Y20 South Africa 2025 distances itself from the NYDA-led Y20 activities
Y20 South Africa 2025, the official civil society-led youth engagement group of the G20, on Thursday distanced itself from an event recently publicised on social media platforms by the National Youth Development Agency (NYDA) as a 'Y20 South Africa'.
'Despite clear communication from the department of international relations & cooperation [Dirco] in a meeting held in January 2025 that the Y20 process is a civil society-led initiative and not a government-led one, the NYDA has proceeded to organise and promote its own 'Y20' activities.
'This action directly undermines the position of Dirco, which is the department officially responsible for the country's G20 presidency in 2025,' the group said.

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Eyewitness News
10 hours ago
- Eyewitness News
Local govt's role in solving global challenges can't be downplayed, says Joburg Mayor
JOHANNESBURG - Joburg Mayor Dada Morero says the role of local government in solving shared global challenges cannot be understated. He was addressing delegates at the African Mayors' Assembly and U20 Sherpa meeting in Pretoria on Thursday. Morero and Tshwane Mayor Nasiphi Moya are co-hosting the series of urban 20 events ahead of the G20 leaders' summit later in the year. ALSO READ: Tshwane Mayor Moya says solutions to challenges faced by local govt not out of reach He says mayors from cities around the world are central to the work of the economic bloc, adding they are better placed to drive national priorities into action. 'As we now convene in Tshwane to finalise the 2025 communiques, let us be bold, let us be unapologetic in asserting that cities are not junior partners in development, they are the engines of innovation, the custodians of resilience and the closest point of contact between government and the people.'


Mail & Guardian
10 hours ago
- Mail & Guardian
Gavin Evans on fathers, faith and fearless reporting in South Africa
Journalist and writer Gavin Evans When I meet Gavin Evans on a Friday morning, it's to talk about his memoir Son of a Preacher Man, which he's visiting South Africa to promote. But I'm more interested in hearing what it was like to report for the Mail & Guardian in the dying days of apartheid. Evans was one of the first reporters hired by the paper. It was the mid-Eighties, and Evans had just started his career in Gqeberha, then known as Port Elizabeth. 'My journalism career started at the Eastern Province Herald in '84,' he recalls. 'There was a company then called South African Associated Newspapers. They had a three-month programme and all the new journalists went through it. After that, you started at places like the Eastern Province Herald or the Post. I was on the Herald.' Evans' journey would soon take him to the Rand Daily Mail, Business Day and eventually the pioneering Weekly Mail, which would later become the Mail & Guardian. 'I knew Anton Harber because he'd also been at the Rand Daily Mail,' Evans explains. 'Irwin Manoim was there too, and Clive Cope was around. They were the three who set it up. I went along to the opening meeting and came up with story ideas. Initially, I was freelancing while working for the SAN Transvaal News Bureau. But then Anton offered me a job.' For Evans, joining the Weekly Mail was more than just a career move, it was a leap into a newsroom that operated with a shared spirit of purpose. Gavin Evans' father Bruce's consecration in 1975 'It was a wonderful working environment,' he says. 'Everyone got paid the same, from editors to everyone else. I don't know about the cleaning staff, but for all the journalists, it was the same salary. It was a brave decision but it worked for a while.' At the Weekly Mail, Evans carved out a distinctive voice. 'Initially, I was doing politics,' he says, 'but I knew a lot about boxing. So, I said, 'You guys need a boxing correspondent!' I wrote about boxing in a different way. The other boxing correspondents were white guys who didn't know any of the black boxers. I did. I had access nobody else had.' His work soon drew the attention of the Sunday Times, which asked him to be their boxing correspondent too. Evans also became the mysterious voice behind the Weekly Mail's satirical gossip column. 'No one was told except for a few people in the know who the writer behind it was,' he explains. 'We were poking fun at government people, and writing it in a tone of naivety, but of course it was all about exposing them. John Perlman did it before me, and then I was the writer of the column for probably the longest stretch — at least two years.' The era was dangerous for journalists willing to speak truth to power. Evans recalls the paper's investigative spirit, which led to the exposure of the so-called 'third force' — the apartheid state's clandestine efforts to foment violence. 'We broke the story of the Civil Cooperation Bureau (CCB), the state's assassination group,' he says. 'Military intelligence was funding Inkatha to hack people to death on the trains. We broke that story too.' Evans' investigations and his political activity with the ANC and SACP made him a target. In the late Eighties, he says, the CCB hired 'Peaches' Gordon, a killer from a notorious Cape Town gang, to assassinate him. 'His instructions were to stab me to death and steal my watch and wallet to make it look like a straight robbery,' Evans says evenly. 'But I was in hiding at the time. The ANC had said to me, 'You must go into hiding.' I stayed in 18 different houses in six months — all in Johannesburg. I'd move and move and move. He followed me to five houses but each time I'd already left weeks before.' Even the killer's ruse of offering sensitive documents, something that had once yielded a groundbreaking story for Evans, couldn't lure him out. 'He phoned me and said, 'I'm a comrade. I've got documents for you about the state. Can you meet me?' But there was something about him that didn't ring true. So I didn't turn up. It turned out to be my life he was after.' By the end of the Eighties, the Weekly Mail, along with international partners, had exposed the third force's operations. In the aftermath, the government scrambled to contain the fallout. A family portrait of Joan, Bruce, Michael and Gavin from 1965 'They set up a tame judge, Justice Harms, and the Harms Commission to investigate,' Evans says. 'They admitted all the failed assassinations, including mine. Peaches Gordon was arrested and gave a full statement, including in my case. Then they released him, but he was later killed by the CCB with a bullet to the back of his head.' Evans had a complicated relationship with his father, who was a man of peace, but also of contradictions. In Son of a Preacher Man, he grapples with these paradoxes — his father's fervent faith and quiet complicity, his support for his son's political defiance and his own hand in shaping a world where violence was a constant threat. 'I never even looked at my earlier book when I wrote this one,' Evans tells me. 'I wanted it to be fresh.' Son of a Preacher Man delves far deeper than his memoir, Dancing Shoes is Dead, which mingled his love for boxing with glimpses of his life. Here, the focus is squarely on the fracture between father and son, a rift that began one night when Evans was 14 and his father beat him with his fists — a rift that only healed decades later, after an exchange of letters. Listening to Evans recount his early years as a journalist in South Africa, it's clear that the violence of the state — detentions, beatings, tyre-slashings — took a toll on him. 'I thought none of this affected me,' he says. 'But it did. I was having dreams of being buried alive or escaping. I became more aggressive.' These traumas burrowed deep into his psyche, manifesting in ways he didn't recognise until much later. Yet even in the darkness, there were moments of almost cinematic defiance. Evans recalls the day security police barged into his house, threatening him over military service. 'They said, 'Either you cooperate, or the military police will arrest you at work.' I told them, 'Get the fuck out of my house!'' The next day, his motorbike's tyres were slashed. But in a surprising twist, his father quietly intervened. Using his weight as a bishop, he wrote to the authorities, arguing that his son deserved a delay in conscription. Evans only discovered this act of paternal protection after his father's death, when he stumbled upon the letters in a box of papers. 'It made me cry,' he says softly. 'We'd always had a bit of distance, but I never told him I was proud of him too.' That fragile reconciliation came just before his father's final decline. Diagnosed with motor neurone disease, he had less than a year to live. Evans speaks of those last months with a tenderness that cuts through the decades of conflict: 'We had our reckoning, and then it was gone.' If there's a thread running through Evans' life, it's the question of what it means to stand firm when the world seems determined to push you down. In South Africa, that meant working for the M&G during its tumultuous early years — reporting from a newsroom in Braamfontein, trading stories and dodging censorship, feeling invincible in his twenties, even as he was detained and assaulted by the state. Gavin Evans' last amateur fight in 1982 — a knock-out win. 'You think it's not affecting you,' he says. 'But it does. It seeps in.' After moving to England in the early Nineties, Evans continued to write and teach. Son of a Preacher Man is his ninth non-fiction book, and today he lectures first-year and postgraduate journalism students at Birkbeck, University of London. Evans, now 65, speaks of his family. 'I've got two daughters, Tessa and Caitlyn, both of whom appear in the book. Towards the end, there's a chapter about Tessa and her husband Ciaran and their son, Ferdi. 'The final chapter is all about Ferdi. You know, the book's about fathers and sons, and now it's also about grandfathers and grandsons, because I spend a lot of time with Ferdi. I adore him. He's three and three-quarters, and if you ask him how old he is, that's what he'll tell you — three and three-quarters.' These personal milestones deepened his understanding of the legacy of fatherhood, both in the book and in life. Reflecting on his days as a young journalist in South Africa and his complex relationship with his father, Evans sees his own journey as a testament to resilience and the redemptive power of storytelling. As he guides the next generation of journalists, he remains mindful of the lessons of the past and the bright promise of those still to come.

TimesLIVE
11 hours ago
- TimesLIVE
Urban 20 Africa mayors gather in Tshwane to help shape G20 agenda
African mayors are gathered at the Urban 20 meeting in Tshwane to discuss how their cities can take centre stage in shaping the narrative at the Sherpa meeting. The Urban 20 (U20) was launched in 2017 to bring together mayors from major G20 cities to inform the discussions of national leaders at the G20. Tshwane mayor Nasiphi Moya, who is hosting the first leg of the U20 cycle alongside Johannesburg, said it was opportune that the two cities were collaborating to advance their shared goals. According to the mayor of the capital, this was a signal that Africa was no longer waiting for a place in the global conversation, but was claiming its position with 'clarity, purpose and urgency'. 'This urban transition brings with it great potential. Our cities are becoming centres of innovation, climate action and economic activity. They are where the future of Africa is being shaped. But this future is not guaranteed. Urban 20 gives us a vital megaphone within the G20. It is our opportunity to inject African priorities into global policy, and to ensure that local voices shape global decisions,' said Moya. She presented the assembly's four themes, calling each one a lever for transformation. 'Inclusive economic growth is the first theme, highlighting the African continental free trade agreement as a 'vision for a collaborative future.' It is one of shared markets, cross-border industries, and cities connected by commerce, not conflict. But visions must rest on strong foundations. 'Are our cities ready to support this vision? Do we have the roads, the regulations, the ports, and the digital rails to make trade flow? We know that we are still far from achieving truly inclusive economic growth. But we also know that cities must be at the centre of this effort — because without inclusive cities, there can be no inclusive continent.' Moya said financing the urban future is the second pillar, calling a vision without funding an illusion. 'Too many African cities are shut out of global capital markets. We face barriers of creditworthiness, limited financial access and outdated legal frameworks that make investment difficult. If we are serious about building smart, green and resilient cities, we must rethink how we finance them. That means developing innovative funding instruments, creating tailored public-private partnerships, reforming our legal environments, and forging stronger alliances with those who believe in the potential of African cities,' she said. Third, Moya said, social inclusion and equity was paramount, adding that a city that grows without justice becomes a 'city of walls'. 'As mayor of the capital city in one of the most unequal countries in the world, I see the deep divide between the haves and the have-nots every day. Access to opportunity is not equal. Talent does not always meet support. Hard work does not always lead to progress. 'We cannot build thriving cities while leaving behind the homeless, the informal traders, or the youth with potential but no clear path forward. Cities must be built for dignity. That requires inclusive planning, targeted investment and policies that close the gap, not widen it.' The mayor urged African cities to work smarter, highlighting innovation as playing a key role in solving service delivery challenges. 'Technology will not solve everything, but it can help us deliver more with less. From digital permitting and e-governance to smart water meters and AI-enabled waste systems, innovation offers us practical tools to improve services and reach more people — faster and more efficiently. 'For a continent with the youngest population in the world, we cannot afford to be left behind as the rest of the world advances. Innovation must not be a luxury. It must be a tool for inclusion, equity, and delivery.' Johannesburg mayor Dada Morero described the co-chairship as symbolic, marking a practical demonstration of the power of intercity collaboration. He said it must be unity of purpose that defines the metropolitan agenda, as well as the leadership role African cities are called upon to play in the global discourse in urban transformation that must take centre stage. 'When we assumed the U20 chairship from São Paulo and Rio de Janeiro last November, we made a decision to bring the voices of African cities into the centre of G20 deliberations — not as peripheral observers, but as strategic contributors to the global future. 'Let us be unapologetic in asserting that cities are not junior partners in development. We are the engines of innovation, the custodians of resilience, and the closest point of contact between government and the people.' Johannesburg is expected to host its leg of the event, the U20 mayoral summit, in September. It is at this meeting that they are scheduled to finalise their communique and hand it over to the national leadership to ensure that urban priorities are integrated into the G20.