70 Years After South African Women's March: 'This Is Not the Freedom We Fought For'

Johannesburg, South Africa – Seventy years ago, Sophie Williams-de Bruyn was just 18 when she joined some 20,000 women marching to the Union Buildings – the seat of the apartheid government – to protest the extension of pass laws to Black women.

On 9 August 1956, the women gathered in Pretoria with a petition against the laws restricting movement for Black people. Williams-de Bruyn was among the march's leaders, an event that became one of the defining moments in the country's liberation struggle.

This Sunday, at 88, she returned to the same grounds. The country around her has changed. Apartheid ended, South Africa became a democracy, and women have assumed some of the highest positions in government. The constitution guarantees equality and protection from discrimination.

But for many women, the freedoms won through that political transition have not yet brought security, economic opportunity, or reliable public services.

“How can we fully celebrate past victories when our present is so disappointing and deeply painful?” Williams-de Bruyn asked.

Her question set a somber tone for this year's National Women's Day celebrations, marking 70 years since the historic march.

What the women of 1956 achieved

The women who marched in 1956 were challenging one of the apartheid regime's most visible tools of racial control. Pass laws dictated where Black people could live and work, and the government planned to extend these restrictions to Black women.

They delivered a petition at the Union Buildings and stood in silent protest for 30 minutes before departing. The protest became a symbol of women's resistance and is commemorated annually as National Women's Day.

Nearly four decades later, apartheid was dismantled. The first democratic elections in 1994 brought a new political order, with a constitution placing equality and human dignity at its core. Women entered parliament in significant numbers and took up senior positions in government, the judiciary, and other institutions.

President Cyril Ramaphosa highlighted these achievements during Sunday's celebrations, pointing to South Africa's progress in women's political representation, education, financial inclusion, and participation in decision-making. Women now hold some of the highest positions, including chief justice, speaker of parliament, and public protector.

But political representation has not translated into equal economic security. “Women make up more than half the population, but they do not yet hold a fair share of the country's wealth, land, or businesses,” President Ramaphosa said.

Cassandra Dorasamy, an activist at Amnesty International South Africa, said that while the country has advanced in women's representation, she has not seen similar improvements in the lives of the majority of women.

Violence and fear

Nowhere is this contrast more stark than in South Africa's ongoing gender-based violence crisis.

The South African Police Service recorded 9,782 reported rapes from January to March 2026, along with 12,590 sexual assault cases. That translates to an average of about 108 reported rapes per day. Nearly half of reported rapes – 4,620 cases, or 47.2% – occurred at the victim's or perpetrator's home, according to police statistics.

Last November, the National Disaster Management Centre classified gender-based violence and femicide as a national disaster after sustained pressure from civil society organizations.

President Ramaphosa said women still live under the threat of violence “on the streets, and even in their own homes.” But human rights groups say the disaster declaration is only a first step. Dorasamy said Amnesty International hears stories from women who struggle to report cases, are dismissed when they report violence, or receive little information after filing complaints. Some women eventually withdraw their cases because the process is so difficult and exhausting that they no longer see the benefit of continuing.

The economic gap

The economic picture is similarly unequal. South Africa's unemployment rate stood at 32.7% in the first quarter of 2026, according to Statistics South Africa. For women, the rate was 36.4%, compared with 29.6% for men. For Black women, unemployment reached 40.5%.

Women are also less likely to participate in the labor force than men, at 53.8% versus 65.6%. Among those aged 15–24, 39.2% of women and girls were not in employment, education, or training, compared with 36% of men and boys.

For women trying to build independent lives, unemployment can increase dependence on relatives or partners, making it harder to raise children or leave abusive relationships. In poor and rural communities, these pressures often compound with limited access to land, productive resources, and public services.

The roots of these inequalities lie in the apartheid era and earlier systems of race-based property dispossession, which denied Black people access to land, capital, and economic opportunity. Women faced additional restrictions through discriminatory laws and social structures. Democracy changed the political system but did not erase decades of economic exclusion.

An unfulfilled promise

That contrast was at the heart of Williams-de Bruyn's speech. She described women as prisoners in their own homes despite democratic freedoms after apartheid, and spoke of poverty, homelessness, lack of clean water, and systemic corruption.

“We fought to break the yoke of systematic oppression against women on the basis of race, class, and gender,” she said, drawing a standing ovation.

The celebration also had an international dimension with the presence of Malala Yousafzai, the Nobel Peace Prize laureate. President Ramaphosa praised Yousafzai's courage and used the occasion to express solidarity with women and girls in Afghanistan – who are excluded from education, employment, and public life.

But it was Williams-de Bruyn's reflections that lingered long after the speech ended. Seventy years after that march, women hold positions of power almost unimaginable under apartheid. Yet for millions, violence, unemployment, poverty, and weak public services still define what freedom means in daily life.

“This is not the freedom we fought for.”