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The ID debacle that exposed a patriarchal system

Nicola Mawson|Published

Nicola Mawson, IOL Freelance Journalist

Image: Supplied

It was, of course, the perfect storm. Anything to do with government departments is pretty much a storm.

This time around, it was the Department of Home Affairs. My amazing kiddo is heading into matric and needs an ID to write finals.

Plus, she needs an ID to apply to universities because they won't – for whatever reason – accept any other form of identification.

It was time to brave the bureaucratic beast.

The booking nightmare

So, off to the Home Affairs website I go to book an appointment. This is a careful scheduling process. I need to be able to balance an appointment (needed) with school (also needed), especially exams when I suspect there may have been more gaps.

For reasons beyond everyone's control, a previous appointment during school hours had to be skipped.

This is when I discovered, logging on in November to try to get a slot in the first two weeks of January before school starts, that Home Affairs thought the world would come to an end on December 31, 2025.

Its calendar didn't extend beyond that date until around mid-December, when I was finally able to get a slot in Johannesburg's Newtown, which is not as safe as it was a few years ago.

No, you can't do first time ID applications at a bank. I don't know why either.

Conflicting information and safety concerns

Before embarking on getting the ball rolling on sorting out an ID, various people had told me various things about what was required. It seems that some people who were applying for an ID for the first time didn't need a parent. Others did.

With all this information at hand, and the fact that the area is a bit dodgy, I asked my ex-husband to take kiddo even though I bought her a taser for Christmas. We live in Jozi after all.

My ex drew the short straw because I work for myself, which means that – wherever possible – I am available when my clients need me.

So, I was working, including for IOL. And this worked out for us because the rest of SA Inc. is still closed.

Home Affairs has solution to get IDs to South Africans in far-flung parts of the country through partnering with banks.

Image: Stock Images

I also printed out the copies I'd been keeping safely on my PC—mom and dad's IDs and kiddo's birth certificate.

Then, for good measure even though there was a specific appointment, I sent along camping chairs.

I'd learnt that lesson when I renewed my driver's license and had to sit on the paving outside despite having an appointment.

The fact that I could only get that slot by paying a third party to book it—probably a whole scam involving reserved slots sold so everyone can be enriched—is another story.

The comedy of errors begins

Things started becoming a comedy of errors when my ex discovered he'd misplaced his ID in a safe place. Which should really not have been an issue. After all, I had sent along certified copies of everything.

Let's repeat that for the benefit of Home Affairs. Certified. Including a copy of kiddo's unabridged birth certificate, which she had with her anyway.

Thanks to a very helpful and nice policeman, this was sorted out. Kudos to the South African Police Services.

The real problem: Mom must be present

Then, at the application desk where you sit and hand in the forms to the actual Home Affairs person, a bigger issue reared its ugly head.

Apparently, mom needs to be there. One of my best friends was going through the same process at the same time but, because she is the momma, there was no problem.

This could, my ex said, cause an issue when Home Affairs processes the application, which had at least been handed in now.

I thought this all rather odd because it's not like my ex isn't listed on kiddo's birth certificate with his ID number. It's not like there aren't certified copies.

I, as one does, turned to Google. Gemini, its artificial intelligence tool, spat this back in response to "do you need the mom to apply for a child's ID South Africa".

Google misread my question, yet still gave me what I needed.

"Yes, generally for a child's first South African ID, at least one parent must accompany them to Home Affairs, bringing their own ID and the child's birth certificate, though rules can vary, with some suggesting the mother is often preferred, or an informant/social worker might assist if parents are unavailable, requiring affidavits or court orders. For applicants 16+, one parent's certified ID copy is needed, but actual presence can be inconsistent, with some branches requiring both parents or a guardian."

Inconsistent rules and forgotten families

Well, well. I should not have been surprised that there are inconsistent rules that various offices seem to make up as they go along. Of course, there's always the potential that Gemini made a mistake, although my gut tells me that this information is correct and I'm happy to roll with that instinct.

Here's the thing, though. These arbitrary rules make no allowance for the phenomenon that we have this thing called single dads in South Africa.

While Statistics South Africa's data tells us that only 4.3% of children live with their fathers, that's almost a million children. This calculation is based on the 4.3% rate from Statistics South Africa's latest General Household Survey and an estimated 21 million children aged 0–17.

That's almost a million children who will likely have to apply for Smart ID cards without a mom standing next to them.

If I had a crystal ball (which I don't, else I would have won the lottery), I would have thought to send along a certified copy of our divorce decree, which lists my ex as primary caregiver. I should, of course, have sent that along in addition to DNA samples for all of us (and the dog for good measure).

However, none of this should be necessary. All that Home Affairs should require is the child in addition to one parent and that said parent can prove they are who they say they are and there's a birth certificate.

That there may be an issue because mom wasn't there – and not for any other reason – is disappointing in today's environment.

Single fathers are not anomalies

Single fathers are a growing demographic globally.

Pew Research Center, as far back as 2013 nogal, analysed long-term US census data and found that the share of households with minor children headed by single fathers rose about ninefold from 1960 to 2011.

Single fathers now represent a larger share of all single-parent households than in the past, says Pew.

Granted, this is in the US. It is, however, a useful piece of research that shows a growing trend.

Dr Leon Schreiber, Minister of Home Affairs

Image: Ayanda Ndamane | Independent Newspapers

The minister's promises vs reality

Last July, in his Budget Speech, Minister Dr Leon Schreiber proudly claimed a department that was no longer a dysfunctional government department that had been known, in his words, as "the epitome of government failure".

Home Affairs, the minister confidently said, was moving "closer to our goal: digital transformation delivering dignity for all".

Schreiber also pointed out that the department had "enabled over 1.4 million naturalised citizens and permanent residents to obtain secure Smart IDs for the first time". Impressive numbers, perhaps, but what about the nearly one million children living with single fathers who need their first IDs?

The minister's speech was full of confidence with the implied subtext being that this was a department that was progressive and forward-looking.

That embraces current realities (look to its solution to get IDs to South Africans in far-flung parts of the country through partnering with banks as an example) and that is "on a transformative journey".

Of course, one must take this a step further and work out that the logical conclusion is that, if Home Affairs is progressive and egalitarian, it would not have archaic rules that privilege one parent over another.

No, no you are not, Minister. What your department is, and by implication what you are, can at best be described as sexist and at worst as patriarchal and I'm (as I sit working because I am a career woman, shock horror) disappointed.

Now we wait to see what will happen. Maybe sense will prevail.

**You can't make this up. Based on events of January 2, 2026

** Nicola Mawson is a freelance contributor to IOL.

** The views expressed do not necessarily reflect the views of IOL or Independent Media. 

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