South Africa’s Disappearing Airfields: Are We Running Out of Room to Fly From?

By Garth Calitz

South Africa’s general aviation community has plenty to worry about. Fuel is expensive, maintenance bills have developed an alarming resemblance to small property deposits and regulatory compliance can sometimes feel like a full-time occupation. Now there is another question worth asking: what happens when the places we fly from begin to disappear?

Across the country, small airfields face a combination of infrastructure problems, financial pressures, development proposals and competition for land. Some struggle to maintain the basic facilities required for safe operations. Others find themselves surrounded by developments that may restrict their future growth or threaten the approaches pilots have used for decades.

There is no verified evidence that every small airfield in South Africa is about to vanish. But documented licensing disputes, reported infrastructure deficiencies, proposed developments near operating areas and uncertainty over replacement capacity point to a broader risk: the country may be allowing general aviation infrastructure to contract without first deciding what capacity it needs to retain.

There is the central question that needs to be answered. Are individual airfields facing isolated problems, or do these cases reveal a systemic failure to fund, regulate and plan for the network on which training, maintenance, emergency operations and regional connectivity depend?

After all, an aircraft is not particularly useful if there is nowhere left to land it.

The situation at Vereeniging Aerodrome illustrates how quickly infrastructure problems can become a wider aviation concern. In April 2026, reports emerged that the facility had lost its airport licence amid concerns about deteriorating perimeter fencing, missing approach lights, uncontrolled access and other maintenance problems. The reports raised fears that aviation training and other activities could be affected.

The story subsequently became more complicated. Sedibeng District Municipality disputed aspects of the reporting, stating that the aerodrome's licence had been cancelled in 2019 because of non-compliance with fencing requirements. The municipality also rejected claims that a R180,000 maintenance tender had been approved, saying it intended to pursue a private-sector partnership to rehabilitate the facility.

The verified point is that the public accounts conflict. The allegations about the condition of the facility, the timing and basis of the licence action, the tender and the proposed rehabilitation require documentary confirmation from the municipality, the South African Civil Aviation Authority and other relevant parties.

The broader problem is familiar to many municipal facilities. Airfields require regular maintenance, security, competent management and money. When these are neglected, the consequences are not merely cosmetic. Safety, access and the viability of businesses operating on the property can all be affected. A perimeter fence may not look particularly exciting in an aviation photograph, but it is rather more important than another ribbon-cutting ceremony.

Land pressure does not always arrive in the form of a formal housing development or a commercial property proposal. In many cases, informal settlements expand onto or around airfield land, creating immediate security, safety and governance challenges.

The once-loved Nylstroom, now known as Modimolle, is a particularly important example of the problem. The airfield has been affected by the growth of informal settlements and encroachment in its surrounding area, raising questions about the protection of the aerodrome, access to the runway and the ability of authorities to control land use around an operating aviation facility.

Informal settlement growth can compromise perimeter security, introduce people and animals into movement areas, obstruct access roads, interfere with emergency response and create hazards beneath approach and departure paths. It can also make future rehabilitation more difficult and politically sensitive, particularly where residents have established homes and livelihoods over many years.

This is not simply an aviation enforcement issue. Informal settlements often reflect a shortage of affordable housing, weak municipal planning, insecure tenure and the failure to provide basic services. Removing people without a credible alternative is neither a sustainable land-use policy nor a solution to the underlying problem. At the same time, allowing settlement to expand unchecked around an airfield can gradually make the facility impossible to operate safely. Authorities therefore need to address both sides of the problem: protecting the aerodrome and its operating environment while providing lawful, humane and properly serviced housing alternatives.

Nylstroom demonstrates why airfield protection cannot begin only after a runway has been occupied or a settlement has reached the fence line. Municipal spatial planning, land administration, aviation regulation and housing policy need to work together before encroachment becomes irreversible.

A runway is not an empty piece of land waiting for the next housing project, but neither is a community living beside it a problem that can be solved with a padlock and a warning sign.

An airfield can remain open while gradually losing its practical usefulness. Makhanda's Grahamstown Aerodrome provides a particularly important example. In November 2025, Grocott's Mail reported that the Grahamstown Flying Club had raised concerns about a proposed wind farm and electricity infrastructure projects that could affect runway approaches and departure paths.

The club warned that tall wind turbines and transmission infrastructure could constrain safe operations. It also highlighted the aerodrome's importance to flight training, tourism, conservation patrols, business travel and emergency medical services.

These concerns are raised by the club, which cites findings indicating that the projects will make the airfield unusable; questions have nonetheless been raised: What are the exact locations and heights of the proposed projects? What aviation and environmental assessments are applicable? Have obstacle assessments been completed? And have the developers and authorities reached an agreement on necessary mitigation measures?

An airport boundary does not mark the limits of the airspace required for safe operations. Aircraft need protected approaches and departure paths, and developments well beyond the fence can have consequences for the facility. The challenge is to coordinate infrastructure and renewable-energy development with established aviation activity before projects are approved and expensive conflicts emerge.

South Africa needs new infrastructure. It also needs to ensure that new infrastructure does not unintentionally undermine existing transport facilities.

Land is valuable, particularly around growing urban centres and highly sought-after industrial land. An airfield occupying a substantial area of land can look attractive to developers, especially where surrounding residential and commercial development is expanding.

Cape Winelands Airport illustrates the scale of the competing interests involved. The former Fisantekraal Airfield is intended to be redeveloped into a commercial airport capable of handling international services. The project has received environmental authorisation, and at present is scheduled to begin early in 2027.

The proposed development promises substantial economic opportunities and additional airport capacity. It also raises a practical question for general aviation: where will existing users operate if the redevelopment eventually requires them to relocate?

The answer is not necessarily that aviation will lose. New infrastructure can create opportunities, and private investment can provide facilities that public authorities struggle to fund.

The crucial question is whether replacement capacity becomes available on suitable terms and at the right time. An aircraft owner cannot leave an aeroplane parked in a press release while waiting for a new hangar to materialise.

Many smaller airfields operate in an uncomfortable space between public infrastructure and commercial property. They provide services that can benefit a wider community, but their income may depend on relatively small numbers of aircraft movements, hangar rentals, landing fees, fuel sales and club subscriptions.

Runways, fencing, lighting, drainage, security and regulatory compliance still cost money, whether five aircraft arrive in a day or fifty.

A notice published in the Government Gazette in April 2026 highlighted the wider financial difficulties facing publicly owned airports. It referred to more than 100 municipally and provincially owned airports that were unable to meet licensing requirements, citing limited management capacity, awareness, funding and the cost of compliance. The notice also recognised that many smaller, non-commercial aviation facilities cannot cover their costs through user charges alone.

Those statements establish a significant policy issue, but they do not by themselves show which facilities are at greatest risk or how much funding is required. The industry should make an attempt to identify the airports covered by the notice, the specific deficiencies involved, the cost of correcting them, the funding already allocated and the consequences if compliance is not achieved.

If a facility provides benefits beyond the immediate aviation community, should its entire financial burden fall on aircraft owners and operators?

Equally, public money cannot be spent indefinitely without accountability. Authorities must demonstrate that maintenance budgets are used properly, that facilities are managed competently and that investment produces measurable results.

There is little point in demanding that pilots comply with stringent safety standards while allowing basic infrastructure to deteriorate through administrative neglect.

The loss of an airfield affects more than recreational flying.

Flying schools need accessible facilities for circuit training and navigation exercises. Aircraft maintenance organisations need space to operate. Charter companies require suitable destinations, while agricultural aviation, conservation operations and emergency services depend on practical access to appropriate landing facilities.

Smaller airfields can also support local tourism and business activity, particularly in areas where road journeys are long or transport connections are limited. Closing a facility does not necessarily eliminate these activities, but it may move them elsewhere, increase costs or make certain operations impractical.

An airfield cannot simply be replaced by the nearest larger airport. Airspace congestion, landing charges, operating restrictions, hangar availability and distance from customers can all influence whether an alternative is viable. The result may be a gradual contraction rather than a dramatic closure. An airfield remains on the map, but fewer aircraft use it, businesses leave, facilities deteriorate and investment becomes harder to justify.

By the time somebody asks whether the facility is still worth saving, much of its value may already have disappeared.

South Africa needs a clearer picture of the state of its general aviation infrastructure. The central thesis is not that every airfield must be preserved indefinitely. It is that closures, licence failures, encroaching development and replacement projects should be assessed as parts of one national infrastructure question, rather than treated as unrelated local disputes.

The South African Civil Aviation Authority should be asked to provide historical data on aerodrome closures, licence suspensions, cancellations and recurring infrastructure deficiencies. Municipalities should disclose maintenance plans, budgets and outstanding compliance requirements. Developers should explain how proposed projects account for existing airfields and their protected operating environments.

Pertinent questions that need answering are:

• How many general aviation airfields have closed, lost licences or become materially less usable in the past decade?

• Which facilities are currently non-compliant, and what are the reasons, deadlines and estimated costs of remediation?

• Who is responsible for maintaining publicly owned airfields, and how is that responsibility funded and audited?

• Which proposed developments could affect established approaches, departure paths or future expansion?

• When an airfield is redeveloped or closed, what replacement capacity is available, at what cost and within what timeframe?

• What role do general aviation facilities play in training, maintenance, emergency services, conservation, agriculture, tourism and regional connectivity?

• Does national and local planning policy protect those functions, or does it address them only after development decisions have been made?

The aviation industry, meanwhile, needs to identify which facilities are strategically important and where investment or alternative arrangements are most urgently required.

There is also a role for flying clubs, aircraft owners and industry organisations. Local knowledge can identify emerging problems long before they become national headlines, but it needs to be supported by documentation, constructive engagement and credible proposals.

None of this means every grass strip must be preserved indefinitely. Some facilities may no longer be viable, and some may be better suited to alternative uses. The point is that decisions should be based on a proper assessment of the consequences, rather than allowing neglect or uncoordinated development to make the decision by default.

Because once the hangars are demolished, the runway is covered in concrete and the property advertisements go up, restoring an airfield becomes rather more difficult than maintaining one.

And no amount of enthusiastic talk about growing aviation will help if the industry eventually runs out of places to fly from.