In the early hours of a chilly autumn morning in Gugulethu township, just outside Cape Town, 67-year-old Nomvula Mbeki joins the growing queue outside the local SASSA office. She arrived at 4:30 AM, hoping to secure a spot near the front. By 6:00 AM, the line already snakes around the block. Mbeki, who depends on her pension grant to support herself and two grandchildren, hasn’t received her payment for the second consecutive month.
“I’ve been coming here every day for a week,” she says, adjusting the blanket wrapped around her shoulders to ward off the morning chill. “Yesterday, they closed the gates before I could get in. Today I thought, let me come when it’s still dark.”
Mbeki’s story has become distressingly common across South Africa in recent months, as the South African Social Security Agency (SASSA) transitions from government-managed disbursements to a system reliant on private banking institutions. What was meant to be a modernizing step has instead created a crisis for the country’s most vulnerable citizens, with reports of payment delays, system failures, and inadequate support emerging from all nine provinces.
The Scope and Impact of the Crisis
The transition to private banking for social grant payments affects approximately 18 million South Africans who rely on various forms of social assistance. This includes old age pensions, disability grants, child support grants, and the Social Relief of Distress (SRD) grant that was implemented during the COVID-19 pandemic.
For many recipients, these grants represent their only source of income. When payments are delayed or missing entirely, the consequences are immediate and severe. Families go hungry, medication goes unpurchased, school fees remain unpaid, and the precarious balance of financial survival that grant recipients maintain is shattered.
In Limpopo province, 45-year-old Thomas Maluleke, who receives a disability grant after losing his right arm in a mining accident, describes the ripple effects of payment delays: “When my grant doesn’t come, I can’t buy food. I can’t pay for transport to go to the clinic for my medication. My landlord doesn’t want to hear stories about SASSA problems—he wants his rent. It’s like the government has forgotten us.”
The Department of Social Development acknowledges the problems but characterizes them as “transitional challenges.” In a press briefing held last week, Minister Lindiwe Zulu stated, “We are aware of the difficulties some beneficiaries are experiencing and are working around the clock with our banking partners to resolve these issues. We ask for patience as we improve the system that will ultimately provide better service to all grant recipients.”
For those on the ground, however, patience is an unaffordable luxury.
Understanding the Transition
The shift to private banking for social grant disbursement wasn’t undertaken lightly. Following years of challenges with the previous system, including a Constitutional Court case regarding improper tender procedures with Cash Paymaster Services (CPS), the government sought a more sustainable, transparent, and efficient payment mechanism.
The new model involves partnerships with major South African banks and the South African Post Office (SAPO). Recipients can choose to have their grants deposited directly into accounts at various banks, or can use the SASSA card, which functions as a simplified bank account specifically for grant payments.
Dr. Emmanuel Sekyere, development economist at the Human Sciences Research Council, explains the rationale behind the transition: “The move toward financial inclusion through banking the unbanked has merit. It can reduce costs associated with cash handling, improve security for recipients, and potentially offer beneficiaries entry into the formal financial system.”
However, Sekyere notes that the implementation has been deeply flawed: “What we’re seeing is a failure to adequately consider the realities of grant recipients’ lives. Many live in areas with limited banking infrastructure. Others lack the digital literacy needed to navigate electronic banking systems. And the support mechanisms that should be in place during such a significant transition appear to be woefully inadequate.”
Internal documents from SASSA, obtained through a PAIA (Promotion of Access to Information Act) request by advocacy group Black Sash, reveal that officials had warned of potential disruptions months before the transition began. These warnings included concerns about technological readiness, staff training gaps, and the need for extensive community education campaigns—many of which seem to have gone unheeded.
The Banking Bottleneck
One of the central challenges in the transition has been the capacity of banking partners to absorb millions of new customers, many of whom have never held bank accounts before.
At a Capitec branch in Durban, branch manager Ntokozo Dlamini describes the overwhelming influx: “We’ve seen a 400% increase in account openings since the announcement. Our systems weren’t designed to handle this volume in such a short time. We’re doing our best, but there are backlogs at every stage of the process.”
Banks have reported technical glitches in their systems due to the sudden surge in transactions on payment days. ATMs run out of cash in grant-heavy areas, and in rural locations, banking infrastructure is often simply nonexistent.
Monde Mkalipi, who relies on a child support grant for her two children in the Eastern Cape province, describes traveling 47 kilometers to the nearest bank, only to find it overwhelmed with grant recipients: “I spent my last money on transport to get there. When I arrived, they said the system was down and I should come back tomorrow. Where am I supposed to sleep? How do I get back home with no money?”
The Post Office, which was meant to serve as a key distribution point, especially in rural areas, has its own set of challenges. Years of mismanagement and financial struggles have left SAPO with reduced capacity precisely when more is being demanded of it.
During a visit to the Mthatha Post Office, staff were observed turning away grant recipients, citing “system offline” as the reason. When questioned, a supervisor who requested anonymity admitted, “We sometimes have to tell people the system is down even when it isn’t because we simply can’t process everyone. We don’t have enough staff or working computers.”
The Digital Divide
The transition to banking also assumes a level of digital literacy and access that doesn’t match the reality for many grant recipients.
In a small village outside Polokwane, 72-year-old Kgomotso Raphela struggles to understand the new system. “They gave me a card and a PIN, but I never used these things before. My eyes don’t see well enough to read the small numbers on the machine. Last month, someone helped me, but they took R50 for helping. Is this right? That the government makes me pay someone to get my own money?”
Digital access is another barrier. While South Africa has relatively high mobile phone penetration, smartphone ownership and reliable internet access remain challenges, particularly among older and poorer populations—the very people most likely to be grant recipients.
The “Bridging the Digital Divide” initiative, which was supposed to accompany the transition with digital literacy training, has been inconsistently implemented. In major cities, some recipients report receiving helpful training sessions. In rural areas, most say they’ve received no support at all.
Linda Nkosi, a community development worker in Mpumalanga, has taken it upon herself to help local grant recipients navigate the new system. “I wasn’t asked to do this by anyone. I just saw our gogos [grandmothers] struggling and couldn’t stand by. Some days I help 30 or 40 people check their balances, change their PINs, or understand why their money hasn’t come through. The government should have people like me in every community, but they don’t.”
Administrative Chaos
Beyond the banking and digital challenges, recipients report encountering a bureaucratic labyrinth when trying to resolve payment issues.
Thabo Motsepe, a 56-year-old disability grant recipient from Soweto, describes his frustrating experience: “When my payment didn’t come, I went to SASSA. They told me to go to the bank. The bank said it’s a SASSA problem. SASSA then told me to call the helpline. The helpline never answers. I’ve been sent in circles for weeks while my family goes hungry.”
SASSA offices across the country are overwhelmed with similar cases. During visits to offices in three provinces, this reporter observed understaffed facilities struggling to handle the volume of inquiries. Many recipients were turned away without assistance, told to return another day due to capacity constraints.
An internal SASSA memo from February, leaked by a concerned employee, acknowledges the strain on the system: “Regional offices report capacity at 300% of sustainable levels. Staff morale is critically low. Without immediate intervention, including additional temporary staff and improved technical support from banking partners, the situation will continue to deteriorate.”
Despite these warnings, recipients report little improvement in service levels. The SASSA call center, which should be a critical support channel during the transition, is particularly problematic. Test calls placed to the official helpline during the research for this article rarely connected to an agent, with most attempts resulting in automated messages about “high call volumes” before disconnecting.
Vulnerable Groups Hit Hardest
While the payment delays affect all types of grant recipients, certain vulnerable groups are experiencing particularly severe impacts.
Recipients with disabilities face additional challenges navigating the new system. Disability rights activist Zandile Mkhize points out: “Many of our members with mobility impairments cannot stand in these long queues. Those with visual impairments cannot use the ATMs independently. The system seems designed without considering the very people it’s meant to serve.”
Elderly recipients also face disproportionate difficulties. Many express anxiety about using banking technology and fear becoming victims of scams or fraud. Reports of criminals targeting grant recipients, especially on payment days, have increased in several communities.
In Khayelitsha, community leader Sibusiso Xaba has organized volunteers to escort elderly recipients to ATMs and banks on pay days. “Our seniors are soft targets. Criminals know exactly when grant day is, and they wait. Since the new system started, we’ve seen more muggings because people are having to travel farther to get their money and often have to make multiple trips when the systems are down.”
Perhaps most concerning are the reports of increased food insecurity among children in grant-dependent households. Principals at schools in affected communities report higher absenteeism and more children coming to school hungry since the payment disruptions began.
“We’ve started using our school feeding scheme supplies to send food home with the most affected children,” says Fatima Hendricks, principal at a primary school in Mitchell’s Plain. “It’s not sustainable, but what choice do we have? Children can’t learn when they’re hungry.”
Government Response and Accountability
The government’s response to the crisis has been characterized by acknowledgment of the problems but limited effective action to resolve them.
In parliamentary questions, opposition parties have demanded accountability for the failed transition. The Democratic Alliance’s shadow minister for social development called the situation “a humanitarian crisis created entirely by government incompetence,” while the Economic Freedom Fighters have demanded the minister’s resignation.
The Black Sash, a social justice organization with a long history of advocating for grant recipients, has been documenting cases of payment failures and providing legal assistance to affected individuals. Their national director, Rachel Bukasa, doesn’t mince words: “This is not merely a technical failure; it’s a moral failure. When you make changes to systems that millions of people depend on for their basic survival, you have an absolute obligation to ensure those changes won’t leave people destitute. That obligation has not been met.”
Bukasa notes that the organization is considering legal action if significant improvements aren’t made quickly. “The right to social security is enshrined in our Constitution. The current situation represents a clear violation of that right for thousands of citizens.”
The Department of Social Development and SASSA have announced several measures aimed at addressing the crisis, including extended office hours, mobile service units for rural areas, and a pledge to clear all payment backlogs within 30 days. However, similar promises made in previous months have failed to materialize into meaningful change on the ground.
Community Solutions and Solidarity
In the face of government and banking system failures, communities have developed their own coping mechanisms.
In several townships, informal credit systems have emerged, with local spaza shop owners extending groceries on credit to regular customers whose grants are delayed. “I know these people, they’ve been my customers for years,” says shopkeeper Ahmed Patel in Eldorado Park. “If their grant is late, I let them take what they need for the children. They pay me when the money comes. We must help each other.”
Faith-based organizations have also stepped in, with churches, mosques, and temples organizing food distribution for affected families. In Cape Town’s Bonteheuwel area, a coalition of religious leaders has established a temporary soup kitchen specifically for grant recipients experiencing payment delays.
Community-based organizations are providing practical assistance, from helping recipients navigate banking apps to organizing transportation to distant banking facilities. In some areas, tech-savvy youth volunteers are paired with elderly recipients to provide ongoing support with digital banking.
These community responses, while inspiring, raise questions about a system that necessitates such extraordinary measures of mutual aid for its basic functioning.
Long-term Solutions and Recommendations
As the immediate crisis continues, experts and advocates are calling for both short-term interventions and systemic reforms.
Dr. Isobel Frye, director of the Studies in Poverty and Inequality Institute, argues for a dual approach: “In the short term, we need emergency measures—mobile payment points, temporary staff increases, and direct outreach to affected recipients. But longer-term, we need to reconsider whether a purely bank-based system is appropriate for all recipients.”
Frye suggests that a hybrid model, with multiple payment options including cash disbursement in underserved areas, might better serve the diverse needs of grant recipients. “One size does not fit all when it comes to financial inclusion. The goal should be providing reliable, dignified access to entitlements, not forcing a particular model of banking on everyone regardless of circumstances.”
Technology experts point to successful digital payment systems in other developing countries as potential models. Kenya’s M-Pesa mobile money system, for example, has achieved widespread adoption even in rural areas, thanks to its simplicity and extensive agent network.
Financial inclusion specialist at the University of Cape Town, Dr. Nomonde Ngwenya, suggests: “What’s needed is a system designed around the actual lives and capabilities of recipients, not an idealized notion of how they should interact with financial services. This means extensive user testing with actual grant recipients, multiple access channels, and robust support systems—all of which appear to have been inadequate in the current transition.”
The Human Cost
Beyond statistics and system failures, the true measure of this crisis is its human impact—the daily suffering of those caught in bureaucratic limbo.
In Orange Farm, south of Johannesburg, single mother Precious Moloi wipes away tears as she describes pawning her cell phone and her daughter’s school shoes to buy food after two months without her child support grant. “The worst part is the helplessness,” she says. “No one can tell me when this will be fixed or what I should do until then. It’s like we’re invisible.”
For Moloi and millions like her, social grants aren’t abstract entitlements but concrete lifelines. When those lifelines fail, the consequences are immediate and devastating.
As South Africa continues to grapple with high unemployment, inequality, and the lingering economic effects of the COVID-19 pandemic, the social grant system represents a crucial safety net. The current crisis raises fundamental questions about the government’s capacity to protect its most vulnerable citizens and about the appropriateness of private banking solutions for public welfare provision.
Back in the queue outside the Gugulethu SASSA office, Nomvula Mbeki’s patience is wearing thin as the morning progresses. “They tell us to be patient, but patience doesn’t feed hungry children,” she says. “I worked all my life, paid my taxes. Now in my old age, I have to beg for what is rightfully mine. Where is the dignity in this?”
As the sun rises higher, casting long shadows from those still waiting in line, her question hangs in the air—one that demands an answer not just from SASSA or the Department of Social Development, but from a society that measures its worth by how it treats its most vulnerable members.
This article was researched and written by Zintle Khumalo, a journalist specializing in social policy and human rights. Khumalo spent three weeks interviewing grant recipients, government officials, and experts across five provinces to compile this report.
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