a fixed number of jobs, with one group taking from another. He was describing capacity, a country emerging from apartheid with schools that had denied millions the tools to participate meaningfully in the economy. His answer wasn’t to shrink the pool of people chasing work. It was to grow the pool of people equipped to create it.

Thirty years on, that distinction has been lost in the noise of this winter’s protests against foreign nationals. The anger is not difficult to understand. Joblessness in South Africa is not a statistic on a page. It is rent unpaid, food stretched, young people sitting at home after matric, parents unable to provide, and communities losing faith that tomorrow will be better. That anger is real and deserves to be taken seriously, which is exactly why it matters where we point it.

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐦

South Africa’s unemployment crisis is not caused by foreign nationals. It is caused by an economy that has failed to grow fast enough, a schooling and skills system that still leaves too many young people behind, a state that too often frustrates rather than enables enterprise, and a labour market that has not created workplaces at anything close to the scale required.

The numbers are brutal. The Centre for Development and Enterprise’s 2025 report describes South Africa as having the deepest and most persistent unemployment crisis in the world. More than 12 million South Africans want work but cannot find it, and for 17 years, roughly 1,000 people have joined the unemployment queue every day. CDE’s diagnosis is not that migrants are taking jobs. It is that policy and governance failures have slowed growth to almost nothing, and without growth, no unemployment solution can work.

Stats SA’s latest labour figures confirm the scale of the disaster. In Q1 2026, the official unemployment rate stood at 32,7%. Among young people aged 15 to 24, it was 60,9%. Among those aged 25 to 34, it was 40,6%. That is the heart of the crisis: not a country with too many outsiders, but a country with too few pathways into work.

𝐖𝐡𝐲 𝐰𝐞 𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐩𝐞𝐠𝐨𝐚𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐰𝐚𝐲

If the facts don’t support it, why does the narrative persist? Afrobarometer study by Christopher Claassen, modelling the drivers of South African xenophobia, found that poverty, relative deprivation and frustration with government were the strongest predictors of anti-foreigner sentiment, a mechanism of scapegoating, in which hopelessness looks for a visible target.

The immigration numbers do not support the scapegoating narrative either. Stats SA’s 2022 Census recorded just over 2,4 million international migrants, just below 4% of the population. That is not enough to explain a national jobs crisis of this depth.

This is not a story about who is taking jobs. It is a story about jobs never being created in the first place, at anything like the scale the population needs.

None of this means South Africa should have no immigration policy. Of course, the country needs lawful, competent, fair immigration management. Home Affairs must work. Borders must be managed. Labour laws must apply to everyone. Employers who exploit undocumented workers, or use them to undercut South African workers, should face consequences.

But vigilantism is not policy. Most people caught up in this moment are not its architects, they are frightened and out of options, looking for someone to blame in a system that has given them very little. Still, chasing people from spaza shops, threatening tenants, looting businesses or blaming African migrants for state failure will not create a single sustainable job. It will only destroy livelihoods, deepen fear, scare investors and distract us from what needs to be done.

𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐨𝐧 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰𝐬

The research on migrant entrepreneurship often runs opposite to what the slogans suggest. A World Bank study found that between 1996 and 2011, immigrant workers in South Africa had a positive impact on local jobs and earnings, estimating that each immigrant worker generated approximately two jobs for local South Africans.

These positive outcomes are largely attributed to higher rates of entrepreneurial activity and self-employment among migrants compared to local residents. By engaging in the informal economy and establishing small businesses, these individuals provide vital services and generate a multiplier effect that benefits the wider community.

That does not mean every foreign-owned business is good, lawful or fair, no economy works like that. It means the broad claim that foreign nationals are the reason South Africans are unemployed is not supported by the evidence.

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐥 𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐨𝐦𝐲 𝐚𝐬 𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐧

The informal economy also deserves a more honest conversation. In Q4 2025, Stats SA reported that the informal sector accounted for 21,4% of all jobs, the second-largest source of employment after the formal sector. These spaces are where millions of South Africans survive, trade, learn, hustle and build.

Instead of harassing informal traders, South Africa should be asking how to help more of them grow: how to make permits simpler, how municipalities can support trading spaces rather than destroy them, how to help spaza shops, hair salons, repair businesses, food traders and township manufacturers access finance, training, digital tools, bulk buying power and safer infrastructure.

𝐁𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐝

Which brings us back to Mandela, standing at that first ORT-STEP graduation of technology and science teachers, calling the organisation’s work an imaginative and far-reaching contribution to opening doors that had been closed to most South Africans, built on a partnership of educators, business and government.

At ORT SA, that partnership is the work we see every day: building skills, supporting teachers, opening pathways for young people, and helping communities access the tools that make participation possible. It is not dramatic work. It rarely fits into a slogan. But it is the work Mandela pointed to, patient, practical, partnership-driven, capacity building.

So, this Mandela Month, the 67 minutes’ worth giving might not be a single act of service but something smaller and more sustained: mentoring a young person looking for their first opportunity, supporting a skills or enterprise programme in your community, hiring locally where you can, or simply correcting the record in a taxi rank, around a Shabbos table, in a staffroom or a boardroom. Yes, the unemployment crisis is real. Yes, the anger is understandable. Yes, the state must do its job. But the fix was never going to come from fewer foreigners, it comes from more people equipped, and more doors held open.

Your Story, Your Draft

by marketing | Jul 8, 2026 | blog, News @ ORT

Your Story, Your Draft
By Mikayla Brown

We often hear the phrase, “You are the hero of your own story.” It sounds inspiring, but for the longest time, I saw it as just another comforting cliché adults used whenever life felt uncertain.

When I was around sixteen, approaching the final years of high school, the future felt overwhelming. It seemed like everyone around me already had an idea of what success should look like. Success meant pursuing a career that was stable, respected, and financially rewarding. I found myself surrounded by voices telling me what career path would make the most money, what would bring the most recognition, and what would make me successful in society’s eyes. For a while, I believed those voices.

I thought life had to follow a clear and predictable script. Study hard, choose the “right” career, follow the expected path, and success would naturally follow. But as I grew older and started making real decisions about my future, I began to realise something important: life does not come with a single script, and no one else should be writing mine.

Like every great story, life goes through many drafts. The final version rarely looks like the first outline we imagined. There are chapters filled with uncertainty, plot twists we never expected, and moments where we are forced to rewrite everything we thought we knew about ourselves.

At seventeen, while trying to discover who I was and what my strengths were, I struggled with one question: What do I actually want? That question changed everything.

For a long time, I believed I would pursue a career in law. It seemed like the sensible chapter to write in my story, stable, respected, and a career path that made sense to the people around me. On paper, it looked like the perfect direction. It offered security, recognition, and everything many people define as success. But deep down, I knew something felt missing. As much as law seemed like the practical choice, my passion lived elsewhere. I found myself drawn to writing, literature, storytelling, communication, and creative spaces where ideas could inspire, connect, and make an impact. Those were the things that made me feel alive.

The difficult part was not just admitting that to others, it was admitting it to myself.

Choosing not to continue pursuing law was not an easy decision. It felt like stepping away from a version of my future that everyone had already accepted for me. It meant walking away from certainty and choosing a path that felt far less predictable. What made it even harder was the doubt from others.

I heard the same concerns repeatedly: creative careers do not pay the bills, passion is not practical, and eventually I would need to choose something more “realistic.” Those words planted doubt in my mind. They made me question whether pursuing what I truly loved meant risking my future.

More than anything, I was afraid that choosing a different path would make me seem directionless or as though I lacked purpose.

At my current age, one of the biggest turning points in my journey has been the opportunity ORT SA gave me as a marketing and communications intern. ORT SA created an environment that allowed me to step into a career field I had once been too afraid to pursue. It gave me the space to grow in creative and communication-focused work and showed me that choosing a different path did not mean I had no direction.

Instead, it showed me that sometimes purpose is found in the very places we are afraid to explore. That experience taught me something powerful: purpose is not about fitting perfectly into society’s expectations. It is about discovering where your passion, strengths, and impact align.

My dad gave me a piece of advice that has stayed with me through every moment of doubt. He said, “Do what you love to do, and it won’t feel like a job.” Those words became a reminder for me whenever uncertainty crept in. That taught me that success is not only about earning a living; it is also about waking up every day feeling fulfilled by what you do. It is about knowing that your work reflects who you are and what matters to you.

Writing your own story starts with one simple choice, picking up the pen, do not settle for the pen in someone else hands just because they claim it writes better. Choose your own. Write in colours that reflect your personality, your passions, and your purpose. There will be rough drafts, mistakes, and chapters that do not go according to plan. But that is what makes your story real. The beauty of life is not in perfection, it is in authenticity. One of my favourite quotes by Nelson Mandela says, “It always seems impossible until it is done.” Sometimes the chapter ahead may feel impossible to write. The dream may feel too big, too risky, or too far out of reach. But growth often begins the moment you stop allowing fear to hold the pen. So, as you continue writing your story, ask yourself one important question, what do I want to be remembered for?

Do not let fear write your ending before your story has truly begun. Pick up your pen, trust your voice, and keep writing because no one can tell your story better than you.

The unfinished work of June 16

by marketing | Jun 15, 2026 | blog, News @ ORT

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐮𝐧𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐉𝐮𝐧𝐞 𝟏𝟔
By Ariellah Rosenberg, CEO of ORT SA

Every year, Youth Day asks South Africa to remember the courage of young people who stood against a system designed to limit their future. The young people of 1976 were not only protesting a language policy. They were rejecting an education system that prepared black children for a life of restricted opportunity.

Nearly five decades later, the laws have changed. The language has changed. The promises have changed. But for too many young South Africans, the outcome remains painfully familiar: they are still being educated into exclusion.

The crisis is not only unemployment. It is the collapse of the bridge between learning and earning.

According to Stats SA’s latest Quarterly Labour Force Survey, South Africa’s youth unemployment rate for those aged 15 to 34 stands at 45.8%. Among young people aged 15 to 24, it is 60.9%. These figures are often repeated, and perhaps that is part of the problem. They have become so familiar that they risk losing their shock.

Behind the percentages are young people who have done what they were told to do. They finished school. Some completed learnerships, short courses, diplomas or degrees. They applied for jobs. They rewrote CVs. They attended interviews. They waited. And still, too often, they remained outside the economy.

In South Africa, unemployment has begun to collapse the ladder of opportunity. Entry-level jobs are no longer reserved for young people entering the workforce for the first time. They are contested by graduates, retrenched workers, experienced adults and first-time jobseekers, all competing for the same narrow openings.

When everyone is forced to take whatever work they can find, the labour market becomes distorted. Young people lose the chance to start. Experienced workers move backwards. Employers raise the bar for junior positions. And the normal pathway from learning, to first work, to growth begins to disappear.

We see this in job adverts that describe a role as “entry-level” but still require two years of experience. We see it when young graduates are offered unpaid internships they cannot afford to take. We see it when employers say they cannot find work-ready candidates, while young people say they cannot become work-ready because nobody will give them their first opportunity.

This is the cruel contradiction at the centre of youth unemployment: young people are told they lack experience, but experience is treated as a reward rather than a starting point.

Training alone will not solve this.

South Africa has invested heavily in skills development, and rightly so. But skills without access to employers can become another waiting room. A certificate matters only if it helps a young person move closer to work. A programme matters only if it is connected to demand in the economy. A learnership matters only if it gives a young person more than temporary activity.

At ORT SA, we have seen how different the outcome can be when training is designed as a bridge, not an event.

One example is Sandile Mgobhozi, who completed ORT SA’s Big Data programme. The programme was not built around theory alone. It was designed to equip young people with digital and analytical skills that employers actually need. Sandile has since secured a permanent position at Cape Union Mart.

His story is important not because it is exceptional, but because it shows what should be normal. When a young person receives relevant training, workplace exposure, mentorship and a credible link to industry, employment becomes possible. Not guaranteed, but possible. That is already more than millions of young people are currently offered.

South Africa does not need another layer of well-intentioned programmes that keep young people busy without moving them forward. We need practical bridges into real work.
First, employers must rethink entry-level hiring. If a role is truly junior, it should not require years of experience. Companies can assess attitude, learning ability, communication, reliability and problem-solving without excluding young people before they begin. Work-readiness is developed through work, not before it.

Second, training providers and NGOs must build programmes with employers from the start. The question should not be, “What course can we offer?” It should be, “Where is there demand, what skills are missing, and what support will help young people survive the transition into work?”

Third, small and medium businesses need to be part of the solution. Large corporates cannot absorb all young jobseekers. SMEs are often closer to communities and can offer meaningful first-work opportunities, but they need support to host, mentor and retain young people. This could include wage support, practical HR guidance and simpler access to youth employment incentives.

Finally, we need to restore the idea of progression. A first job does not need to be perfect. But it must be a beginning. It must give a young person a reference, a routine, a skill, a network and proof that they can contribute.
The young people of 1976 fought against a system that told them their futures had already been decided. Today’s young people face a different system, but too many are receiving a similar message: there is no space for you yet.

In 1976, young people demanded the right to learn. In 2026, their children and grandchildren are still fighting for the right to earn.

June 16 cannot only be a day of remembrance. It must be a measure of whether we are building the systems that build the bridge from education to economic life.

What 90 Years Has Taught Us About The Real Work of Education

by marketing | Apr 29, 2026 | blog, News @ ORT

𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝟗𝟎 𝐘𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝐇𝐚𝐬 𝐓𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐔𝐬 𝐀𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐥 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐄𝐝𝐮𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧
𝐅𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐛𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐂𝐨𝐝𝐞: 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐉𝐨𝐛𝐬 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐝. 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐌𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐃𝐢𝐝𝐧’𝐭.
By Ariellah Rosenberg CEO of ORT SA
There is a photograph in the World ORT archive that stops you in your tracks.
Taken at King David School in Johannesburg in 1952, it shows children bent over wooden workbenches, hands moving with purpose as they learn woodwork, a reliable path to work in post-war South Africa.

It is a quietly powerful image. But what makes it remarkable is what it represents: ninety years of an organisation that has never stopped asking a simple question:

𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝 𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐝𝐨 𝐰𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐨𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐢𝐭?
That question has shaped ORT South Africa since its founding in 1936.
In the 1940s and 1950s, South Africa’s growing industries demanded skilled labour. ORT SA responded with precision, placing more than 1,200 individuals into 80 trades, from textiles and electrical work to mechanical engineering and the motor industry. Bursaries ensured financial barriers did not prevent access to opportunity.
The principle was already clear:
𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐚𝐜𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐝𝐯𝐢𝐜𝐞.

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐟 𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧
Sometimes the impact of education begins with a single conversation.
As a teenager, Beverly Cohen sat with an ORT counsellor unsure how to translate her many interests into a career. She excelled academically but felt pulled between science, music, and drama.
The counsellor listened carefully and suggested a path she had never considered: optometry.
That small suggestion shaped her future. Beverly went on to become a professor of optometry in the United States and later supported ICT programmes that introduced coding and robotics to South African schools.

𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐚 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐫.
𝐀 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐚 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐛𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧.
That is the long arc of well-timed guidance.

𝐀 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐲 𝐓𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐒𝐨 𝐃𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐎𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐲
The 1990s marked a turning point for South Africa. The end of apartheid reshaped not only politics, but access to education and economic opportunity.

ORT SA responded by expanding science and technology education. Through programmes like ORT-STEP, teachers in disadvantaged communities were equipped to deliver stronger mathematics and science education.

During this period, Terence Selwoa became the first Black student to receive an ORT SA bursary, a milestone that reflected a broader commitment to expanding opportunity in a newly democratic South Africa.

The transition to democracy was not only political. It was educational and economic, and closing opportunity gaps became essential.

𝐅𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐛𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐒𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐧𝐬
By the 2000s, the nature of work was changing again. Digital skills became essential, yet access remained uneven.
ORT SA followed the economy once more.

Teacher training expanded. Programmes introduced digital literacy into under-resourced communities. Initiatives supported educators in translating knowledge into effective teaching.

The guiding insight remained unchanged:
𝐦𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐩𝐞𝐨𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐚𝐫𝐞, 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐲𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐦 𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞.

Today, the pace of change is faster than ever. Artificial intelligence, automation, and emerging technologies are reshaping industries, while youth unemployment remains one of South Africa’s greatest challenges.

Through its Career Hub, STEM Academy, IT Academy, and entrepreneurship programmes, ORT SA is building pathways into the future of work, emphasising adaptability, problem-solving, and digital skills.
The workbench of 1952 has been replaced by screens.

But the principle remains the same:
𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐩𝐞𝐨𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐮𝐢𝐥𝐝 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐟 𝐯𝐚𝐥𝐮𝐞, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝.

𝐀 𝐅𝐮𝐥𝐥-𝐂𝐢𝐫𝐜𝐥𝐞 𝐅𝐮𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞
Tanaka began as a learner in ORT SA’s Let Kidz Code programme.
What started as basic exposure to coding became a pathway into opportunity.
Today, Tanaka works at the Raspberry Pi Foundation, helping review ORT SA as a strategic partner in delivering coding clubs that will reach thousands of learners across the Eastern Cape.

𝐀 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐚 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫.
𝐀 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐚 𝐝𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧-𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐫.
That is what long-term impact looks like.

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐀𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝
Across ninety years, ORT South Africa has remained focused on one truth:

𝙏𝙖𝙡𝙚𝙣𝙩 𝙞𝙨 𝙬𝙞𝙙𝙚𝙡𝙮 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙩𝙧𝙞𝙗𝙪𝙩𝙚𝙙. 𝙊𝙥𝙥𝙤𝙧𝙩𝙪𝙣𝙞𝙩𝙮 𝙞𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩.
Bridging that gap has defined ORT SA’s work for decades and will continue to shape its future.
The world beyond the classroom looks very different today than it did in 1936. But the mission remains the same:
𝙩𝙤 𝙝𝙚𝙡𝙥 𝙥𝙚𝙤𝙥𝙡𝙚 𝙛𝙞𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙞𝙧 𝙥𝙡𝙖𝙘𝙚 𝙞𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙡𝙙 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙚𝙣𝙨𝙪𝙧𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙖𝙘𝙘𝙚𝙨𝙨 𝙩𝙤 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙛𝙪𝙩𝙪𝙧𝙚 𝙞𝙨 𝙨𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙚𝙙 𝙗𝙮 𝙥𝙤𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙗𝙞𝙡𝙞𝙩𝙮, 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙘𝙞𝙧𝙘𝙪𝙢𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙣𝙘𝙚.

Are you part of the ORT SA story? We’d love to hear from you.
Share your journey with Ariellah: Ariellah@ortsa.org.za

What 90 Years Has Taught Us About the Real Work of Education

by marketing | Apr 29, 2026 | blog, News @ ORT

𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝟗𝟎 𝐘𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝐇𝐚𝐬 𝐓𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐔𝐬 𝐀𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐥 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐄𝐝𝐮𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧
𝐅𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐛𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐂𝐨𝐝𝐞: 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐉𝐨𝐛𝐬 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐝. 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐌𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐃𝐢𝐝𝐧’𝐭.
There is a photograph in the World ORT archive that stops you in your tracks.

Taken at King David School in Johannesburg in 1952, it shows children bent over wooden workbenches, hands moving with purpose as they learn woodwork, a reliable path to work in post-war South Africa.

It is a quietly powerful image. But what makes it remarkable is what it represents: ninety years of an organisation that has never stopped asking a simple question:

𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝 𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐝𝐨 𝐰𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐨𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐢𝐭?
That question has shaped ORT South Africa since its founding in 1936.

In the 1940s and 1950s, South Africa’s growing industries demanded skilled labour. ORT SA responded with precision, placing more than 1,200 individuals into 80 trades, from textiles and electrical work to mechanical engineering and the motor industry. Bursaries ensured financial barriers did not prevent access to opportunity.

The principle was already clear:
𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐚𝐜𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐝𝐯𝐢𝐜𝐞.

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐟 𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧
Sometimes the impact of education begins with a single conversation.

As a teenager, Beverly Cohen sat with an ORT counsellor unsure how to translate her many interests into a career. She excelled academically but felt pulled between science, music, and drama.

The counsellor listened carefully and suggested a path she had never considered: optometry.
That small suggestion shaped her future. Beverly went on to become a professor of optometry in the United States and later supported ICT programmes that introduced coding and robotics to South African schools.

𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐚 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐫.
𝐀 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐚 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐛𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧.
That is the long arc of well-timed guidance.

𝐀 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐲 𝐓𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐒𝐨 𝐃𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐎𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐲
The 1990s marked a turning point for South Africa. The end of apartheid reshaped not only politics, but access to education and economic opportunity.

ORT SA responded by expanding science and technology education. Through programmes like ORT-STEP, teachers in disadvantaged communities were equipped to deliver stronger mathematics and science education.

During this period, Terence Selwoa became the first Black student to receive an ORT SA bursary, a milestone that reflected a broader commitment to expanding opportunity in a newly democratic South Africa.

The transition to democracy was not only political. It was educational and economic, and closing opportunity gaps became essential.

𝐅𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐛𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐒𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐧𝐬
By the 2000s, the nature of work was changing again. Digital skills became essential, yet access remained uneven.

ORT SA followed the economy once more.

Teacher training expanded. Programmes introduced digital literacy into under-resourced communities. Initiatives supported educators in translating knowledge into effective teaching.

The guiding insight remained unchanged:
𝐦𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐩𝐞𝐨𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐚𝐫𝐞, 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐲𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐦 𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞.

Today, the pace of change is faster than ever. Artificial intelligence, automation, and emerging technologies are reshaping industries, while youth unemployment remains one of South Africa’s greatest challenges.

Through its Career Hub, STEM Academy, IT Academy, and entrepreneurship programmes, ORT SA is building pathways into the future of work, emphasising adaptability, problem-solving, and digital skills.

The workbench of 1952 has been replaced by screens.
But the principle remains the same:
𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐩𝐞𝐨𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐮𝐢𝐥𝐝 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐟 𝐯𝐚𝐥𝐮𝐞, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝.

𝐀 𝐅𝐮𝐥𝐥-𝐂𝐢𝐫𝐜𝐥𝐞 𝐅𝐮𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞
Tanaka began as a learner in ORT SA’s Let Kidz Code programme.

What started as basic exposure to coding became a pathway into opportunity.

Today, Tanaka works at the Raspberry Pi Foundation, helping review ORT SA as a strategic partner in delivering coding clubs that will reach thousands of learners across the Eastern Cape.

𝐀 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐚 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫.
𝐀 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐚 𝐝𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧-𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐫.
That is what long-term impact looks like.

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐀𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝
Across ninety years, ORT South Africa has remained focused on one truth:
𝐓𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐛𝐮𝐭𝐞𝐝. 𝐎𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐢𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭.
Bridging that gap has defined ORT SA’s work for decades and will continue to shape its future.
The world beyond the classroom looks very different today than it did in 1936. But the mission remains the same:
𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩 𝐩𝐞𝐨𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐚𝐜𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐟𝐮𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐛𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲, 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐜𝐢𝐫𝐜𝐮𝐦𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞.