The cancer of corruption has metastasised at Gauteng Department of Health

Shadow State: Why Babita Deokaran had to die”, by News24 journalist Jeff Wicks, Macbeth’s words seemed a fitting way to describe the ANC leadership in Gauteng. These leaders, who run a government that is supposed to provide essential health services to 16 million people, come from a party that has a noble lineage. However, once in power, ANC leaders assumed they had a divine right to rule.

Tempted by the proximity of vast sums of easy money, many of its leaders evolved into a sovereign mafia that has robbed the Gauteng government blind — at an inestimable cost in human life and dignity.

They behave as if they are accountable only to themselves. No amount of protest seems to shame them.

“The Shadow State” is an anti-monument to this party.

It’s a masterclass in investigative journalism that should be taught to future generations of journalists. But its subject is a forensic analysis of the cancer of corruption that, untreated, has metastasised across the Gauteng government, its Department of Health in particular.

Finally, it’s an indictment, hopefully a curse from the grave, by those who have been killed and harmed by corruption.

“J’accuse!” say the dead. “You may not be in prison, but you must all be assumed guilty until proven innocent.”

“The Shadow State” reignited my anger, as it should yours.

I found the description of Babita Deokaran’s shooting, her last minutes on a life-support machine with her daughter and brother by her side, painful to read.

But even harder is the story of her six-month suspension from her job in 2019 — something she didn’t even tell her family about. Two years before her murder, Deokaran was sent home on false charges because her bosses rightly presumed her incorruptible and needed her out of the way.

“The Shadow State” made me angry at the treatment of Deokaran and the callousness with which her assassination was planned and executed.

It made me angry at Lerato Madyo, the former CFO of the Gauteng Department of Health, who Wicks says now goes under the name Daniella Molapo. The book strongly suggests Madyo may have allegedly tipped off the looters that Deokaran was on to them. Madyo was the only person who knew Deokaran had compiled a report about the suspicious activities at Tembisa Hospital.

Wicks writes:

“Babita told them where to look, but instead of implementing her recommendations, her boss, Madyo, decided to launch the unguided compliance audit. That’s like the trauma surgeon who sees that his patient has been shot in the face but starts by examining another patient’s feet.”

It made me angry about the way our state fails us at every level, including the basics of policing, safety and security. Acts of malicious omission characterised the Hawks’ misinvestigation into the Tembisa Hospital skulduggery, so the looters got away with murder. Literally.

I’m angry that a government that so many dreamed of and fought for has been infiltrated by cold-blooded, greedy, cynical thieves.

How to steal a provincial health department  

I’m angry about the masquerade of decency and the outrageous pretence of concern for the poor affected by Gauteng Premier Panyaza Lesufi; I’m angry at the pro-poor populism he and his comrades spout to cover his tracks.

We see you.

Wits Professor Alex Van Den Heever and I estimate that close to R20-billion has been stolen from the Gauteng Department of Health in the last 1o years. It’s an informed calculation.

That scale of theft makes Jacob Zuma look like a clumsy shoplifter.

I’m angry about that.

I’m angry about the R2-billion spent on alternative building technology (ABT) hospitals, the “fogging” scandals, the R500-million wasted on “revamping” a hospital in Carltonville, and the other Covid-19 PPE heists.

I’m angry about the at least R77-million spent on legal fees for former health MEC Qedani Mahlangu to defend herself in the arbitration and then the inquest into the Life Esidimeni deaths.

I wonder if they’ll be paying for her in her probable criminal prosecution?

I’m angry about the rampant robbery going on at the Gauteng Department of Social Development (DSD), which Wendy Orr and I projected at up to R2-billion, based on documents and internal investigations given to us by a whistleblower. I’m angry that 13 senior DSD officials suspended by former MEC Mbali Hlophe were all reinstated by her successor as MEC for social development, Faith Mazibuko.

I’m still angry about the R450-million that was stolen from the Department of Basic Education in the school fogging scandal.

I’m angry about the small number of politicians who suffer temporary career setbacks — Sello Sekhokho, Khusela Diko, Bandile Masuku, Zweli Mkhize — when their misdemeanours are uncovered, but who are all making a comeback to future positions of leadership in our government.

I’m angry that alleged thieves, whose names we now know — Stefan Govindraju,  Hangwani Morgan Maumela and others — may yet get away with most of this.

I’m angry that — DESPITE ALL THIS — the looting and maladministration at the Gauteng Department of Health continues, with Lesufi last year appointing a head of department, Arnold Malotana, who is himself the subject of a Special Investigating Unit investigation into corruption at the department.

I’m angry that thieves prey on the public and private health system, secure in the knowledge that with the police, intelligence and criminal justice system in disarray, they can continue their plunder with aplomb.

I’m angry that the children of these crooks, ensconced in private schools, amass millions through their parents’ misdeeds.

Finally, I’m angry for Babita Deokaran, Shonisani Lethole (who starved to death while being cared for at Tembisa Hospital), Thato Moncho (now dying of cancer because treatment came too late), Christine Nxumalo, the sister of Virginia Machpelah, and the family members of the 143 other patients who died in the Life Esidimeni tragedy.

I hope that citizens will rise against this, that the recently published National Anti-Corruption Advisory Council recommendations on how to prevent systemic corruption will be implemented with urgency, and that one day this will end.

I know that writing truths like this could earn me an inkabi’s bullet, but I refuse to be silent. If we surrender our right to express our anger and point fingers at the thieves, assassins and their enablers, we might as well be dead anyway. DM

This article is an Op-Ed, short for “opposite the editorial page”. Op-Eds allow authors who are not part of Daily Maverick’s team of journalists to express opinions, perspectives and arguments on various issues of public interest. The views expressed are those of the author/authors and do not necessarily represent the views supported by Daily Maverick.

This article was updated on 12 September to correct that the current MEC for social development is Faith Mazibuko and not Faith Muthambi.