Calvin Rafadi is a Research Associate at University of Johannesburg.

He recently published an opinion article that first appeared in the Times Live on 11 July 2025.

On the surface, it’s ubuntu — but in reality it is a form of transactional exploitation that threatens the moral and social fabric of our communities

South Africa has long prided itself on being a society rooted in the spirit of Ubuntu  which is the idea that “I am because we are.” It is a principle that emphasizes compassion, solidarity, and communal support.

Yet, beneath this ideal, an alarming and corrosive culture is quietly spreading in many townships, rural areas, and even within the middle class: the phenomenon known as Mavuso” .

What was once a term associated with helping or supporting someone in need has been twisted into a form of transactional exploitation that threatens the moral and social fabric of our communities.

Mavuso, in its current township slang usage, refers to transactional sex  with consent, often involving older men providing money, groceries, or favors in exchange for sexual acts with much younger women or, disturbingly, even younger boys.

Some defenders might dismiss this as mere survival tactics in a country plagued by high unemployment and poverty.

But such rationalizations are dangerous. They normalize exploitation, mask gender-based power imbalances, and foster environments where abuse and manipulation become routine and a high risk of transmitted diseases.

A Hidden Driver of Gender-Based Violence (GBV)

It is naive to believe that Mavuso is a harmless exchange between consenting adults.

The reality on the ground tells a darker story.

Disputes arising from unmet expectations, especially money not paid, demands escalated, or broken agreements  which often surface into acts of gender-based violence and lead to the disappointed outcome of a criminal case against the other person.

Police stations across South Africa are littered with cases that originate from these exploitative arrangements.

More alarmingly, a significant portion of these cases are later withdrawn at the police station level or at courts by alleged victims “

Most of the time is because a settlement is then reached by both parties on the matter or sometimes it is due to fear of retaliation, especially if intimidated by the perpetrator(s) , or social stigma, the result is the same: justice is delayed or denied.

The withdrawal of such cases not only emboldens abusers but also sabotages the credibility of the justice system as they are so well planned by the alleged victims “ It furthermore creates a chilling effect, where real victims  of such crimes , who are living in constant fear of violence  , end up suffering to be taken seriously by the other law enforcement or other community members.

A Justice System Undermined

The South African Police Service (SAPS) is already stretched thin.

Officers are overwhelmed, resources are limited, and morale is low.

Social media often erupts with fury when the public perceives police inaction , but few understand the complexity behind these failures.

Case withdrawals, fabricated accusations, and community pressure all muddy the waters, making it harder for officers to effectively respond to genuine cases of abuse in our communities

False claims or manipulated withdrawals damage more than just statistics.

They erode public trust. When law enforcement cannot reliably distinguish between genuine and deceptive cases, everyone loses  trust, and most of all, the actual victims of GBV and femicide suffer more

The Health and Social Fallout

The dangers of Mavuso extend beyond physical violence.

Reports indicate that in many of these transactional encounters, condoms are deliberately not used.

This leads to increased rates of sexually transmitted infections (STIs) and unintended pregnancies  outcomes that become tools for further coercion and blackmail in some situations

Men, especially those with reputations to protect  their stature whether in marriage, community, or business  reputations often succumb to extortion to keep these Mavuso “relationships secret.

This creates a vicious cycle where exploitation is incentivized, health risks escalate, and community values deteriorate.

We Must Name It to End It

The uncomfortable truth is that Mavuso culture flourishes because we, as a society, allow it. Our silence, our justifications, and our reluctance to confront uncomfortable truths give it oxygen.

Poverty and unemployment are real, but exploitation cannot be the solution , especially when it undermines our justice system

Ending this harmful culture requires a multi-layered approach:

• Community Accountability.

Families, faith groups, and community leaders must openly condemn and dismantle the normalization of transactional sex rooted in exploitation.

• Education and Empowerment: Young people need access to education, job skills, and mentorship that provides alternatives to dangerous survival strategies.
• Strengthening the Justice System: The SAPS must be supported with better resources, training in handling GBV sensitively, and tools to manage complex cases involving manipulation or intimidation.
• Victim Support: Withdrawal of cases often happens because victims feel unsafe or unsupported.

More shelters, legal aid, and psychosocial services are critical to breaking this pattern.

• Responsible Media Engagement: Influencers and media personalities should avoid knee-jerk condemnation of law enforcement without context, while simultaneously holding systems accountable for meaningful reform.

Conclusion

Mavuso is more than just a slang term , it is a reflection of a crisis in our society where poverty, gender inequality, and broken justice systems intersect.

It represents a betrayal of the very principles of compassion and mutual support that our communities are supposed to embody.

South Africa cannot claim to be serious about combating gender-based violence, femicide, and exploitation until we confront this uncomfortable reality head-on.

The time for silence has passed. Our communities must choose: either we normalize exploitation, or we reclaim the values of dignity, respect, and justice

*The views expressed in this article are that of the author/s and do not necessarily reflect that of the University of Johannesburg.