Ah, Chief Dwasaho! I wish I had hours to sit with popcorn and watch the soapie at the Madlanga Commission. While the nation clutches its pearls, I spot a tender green shoot sprouting from our compost heap of captured institutions: the wizardry of Vusimuzi “Cat” Matlala. Henceforth, elevate the gentleman to National Key Point status; roll out the blue carpet and the blue lights, grant him the courtesies reserved for the aristocracy of the revolution. After all, few men have curated the state’s attention so efficiently — police, politicians, metro officials, traffic cops, and even the high priests of public procurement.
My leader, if the Madlanga Commission of Inquiry is a public theatre, then Cat is its lead actor, director and lighting engineer.
The Blue-Lights Messiah
My leader, let us start with the lights. Not a metaphorical illumination, but those flashing badges of state authority usually fitted to police vehicles and beloved by the Blue Light Brigade (VIP Police Unit). Testimony before the commission and a flurry of newsroom ink put “blue-light blessings” squarely in Cat’s garage.
South African Police Service (SAPS) Lieutenant General Nhlanhla Mkhwanazi told the inquiry: “The installation of blue lights on Matlala’s private vehicles was unlawful. This was not done covertly; it was facilitated by law enforcement itself.”
The Star has reported that Matlala’s vehicles were fraudulently registered as municipal assets and fitted with blue lights.
The WhatsApp oracle
My leader, our protagonist, The Cat with Nine Lives, is not merely a connoisseur of chrome and sirens. There is choreography in his information flows. In his evidence-in-chief at the Madlanga Commission, Mkhwanazi described how a civilian network, fronted by Brown Mogotsi, an alleged ministerial (on-leave Senzo Mchunu) associate, circulated sensitive police material on WhatsApp.
Mkhwanazi mentioned screenshots, occurrence-book entries and even slides from a Crime Intelligence briefing to the minister. He warned of Mogotsi’s “astonishing level of access”. News coverage of the hearings has detailed these WhatsApp exchanges and their implications for state security, including reports and live updates from News24, and an Eyewitness News report.
Sidekick and side hustle
Every folk hero needs a ledger. Ours begins with four companies. In his failed bail bid, Matlala told the court: “I’m self-employed as the director of four companies, namely CAT VIP Protection Pty Ltd, Lux South Africa Investments Pty Ltd, Black AK Trading, and Medicare24 Tshwane District Pty Ltd.” That is on record.
Although National Police Commissioner General Fannie Masemola revealed before a bewildered Madlanga Commission that Cat, in his magnanimity, somehow serves as a Deputy National Commissioner of Crime Detection (without Masemola knowing), we must marvel at the theatre. SABC News reported that Matlala’s phone records linked him to suspended Deputy National Commissioner Shadrack Sibiya, and the hot potato of disbandment of the Political Killings Task Team, casting shadows over senior ranks, according to people who lack foresight. Abana dankie.
My leader, the Cat is only guilty of concealing his side gig at the SAPS for obvious security reasons. What a legend. This good Samaritan still finds time to moonlight as a crime-buster between tenders, alleged hits on enemies, court appearances, renting a mansion in Waterkloof Heights, Pretoria, and splurging on lavish feasts, a R200,000 Rolex watch and designer bags.
He confirmed having access through rental/ownership of a luxury penthouse suite at The Capital Menlyn Maine hotel in Pretoria. Yet, he claimed a monthly income of R250,000 from his four enterprises. Hail the Cat. I don’t buy it (maybe it’s part of his modesty), although I confess, I am almost envious of the understated earnings, the lifestyle, the handshakes in high places, and the hobnobbing with low-road fixers who truly make things happen.
Numbers are numbering
But the real arithmetic lies in his tenders and real estate. His company Medicare24 Tshwane District secured a R360-million, three-year SAPS health services contract in 2024. The deal covered medical surveillance, wellness screenings and injury assessments, according to the Medical Brief report. The Cat did so without any prior knowledge or experience of the sector. According to the Cape Times, that contract was later cancelled after irregularities were flagged. The fallout was immediate: Matlala testified that 52 workers lost their jobs when the SAPS pulled the plug.
AllAfrica added that the cancellation came just weeks after a secret meeting between Matlala and then police minister Bheki Cele at a luxury villa, with investigators alleging that fraudulent documents and fronting underpinned the contract.
At that same bail hearing, Matlala disclosed he had two prime properties: a house in Midstream Ridge, Ekurhuleni, valued at about R6.6-million, and another in Mamelodi East, Pretoria, worth about R1.1-million. Putting them side by side, his declared property portfolio totals around R7.7-million, not counting vehicles, furniture, business investments or undeclared realty.
Add in reports of a R9-million Rolls-Royce Wraith, mansion rentals, cosmetic surgery and designer spending that were exposed in News24’s 9 Lives series. That is the scale of the alchemy stage: companies, tenders, houses, cars. Ask whether his budget of illusions matches the state’s tolerance. My leader, I might be onto something when I say the Cat’s declared income is modest compared to the property portfolio and wheels. I love him for that; a good man lives beyond his creditors.
Why Cat must be declared a National Key Point
My leader, let us confront the elephant in the room: we cannot confine Cat Matlala to the footnotes of commissions and bail hearings. He belongs in the pantheon of National Key Points, protected under guard and fenced with barbed satire. Comrade Leadership, imagine the possibilities.
First, the tourism dividend. South Africa has already milked Robben Island, Vilakazi Street and the Mandela Capture Site. But have we considered a guided tour of Cat’s Midstream Ridge mansion? Picture school buses pulling up, learners clutching packed lunches, guides announcing: “On your left, the R6.6-million Fortress of Prestidigitation; on your right, the driveway where the Rolls-Royce Wraith once glistened.” Local entrepreneurs would sell fridge magnets, “Hail the Cat” T-shirts and replica police blue lights — social cohesion through shared mockery — all inclusive.
Memes and emojis
Second, the airport strategy. Why not install Cat’s bronze effigy at the arrivals terminal, perched on a plinth surrounded by flashing LEDs, welcoming tourists with the message: “Welcome to South Africa, where even procurement has nine lives.”
Emoji-hungry travellers will pose for selfies, and hashtags like #NationalKeyCat will trend globally. The memes will flow, my leader: Cat straddling a Rolls-Royce, Cat forwarding WhatsApp dockets, Cat sitting discreetly in Cabinet, and perhaps seated beside General Masemola at Police HQ.
Beyond orange overalls
Third, correctional services. Our prisons are overcrowded; our parole boards are in disrepute. Why not outsource rehabilitation to Cat? As a national asset, his erstwhile cell could be converted into a museum of resilience, offering guided lectures on “How to Survive Nine Lives without Breaking a Sweat.” Imagine inmates drawing inspiration: if Cat can juggle tenders, court appearances, and side gigs at Crime Detection, perhaps they too can dream beyond orange overalls.
Fourth, the monument economy. Our squares are clogged with bronze horses and marble fountains, relics of colonial curatorship. Replace them with monuments to the Cat. A giant handbag in Sandton, symbolising his taste for luxury. A revolving siren in Pretoria, honouring his mastery of the blue-light lifestyle. A WhatsApp-logo-shaped sculpture in Durban, reminding us of government decisions.
The Matlala curriculum
Fifth, the new curriculum. We must integrate Cat’s wisdom into Life Orientation. Learners can study “The Cat’s Sorcery” — public procurement 101, luxury property management, and the subtle art of not giving a f**k. Examiners could ask: “Explain how a modest R250,000 monthly income sustains a R7.7-million property portfolio. Illustrate your answer with emojis.” Young scholars, at last, will connect theory with lived experience.
My leader, the designation of Cat as a national endowment would remind us daily of the blurred line between state and drug/crime cartels. To the Loyal Five readers of this column, this is the Unauthorised Biography of Vusimuzi “Cat” Matlala.
Till next week, my man. Send me to the Madlanga Commission, I want to be a mosquito in the hall. DM