SELLO SEITLHOLO

When I posted a short reflection on LinkedIn recently about being tired of summits and indabas, I assumed it would stay where most LinkedIn debates do: politely contained, a handful of comments, then silence.

Instead, the post did the total opposite. Engineers, mayors, consultants, innovators, academics and civic actors all jumped in.

Some argued that SA talks far more than it delivers. Others pushed back, insisting that summits are still essential for collaboration and shared accountability.

A few days later, the debate had spilt onto industry platforms, with one even describing the post as triggering a “bold revolt against summit fatigue”. In truth, revolt is not what I intended. But the intensity of the reaction revealed something important.

South Africans are no longer indifferent to the politics of water and sanitation. They are angry and impatient. Rightfully so. Water is not just a service; it shapes dignity, health, livelihoods and hope.

Water is not just a service; it shapes dignity, health, livelihoods and hope.
— Sello Seitlholo

And because water is deeply human, the perception that summits are “talk shops” resonates deeply and strikes a nerve.

And it would be dishonest not to acknowledge that the criticism has merit. Too many indabas end with eloquent communiqués and too few with implementation frameworks. And as the government, this is something we must acknowledge.

But the nuance that I think got lost online is that summits are not inherently the issue. Bad summits are.

I attend and speak at many of these platforms in SA and even abroad, and not only the ones organised by the government. The private sector, universities, think tanks and civil society convene crucial conversations.

These gatherings matter because the issues that affect the water sector are too complex, technical and capital-intensive to be solved in isolation. Innovation, finance, research and regulation do not meet each other by accident.

The question is whether these platforms produce implementable solutions afterwards. In our sector, we have examples that they can.

The 2025 national water and sanitation indaba did not just draft recommendations; it helped produce procurement models for non-revenue water reduction, advance alternative sanitation technologies, organise financing for reuse and recycling and establish better coordination between water services authorities and municipalities.

But here comes the uncomfortable part: implementation lives and dies at the municipal level.

National government can set priorities, allocate budgets and pass regulations, but municipalities repair leaks, run treatment works, manage wastewater, bill households and talk to communities.

They are the frontline of developmental administration. When they struggle, the public feels it immediately. When they succeed, dignity returns almost overnight.

That is why I will continue to say that if we fix municipalities, we fix half of SA’s problems.

This is not a provocation. It is the governance truth beneath service delivery, infrastructure and even coalition stability.

Water challenges expose capacity gaps, procurement delays, accountability failures and the limitations of fragmented local governance.

SA does not lack policy. It lacks execution. As a deputy minister, it pains me to admit this out loud, but it is very necessary.

So no, SA does not need fewer summits. It needs better ones. Summits that generate timelines, not talking points. Procurement pathways, not PowerPoint presentations.

And crucially, summits that strengthen municipal capacity instead of just producing conceptual consensus.

We cannot convene our way out of water challenges, nor can we abandon collaboration altogether. SA must convene differently, deliver collectively and implement relentlessly.

If summits remain talk shops, the public will treat them as theatre. If they become tools of execution, they can restore trust, not in speeches, but in services. Because water is life, and delivery is everything.