When the state fails to protect you, self-defence isn’t a luxury; it’s a necessity

In August 2025, I was ambushed in Nyanga while returning from an oversight visit. Bricks smashed through the vehicle windows.

Both my colleague and I were injured. I was armed, and I used my firearm to defend myself and those with me.

That moment highlighted a question I have been asking in Parliament for years: When the state cannot protect you, who can you rely on?

This reality was driven home once again by a video circulating online from Pinetown. In the footage, a man and his family members are seen leaving their property when a vehicle suddenly stops and armed men jump out, opening fire on their car in an attempted hijacking. Because the driver was armed, he was able to fight back, protecting himself and his loved ones from what could have easily become a tragedy. But it forces us to ask a chilling question: what if he had not been armed? In a country where the state’s protection is often too slow or absent, the ability to defend oneself is not a luxury, it is a necessity.

Psira: A regulator that cannot regulate

The Private Security Industry Regulatory Authority (Psira) oversees a sector valued at about R50-billion annually, employing more than 600,000 people.

The private security industry is now the fourth-largest in the world, with in-service personnel numbering roughly 2.4 times the combined strength of the South African Police Service and the national defence force.

Yet Psira itself is in crisis. Parliament’s Portfolio Committee on Police, which I chair, has repeatedly condemned the entity’s persistent governance failures.

As recently as last week, we expressed serious concern that Psira continues to operate without a duly constituted council, the very body that serves as its accounting authority.

Without a council, the CEO is in effect performing oversight over himself.

The consequences are tangible. A R129-million training scheme linked to the Unemployment Insurance Fund was referred to the Special Investigating Unit after only 118 of 6,507 pupils were accredited.

The position of supply chain management manager has been vacant for more than 24 months, yet the entity continues to underperform on procurement laws.

Here is the fundamental contradiction: Psira cannot even manage its own finances, yet the government expects it to effectively regulate an industry that deploys armed personnel across the country.

The economics of firearms: A sector under attack

The debate around the Firearms Control Amendment Bill ignores a critical reality: the lawful firearms sector is not merely a regulatory matter, it is a significant economic contributor.

The broader firearm ecosystem supports more than 1.8 million jobs and contributes between R150-billion and R160-billion to the national economy annually.

This includes retail, training, hunting, conservation, private security and tourism.

The firearms trade alone generates R2-billion to R3-billion in direct retail revenue and employs more than 9,000 people.

Hunting activities generate between R14.2-billion and R45-billion annually.

The private security industry, valued at R500-billion and employing more than 570,000 registered officers, is fundamentally dependent on lawful firearm access for armed response, cash-in-transit protection and VIP security.

Disarm these companies and you do not create safety. You create chaos, and you destroy a sector that already serves as a critical force multiplier for an overwhelmed SAPS.

The legal reality: The ConCourt has spoken

In Minister of Police v Fidelity Security Services (2022), the Constitutional Court confirmed a crucial principle: firearm licences do not terminate permanently when they expire.

Holders may apply for new licences through proper procedures.

The court rejected the notion that persons whose licences have lapsed are forever barred from lawful possession.

But here is the problem: the Central Firearms Register is broken. The government’s own 2015 Firearms Review described it as “technically collapsed, institutionally incoherent, and incapable of maintaining accurate records”. Renewal applications plummeted from 213,631 in 2021-22 to 55,936 in 2024-25 – a 74% decline.

This is not because gun owners have become criminals.

It is because the administrative system has failed them.

Meanwhile, more than 3,400 SAPS firearms were lost or stolen between 2019 and 2024.

The Prinsloo scandal where police Colonel Christiaan Prinsloo sold state-issued firearms to gangsters saw weapons linked to more than 1,000 murders in the Western Cape.

The Hawks still cannot confirm how many of these guns have been recovered.

What this means for the ordinary South African

Between October and December 2025, 6,351 South Africans were murdered – 71 per day, nearly three every hour.

In the same quarter, 11,430 rapes and 6,730 attempted murders were recorded.

In many serious crime categories, the detection rate hovers around 12%.

Nine out of 10 serious crimes do not result in a detected suspect.

Without detection, there can be no prosecution. Without prosecution, there is no deterrence.

Now ask yourself: In a country where the state fails to solve nine out of 10 serious crimes, where police stations are underresourced and response times stretch to hours, where should law-abiding citizens turn to?

The Firearms Control Amendment Bill, as currently drafted, would strip lawful self-defence of legitimacy by requiring “exceptional circumstances”, limit ammunition to 100 rounds per firearm and expand ministerial discretion over who may be armed.

It would criminalise collectors and undermine dedicated sports shooters, the backbone of responsible firearm culture.

The path forward

The DA will oppose this Bill in Parliament.

We will mobilise communities, raise public awareness and, if necessary, challenge it in court.

We have called for the withdrawal of both the Psira regulation amendments and the Firearms Control Amendment Bill, to be reconsidered in full.

But our position is not about ideology. It is about a simple sequencing of priorities:

First, fix the SAPS. Restore the Central Firearms Register. Recover stolen police guns. Address corruption.

Second, fix Psira. Appoint a council. Recover misspent funds. Enforce consequence management against noncompliant security companies.

Third, and only then, discuss further restrictions on those who have done everything the law requires of them.

Until that day comes, any attempt to disarm law-abiding citizens is not safety policy. It is scapegoating. It punishes the compliant for the failures of the state.

In Nyanga, I learnt something that no parliamentary briefing can teach: when the state fails, you are your own first responder.

The 71 people murdered every day do not have the luxury of waiting for the system to be fixed.