By Rabbie Serumula
Food is supposed to sustain life, not end it. But in Soweto, a tragic reversal of that promise unfolded, leaving six children dead and entire communities shattered. This is no ordinary loss—it is a preventable catastrophe that has exposed the fragility of trust between parents, schools, vendors, spaza shops and the society meant to protect children.
What should have been a simple act—purchasing a snack—has turned into a tragedy that speaks volumes about the systemic failures surrounding food safety and community responsibility.
The most recent loss, after battling for his life in the hospital, seven-year-old Katleho Olifant, died on the same day of the mass funeral of the five other learners who lost their lives in the same suspected food poisoning incident. He was the last survivor of a food poisoning incident that took the lives of five other children. His mother, Lydia, was left to confront the agony of watching her child fight against a poison that should have never been on their plates. Katleho’s death adds another layer of sorrow to an already devastating narrative.
But this tragedy does not end there. Just days ago, 25 learners from Mshuluzane Mayisela Primary School fell ill after eating snacks purchased from street vendors. In Limpopo, another 22 children were hospitalised due to suspected food poisoning. These incidents are not isolated; they are symptoms of a larger epidemic.
Parents should not have to live in fear that the snacks bought for their children could be deadly. Yet, here we are—a community in mourning, faced with a crisis that underscores a glaring neglect of food safety regulations. The Gauteng Department of Education has promised investigations and support, but these assurances ring hollow when weighed against the reality of loss. The time for promises has long passed; what is needed now is accountability and action.
This is not merely a failure of vendors or schools; it reflects a broader societal neglect where the safety of children is too often compromised. Innocent lives are lost to avoidable tragedies—the symptoms of a system that allows profit over safety, convenience over care.
How many more children must suffer before decisive action is taken? How many more families will be left shattered by grief before we confront the systems that allow such neglect to persist?
Communities must come together to demand better—better regulation, better education on food safety, and stricter consequences for those who jeopardise the health of our children. We must recognise that the price of negligence is paid in lives; it is a steep cost that no parent should ever have to bear.
Families are not just burying children; they are burying trust in a system that has failed them. And as we stand on the sidelines, watching this unfold, we must ask ourselves: When will we choose to act? When will we ensure that our children can safely enjoy their snacks without the fear of the unknown?