Why the case against Mapisa-nqakula matters

In March 2013, Lt-col William Bucibe clambered into a stormwater drain in the Central African Republic (CAR) to collect the remains of Corp Ntebaleng Mogorosi, killed by a rocket-propelled grenade (RPG) in the Battle of Bangui.

After putting Mogorosi’ in a body bag, he ordered troops to lift his shattered corpse out. Only, the body bag split halfway up, discharging Mogorosi s remains into the ditch.

“We had to go back again,” the hardened soldier told the authors of The Battle of Bangui: The Inside Story of South Africa’s Worst Military Scandal Since Apartheid.

This was, Bucibe railed, a failure of the South African National Defence Force (SANDF) procurement division writ large. Shoddy workmanship, it seemed, in service of greater profits.

Then there was the shortage of radios — and the fact that seven of those that were delivered simply didn’t work.

And soldiers were left without reinforcements after a chartered flight arrived in the CAR almost a week late.

According to a memo seen by the authors of The Battle of Bangui, a senior officer suggested the company had won the tender despite charging far more than its competitors.

Bangui is a crisp example of the callous disregard for the conditions soldiers face on the ground in lethal combat situations and an object lesson in the potentially devastating consequences of questionable procurement processes.

Which is why the case against Nosiviwe Mapisa-nqakula is so important.

The former National Assembly speaker has been charged with 12 counts of corruption and one of money-laundering for allegedly accepting more than R4m in bribes from a military defence contractor while she was the minister of defence.

Nombasa Ntsondwandhlovu, the business person at the centre of it all — and now state witness — claims she paid the money to Mapisa-nqakula in return for lucrative defence contracts.

The whole affair would amount to political satire if its consequences weren’t so potentially deadly.

It’s a microcosm, in other words, of everything that’s wrong with South Africa.

First off, there’s a high-level politician apparently accepting bribes.

This cash — code-named “wigs”, among others — was allegedly stashed in high-end handbags for handoffs in VIP areas, the Sunday Times previously reported.

Then there’s Nolusapho Mgwebi, wife of director of joint operations Derrick Mgwebi, who is alleged to have received R1.3m, channelled through a company called Perfume de Lux, as City Press reports.

Incidentally, Ntsondwandhlovu ’ s fellow tenderers apparently included a company that owns a single taxi, and a purveyor of stationery.

Don’t forget Mapisa-nqakula herself.

She resigned, ostensibly to protect the integrity of parliament, for which President Cyril Ramaphosa lauded her moral rectitude, unbelievably telling us “her level of integrity for our democracy has made her do this. That should be commended and applauded.”

Only, this may be more about expedience than principle. City Press quotes a source as saying Mapisa-nqakula was asked to resign. That would save the ANC from having to defend her against a no-confidence motion ahead of a crucial election.

There’s also the outrageous argument that she shouldn’t be remanded because that would be “cruel punishment”.

There’s the overcrowding, drugs, gangs and poor ablution facilities, she moaned. Medical facilities are inadequate.

She’s simply too frail to endure such conditions. Besides, Jacob Zuma got a free pass.

It smacks of the arrogant assumption that politicians shouldn’t be subject to the same conditions and treatment as the average Joe.

It’s indicative of political elites who make policy around health care, education and security, yet rely on private providers for these services.

Add to the mix a National Prosecuting Authority (NPA) that just for a change doesn’t seem to know entirely what’s what.

As City Press tells it, “the NPA’S left hand didn’t know what the right hand was doing” as it tried to prosecute Ntsondwa-ndhlovu

even as the Investigating Directorate was relying on her as a state witness.

This all comes as SANDF forces in the Democratic Republic of Congo are sitting without field hospitals, adequate medical care, bathroom and toilet facilities, and refrigerated cargo containers — and with limited money to pay for food and other necessities in a largely cash-only economy, according to a recent report in City Press.

The reason this time? There’s no cargo plane to carry the equipment to the troops — and no money to charter a private aircraft for logistical support.

Mapisa-nqakula is, of course, entitled to her day in court.

But what’s got lost in the whole affair is the lives that are put on the line when procurement processes are subverted and accountability checks fail.