Editor, mentor: To all who knew him, Dennis Pather was more than
an editor. He was a conscience – a Durban son whose commitment to
ethical journalism shaped generations. Photo: Shelley Kjonstad
Journey’s end will be at a 160-year-old Durban church for renowned veteran journalist and retired editor Dennis Pather, who passed away last weekend, aged 80.
Pather’s body will lie in state from 10am to noon at St Thomas Anglican Church in Musgrave Road — a spiritual home he and his wife Kay, a former bank employee, cherished throughout their retirement.
He will be cremated later in the day at Stellawood Cemetery, where scores of colleagues, friends, and former protégés are expected to gather in final tribute.
For months, Pather had battled failing health, yet he persisted in doing what he loved most: writing. Even as his strength waned, he continued to file columns for local newspapers, holding onto the craft that shaped his identity and earned him national respect. The news of his death has drawn an outpouring of tributes from across the country’s media fraternity.
“Dennis Pather is in a better place now, free of pain and tiredness,” said Geeta Maharaj, his long-time secretary at The Post, the Indian community newspaper Pather edited at the outset of a distinguished editing career at Natal Newspapers and Independent Newspapers.
Over the years, he served as editor of the Daily News, The Mercury and Sunday Tribune, cementing his place as one of KwaZulu-Natal’s most influential newsroom leaders.
The South African National Editors’ Forum (Sanef) praised Pather’s legacy in a formal tribute, highlighting the publication of his autobiography Copy Boy: A Journey From Newsroom Gofer to Award-Winning Editor.
“His remarkable career spanned decades,” Sanef noted, “during which he made significant contributions to South African journalism and mentored countless aspiring journalists.” It is this mentorship — patient, firm, and quietly transformative — that many in the industry cite as his most enduring gift.
The symbolism of receiving news of his passing on Robben Island was not lost on this writer. I was in the company of one of Pather’s closest political peers, Dr Saths Cooper, chair of the Robben Island Museum Council, who had presided earlier that morning over the island’s 10-kilometre race and walk.
Cooper, Pather, Strini Moodley and Dr Aubrey Mokoape shared a deep bond forged in the crucible of Black Consciousness activism in the 1970s. Their political journeys began on the old Indian university-college on Salisbury Island and later extended to the University of Durban-Westville, where Cooper eventually became the last vice-chancellor before its merger into the University of KwaZulu-Natal.
Pather also played a decisive role in shaping newsroom transformation. As a young journalist, I owe much to him and to colleagues like the late Ticks Chetty, who stood with him during the formation of the Writers’ Association of South Africa at the Palm Springs Hotel — the forerunner of the Media Workers’ Association of South Africa.
The historic 13-week strike in the 1980s, which brought the printing presses to a halt, forced the industry to confront racism in newsrooms and opened pathways for journalists of colour to become editors, foreign correspondents and political reporters.
Even after undergoing triple bypass heart surgery during his editorial years, Pather remained undeterred. He continued writing incisive socio-political commentary, always with that familiar blend of wit, calm authority and cutting clarity.
His journalism career began in the bustling Indian quarter of Grey Street at The Leader and The Graphic, apartheid-era tabloids that gave voice to the province’s largest Indian community.
His big professional break came at the Daily News, where he rose from reporter to editor and remained to celebrate the paper’s 140th anniversary.
His international exposure was equally rich. From 1983 to 1985, Pather worked at the Argus Company’s London bureau on Fleet Street. In 1987 he won the prestigious Nieman Fellowship at Harvard University, spending a year among some of the world’s leading journalists.
But to all who knew him, Dennis Pather was more than an editor. He was a conscience — a Durban son whose commitment to ethical journalism shaped generations. His humour, nuance, humility, and deep humanity ensured that every story he told carried not only insight, but heart.
He leaves behind his wife Kay, adult children and grandchildren, a grateful media fraternity, and a journalism landscape immeasurably enriched by his presence.