Day Zero – the dreaded day on which Cape Town's taps are expected to run dry – has been moved forward to April 22. That is unless residents reduce usage even further and the long-awaited alternative sources, like desalination plants and boreholes, come onstream.
These saving-grace projects are running behind schedule, although drilling on the Cape Flats aquifer has at last started.
These essential projects are expensive, however, and someone has to foot the bill. Enter the proposal tabled by mayor Patricia de Lille for a drought levy.
The levy is being proposed because the dramatic drop in water usage has meant a large shortfall in projected revenue. The city's estimated water budget deficit ballooned to R1.7-billion for the 2017-2018 financial year, based on consumption figures for October 2017.
To offset this shortfall, the mayor has proposed an additional, temporary fix in the form of a drought levy. If given the go-ahead by national finance minister Malusi Gigaba, the levy would come into force on February 1. It's expected to raise R1-billion annually for the four years it's proposed to run.
The other hurdle the levy has to clear is that it needs to be approved by Cape Town's city council. Internal politics in the Democratic Alliance (DA), which governs Cape Town and Western Cape, might scupper it. The DA executive has done an about-turn on its own proposal and called on its councillors to vote against it.
Whatever the outcome, I believe that the levy is a bad idea. The main reasons are that it will be punitive (contrary to the mayor's claim that it won't be), because it will penalise people who have made an effort to save water. It will also punish those who have invested in installing water-saving measures in their homes.
Rather than a drought levy, would it not be more sensible to increase the cost of water and penalise high consumers?
The workings of the levy
The proposed levy would be based on property values and calculated at between 10 percent and 11 percent of the rates portion of the municipal account. The charge would affect owners of properties valued at more than R400,000, and business properties valued at more than R50,000.
On the face of it, the monthly charge doesn't seem excessive. After all, the city does need extra major water infrastructure, as well as ongoing funding for basic services like sanitation.
But the drought levy is unfair, because it's based on property values and not on water use. After all, a person in a R2-million home may use less water than a person residing in a R400,000 home -- yet has to fork out more for the drought levy.
So instead of serving as a consumption charge like normal rates, the drought levy is, in fact, a punitive tax -- something that is severe, and that people will struggle to pay.
To add insult to injury, many Capetonians have incurred huge costs by installing water-efficient devices, grey-water solutions and rainwater harvesting tanks -- all at their own expense. No tax savings or rebates were offered by the city.
These water saving-items could also increase the value of the property, possibly making the levy higher. Rather than a drought levy, would it not be more sensible to increase the cost of water and penalise high consumers?
Alternatively, the city could redirect funds from its overall R44-billion budget to cover the shortfall.
The complications
Cape Town is in a difficult position. The city was declared a local disaster area in March 2017, with the aim of invoking emergency procurement procedures and obtaining emergency funding. But the national government has dragged its feet.
The department of water and sanitation has been accused of neglecting its constitutional duties by flouting the principles of cooperative governance. Helen Zille, premier of Western Cape, has also stated that the department has no money for capital infrastructure because of irregular, fruitless and wasteful expenditure.
Now is not the time to penalise property owners for investing in alternative water technologies and for heeding the city's call to save water.
Another challenge facing the city is that the levy might, in fact, be illegal – because it could be in contravention of municipal fiscal powers and functions as set out in the Constitution. The local government might have overstepped its legislative authority by fulfilling a national obligation -- imposing a levy -- that should rest with the department of water and sanitation.
However, none of these reasons give the city the right to pass the buck to already overburdened taxpayers. As the blame game continues to rage, the DA's executive has instructed its city councillors to vote against the levy when it comes under consideration at the next council meeting at the end of January. Their reason? The levy would "create an undue burden on ratepayers".
Now is not the time to penalise property owners for investing in alternative water technologies and for heeding the city's call to save water. The drought levy could break the trust between the public and local government and ultimately result in a rates boycott.
Whether this crisis is due to climate change, poor planning, bad politics or a combination thereof, a drought levy may well be the straw that breaks the thirsty camel's back.
* This post originally featured in The Conversation and can be viewed here.