For almost two years, I have been writing about the sad state of Cape Town. The budgets. The housing crisis.
The skewed priorities. The unaffordable municipal bills. The black books. The allegations of corruption. The distance between a city that celebrates its success and the Capetonians who are still waiting to experience it.
I've written article after article, challenged the figures, followed the money and asked difficult questions. Not because I hate Cape Town.
Because I love this city. Because this is home. Because its people are my people.
And now, with just days before the local government elections, I find myself reflecting on a much deeper question.
What is it that we, as Capetonians, actually need?
A city that works for all Capetonians
Not another promise. Not another billboard. Not another argument about which political party is worse.
We need a city that belongs to us. A city where our children can build their futures. Where our elderly can live with dignity. Where a working family can afford its municipal account. Where a young person from the Cape Flats can imagine a future beyond unemployment, gangs and despair.
And where the wealth and opportunities of this extraordinary city are shared more fairly.
I've been campaigning, speaking to people, listening. And one question keeps coming back.
“Faiez, how can you still campaign for the ANC? The ANC is corrupt. The ANC has lost its way.”
I don't run away from that question.
In fact, I agree that the ANC has lost its way in many respects. I've said so publicly, repeatedly.
Read my articles on the ANC's National General Council. Read what I've written about corruption, cartels, criminal networks and the failure of renewal. I've been among those inside the movement demanding that we confront the rot, not explain it away.
You can find those articles by searching Faiez Jacobs on IOL, including my writing on the ANC's failures and the need for renewal.
I have never believed that loyalty means keeping quiet.
I will not defend corruption because the person committing it wears the same political colours as me.
But then I ask another question.
Why is it that we can spend every day discussing corruption in the ANC, yet somehow avoid confronting what has been happening right here, in the City of Cape Town?
What about the allegations concerning the black books, JP Smith, the tender trail and housing related scandals? What about the questions I've raised over the years, including those involving Helen Zille and alleged intelligence activities?
Cape Town cannot escape scrutiny
These matters deserve proper, independent investigation. Allegations must be tested against evidence, not treated as convictions.
But there cannot be two standards of accountability.
If it's wrong in Pretoria, it's wrong in Cape Town. If it's corruption in the ANC, it's corruption wherever else it occurs.
I refuse to participate in this convenient politics of blame and distraction, where everything wrong in Cape Town is blamed on national government while the people who have governed this city for nearly twenty years escape serious examination.
The DA has governed Cape Town for almost two decades.
Surely that must count for something.
So let's ask the real question.
After twenty years, is your life getting better?
A budget must improve people’s lives
Can you afford your electricity? Your water? Your rates? Your rent? Can your children find work? Can they travel safely? Can they access opportunity? Can you walk through your own neighbourhood without fear?
I've examined Cape Town's budgets, including the approximately R87.8 billion proposed for 2026/27. I've written about housing allocations, the billions going into infrastructure, public land, delayed projects and the difference between money spent and lives improved.
I am not against infrastructure. I want more of it.
But I want to know who benefits.
The budget is not just a technical document. It is a statement of values. It tells us what the City considers urgent, whose needs are prioritised and whose hardship is treated as acceptable. My claim is that Cape Town's budgets reflect skewed priorities. They may be balanced on paper, but they do not always reflect the daily reality of working families, poor communities and people who are being pushed further from opportunity.
I've written about the Distance Tax, the cost of travelling from the Cape Flats to jobs and opportunity. I've asked why we celebrate housing pipelines while families are still waiting for actual homes.
I've called for a People's Return on the Rand.
Because a city cannot tell me how successful it is only by showing me its financial statements.
Show me what has changed in people's lives.
That's what matters.
Ten months ago, I calculated my own municipal bill and raised the question of whether the way these charges are imposed is consistent with the constitutional promise of dignity, equality and access to basic services. Since then, what has changed? Have bills become more affordable? Have families received meaningful relief? Have the City's priorities shifted? Or have residents simply been expected to carry more of the burden while being told that the system is working?
A municipality cannot hide behind legality while ignoring constitutional values. The Constitution requires government to serve the people, use public resources fairly and progressively realise access to basic services. If ordinary residents are paying more but receiving less security, less affordability and less opportunity, then we must ask whether the system is meeting its constitutional purpose.
And this is why I am standing as a ward candidate in the Rondebosch, Kenilworth and surrounding communities.
I bring more than thirty years of public service, governance experience, parliamentary oversight and community work. I know my strengths. I know what I can contribute.
Residents are paying the price
And I know many ANC candidates across Cape Town who are competent, capable, principled people, sons and daughters of the Cape Flats, people who have lived these struggles, who understand their communities and who genuinely want to serve.
Why must every one of us be painted with the same brush?
Judge us. Scrutinise us. Hold us accountable.
But give us a fair hearing.
There is another conversation that touches me even more deeply.
“Faiez, what about the Coloured child? We weren't white enough under apartheid. Now we're told we're not black enough.”
I hear that pain.
I'm Coloured. I'm Cape Malay. I'm a klong from the Cape Flats.
My roots are here. My heart is here. My story is part of the story of this city.
I know the history. I know the humiliation of apartheid classification. I know why people feel excluded, overlooked or left behind.
And where policies are unfair or badly implemented, we must challenge them.
But I'm not going to allow myself to be defined as a permanent victim.
I am an equal South African citizen.
I have rights. I have dignity. I have a Constitution that protects me, just as it protects every other South African.
And I want to say to my fellow Capetonians: claim your agency.
Why I’m putting my name forward
Don't allow politicians to divide and rule us. Don't allow anyone to convince you that another South African's progress must mean your defeat.
Broad Based Black Economic Empowerment includes Coloured South Africans. It was intended to redress the exclusion of people disadvantaged under apartheid. We must ensure it works fairly, that its benefits reach ordinary people, and that it doesn't become another instrument for the connected few.
But don't spend your life only complaining about someone else moving forward.
Stand up. Organise. Study. Build. Compete. Create. Demand your opportunities.
And challenge the barriers that still hold people back.
We must fight exclusion without surrendering our own power to act.
I refuse ethnic mobilisation that sets Coloured against African, or African against Indian, or any community against another.
That's not the Cape Town I believe in.
I believe in the Cape Town of our parents and grandparents. Of neighbours who shared what little they had. Of our mosques, churches, schools, sports fields, streets and communities. Of our humour, our languages, our music, our resilience.
A Cape Town where we can laugh together, work together, disagree without hatred and build something better for our children.
I'm not standing to serve one race or one section of the city.
I'm standing because Cape Town belongs to all of us.
Black, Coloured, White, Indian, we are equal citizens, with different histories but a shared future.
We need redress, yes. But also belonging. Affordability. Fairness. Opportunity. Accountability. Peace.
And we need to stop accepting the idea that our city's future has already been decided for us.
As this election approaches, I am not asking Capetonians to forget the ANC's failures. I have not forgotten them myself.
I'm asking you to apply the same standard to everyone.
Look at the record. Look at the candidate. Look at the competence, the character and the commitment.
Ask whether your life has improved. Ask whether it can be better.
Then make your own decision.
I have never stopped believing in the people of Cape Town.
The pain behind the politics
We have survived dispossession, apartheid, exclusion and hardship. We have built families, communities, businesses and institutions. We have produced extraordinary people from places that others were quick to write off.
I want our children to inherit more than our grievances.
I want them to inherit possibilities.
I love Cape Town too much to accept that this is the best we can do.
And I believe in Capetonians too much to accept that we are powerless to change it.
This is our city. Our dignity. Our future.
Cape Town belongs to all of us. Not just the few.
* 'Faiez Jacobs ANC ward 58 Candidate'
** The views expressed do not necessarily reflect the views of IOL.