News that the Special Investigating Unit (SIU) found three coordinated syndicates are at the centre of looting more than R2bn meant for healthcare services at Tembisa Hospital is certainly not unexpected, but the sheer scale is sickening.
The stink of the Tembisa scandal, which came into the national spotlight after the assassination of whistle-blower Babita Deokaran in August 2021, was laid bare at a briefing by the SIU, Gauteng premier Panyaza Lesufi and health minister Aaron Motsoaledi.
Deokaran, who was the chief director of financial accounting in the Gauteng health department, was shot dead shortly after dropping her child at school. It later emerged that her murder was linked to attempts to stop her exposing the fraudulent network siphoning millions from the hospital.
A year after her murder, the office of the premier, then under David Makhura, engaged the SIU to conduct a forensic probe based on Deokaran’s report dated August 4 2021, which has now fingered the hospital as the epicentre of large-scale looting.
It exposed three syndicates linked to businessman Hangwani Morgan Maumela for procurement bundles worth R816.5m, with allegedly dodgy service providers. These include three companies connected to attempted murder accused Vusimuzi Matlala; tenderpreneur Rudolph Mazibuko, who pocketed R283.5m in contracts; and a third as yet unrevealed individual who scored R596.4m from the beleaguered hospital.
The SIU’s Andy Mothibi said evidence showed corrupt payments totalling R122.2m were made to officials and employees of the Gauteng health department and Tembisa Hospital, with “at least 15 current and former officials having been identified in activities including corruption, money-laundering, collusion and bid rigging”.
The audacious, large-scale corruption that has robbed presumably tens of thousands of innocent South Africans over the years who need these basic services, and whose access to such is enshrined in our constitution, is certainly worth the ‘throw the book at them’ reaction by those in power.
The syndicates paid R16m to six hospital clerks, R7.3m to an assistant nurse and R67m to their managers to unlock their more than R2bn payouts.
The audacious, large-scale corruption that has robbed presumably tens of thousands of innocent South Africans over the years who need these basic services, and whose access to such is enshrined in our constitution, is certainly worth the ‘throw the book at them’ reaction by those in power.
Among those whose righteous indignation was palpable on Monday was Lesufi, as the politicking front for the 2026 local government elections shifts into gear.
Lesufi wants accountability, including lifestyle audits for all Gauteng heads of department, the director-general, MECs and himself.
To be fair, under his watch the issue of audits has been a bone of contention in Gauteng with serious pushback from managers, as these are seemingly not regulated, but Lesufi says this process is now in its final stages.
Motsoaledi’s reference to China’s punitive measures of executing those guilty of graft may be extreme, but it says something about the level of frustration at an epidemic which has unravelled the moral fabric of our society.
His point, however, about ensuring corrupt officials are not recycled - to prevent them from resurfacing and rearing their insidious ways into other public spheres - is spot on.
Perhaps a register of corrupt officials or public servants - like those of convicted sex offenders - should be something the justice department considers.
The health minister’s reference to a whistleblower, Mr T, who lives in hiding because of two attempted hits to silence him, resonates with and rankles honest and decent citizens. After all, they ultimately pay the price for the self-enrichment of the unscrupulous who literally get away with murder (as Motsoaledi rightly put it) “in their Lamborghinis”.
For the sake of Deokaran and dozens of other whistle-blowers - including the ANC’s Sindiso Magaqa, anti-corruption activists Mpho Mafole and Mr T - who paid the ultimate price for doing the right thing, those implicated, from the junior officials to the masterminds, need to face the full might of the law.
A solid case needs to be built to ensure the designer clothes, fancy mansions and supercars are swapped for orange jumpsuits in 60-square foot concrete cells courtesy of the correctional services department for a long time.
Would you like to comment on this article?
Sign up (it's quick and free) or sign in now.
Please read our Comment Policy before commenting.