Revealed: those who expose pay a very high price
The Whistleblowers shows that even the most unlikely people can do the right things when it matters most
To be able to look the other way through the looking glass, to borrow a Lewis Carrollism, is a gift not everyone possesses.
Seeing something horrifying or galling and still trying to understand the person or people responsible goes against the natural order of things.
But SA journalist and author Mandy Wiener, who spends a large part of her life chasing down some of the country s most unsavory ’ characters, is really good at this. Really good.
From dangerous criminals to rogue politicians, she knows them all. And if you are familiar with books like Killing Kebble and Ministry of Crime, you ll also know that when ’ these people have something to say, it s ’ Wiener they turn to.
That is not to say she paints them in a positive light. Far from it.
But they trust her, which is no small feat considering they literally are in the business of hoodwinking and double-crossing others.
To have contacts is one thing; to be able to draw out information they would not even tell their own lawyers is quite another.
The Whistleblowers, Wiener s latest offering, ’ differs from her previous books in that the focus changes to those who might be considered more on the side of the angels, though by no means is everyone a saint.
In a sense, the South Africans who have risked and very often lost all by lifting the lid on the rot, be it political or corporate, are underworld figures themselves.
They, too, lurk in the shadows because not doing so would put them in the crosshairs of those they are about to expose.
In a country where festering patronage networks are seen as the only way of getting ahead, the whistle-blower is pariah-in-chief. And, as Wiener points out, he or she is hardly likely to receive protection from the state.
Compared to the US, for example, SA s legislative ’ “framework is complicated and, for the layperson, difficult to comprehend ”.
“There are gaps in the law that limit the accountability of companies and the government and do little to encourage potential whistleblowers to come forward.
“Instead, many are expected to martyr themselves in the alter of doing the right ‘ thing ’. There is no incentive to motivate them other than their own moral courage. The risk is often not worth the reward, and few cases result in vindication and justice.”
Impressively — and again this speaks to Wiener as a journalist who sees the value of not always pursuing the obvious — lesserknown whistleblowers are included in the book.
Bosasa-compromised Angelo Agrizzi and Patricia de Lille are there, but so too are a host of others who might not be household names.
The David v Goliath account of Cape Town small businessman Imraahn Ismail-Mukkaddam is proof that not all heroes wear Capes.
Ismail-Mukkaddam exposed how big bread producers, including Sasko, Blue Ribbon, Premier Foods and Albany, were violating the Competition Act.
He and other bread distributors, after initial success, suddenly found themselves getting a raw deal from the producers.
While some distributors simply passed on the higher prices to their customers, IsmailMukkaddam dug in.
Eventually, Premier Foods buckled and tatted on other members of the corporate bread cartel.
Premier Foods admitted they had been fixing selling prices and other trade conditions. Hundreds of millions of rand in fines were paid by the companies.
However, in SA, whistle-blowing comes at tremendous personal cost.
The end of the story was basically that I “sank,” Ismail-Mukkaddam told Wiener.
I had to then depend on the bread that I m “’ baking myself.
I couldn t depend on the top end of the “’ market so it became really difficult.
My income shrank by about 60%. By 2009, “it had gotten so bad that I basically stopped baking.”
The Agrizzi saga, thanks to the Zondo Commission of Inquiry, is now fairly well known, but again Wiener has found a way to define a personality beyond the probing eye of television.
It took her a year to convince the former Bosasa man to speak to her, and what comes out in the wash is a person broken by their role in one of SA s biggest white-collar corruption ’ cases.
All he had ever wanted to be in life was a great chef, but fate had other ideas.
Agrizzi met the late Gavin Watson for the first time at the Port Elizabeth Airport.
At the time, he was working for the Molope Group, but an empowerment company called Dyambu was beginning to challenge Malope in the catering game, vying for contracts at mining hostels.
When he overheard Watson at the airport, he realised this was the person who was hitting “on all our contracts ”. Agrizzi was looking for something new, and called Dyambu to arrange a meeting.
Watson hired Agrizzi soon afterwards.
The rest, as they say, is history, but what led to his decision to come clean is a story that is equally important within the context of whistle-blowing.
“The big moment was when my daughter came to speak to me.
Natasha is not a stupid girl. She s very “’ wise. Out of everybody in the family, if there s ’ somebody to listen to, it s her.”’
At that stage, Agrizzi was critically ill in hospital but she barged through and she “ended up on my hospital bed and said: Dad, I ‘ want to talk to you ’”.
Natasha told him the family did not care about nice things ”, only him.
“It clicked in my mind why am I doing “— this? Why am I beholden to Gavin?”
That was when Agrizzi told his daughter: “Dad s going to fix up, I m going to make ’ ’ right.”
Wiener once again has shown her prowess as a journalist who is able to cut to the core of her subjects.
In a world of social media outrage and digital lynch mobs, she shows humanity, for all its fallibility, still exists and that even the most unlikely people can do the right thing when it matters most.
The end of the story was basically that I sank ... My income shrank by about 60%. By 2009, it had gotten so bad that I basically stopped baking