Barney Mthombothi

Let Senzo speak for us all

Senzo Meyiwa’s life may have been snuffed out by a bullet five long years ago but his voice will continue — as long as his murder remains unsolved — to cry out loudly from the grave, drawing attention to the government’s sheer incompetence and utter disdain in its handling of the safety and security of its citizens. His name has become a byword for what almost amounts to deliberate mismanagement of rampant crime in this country.

Let Meyiwa’s spectre haunt the conscience of those harbouring information about his killing and the government that has abjectly failed him and his family — until his alleged murderer is found and prosecuted. This high-profile murder helps to highlight the plethora of cases which remain unresolved due to official ineptitude.

Meyiwa was shot dead at his girlfriend Kelly Khumalo’s home in Spruitview in October 2014. Five other people were present in the house when he was killed. Initial reports said two or perhaps three armed robbers surprised the party and Meyiwa was shot during a scuffle. But some reports are now suggesting he may have been shot by one of the people in the house. Five years of police investigation have thus far drawn a blank. The government is upset because the Meyiwa family has had the temerity to turn to AfriForum for help, and Gerrie Nel is sniffing around.

Meyiwa was a goalkeeper and captain of Orlando Pirates, one of the most iconic teams in the country. He was also the talismanic captain of Bafana Bafana, the national football team, and had inspired the notorious stragglers to a few victories.

Why should we care about Meyiwa’s death? Doesn’t that give credence to the criticism that one has to be famous for one’s case to receive the necessary attention? But that’s the point. The argument can be turned on its head. If the brutal slaying of such a popular sportsman can be treated so cavalierly by the government, what chance then do ordinary people out in the sticks have? The answer is obvious: zilch. Senzo’s case should help throw some light into those dark corners. It should compel us to demand serious answers from this utterly incompetent government. The country needs a more thoroughgoing engagement on crime, its causes and possible solutions in a manner and on a scale it’s never done before. Crime is our Achilles heel and yet we’ve somehow succeeded in pushing it into the background. We’ve factored it into our lives. We’ve decided we can live with it.

The ANC, when it came to power, intimidated everybody into believing that it was uncool to talk about crime, let alone to complain about it; that crime was the preoccupation of the white suburbs which had enjoyed special protection under apartheid and who were now complaining because those privileges were gone.

Black people, by contrast, had lived with crime for years without complaining. It was as if the ANC were saying “it’s your turn now to get it in the neck”. Even if such a characterisation were true, it was the ANC’s responsibility as the new government to deal with the problem, instead of pointing fingers or settling old scores.

The new government had another problem: it was suspicious of the police, which had been used by the apartheid regime as a political tool to harass and oppress its foes. Many of those now in government had been at the receiving end of malpractices such as torture and detention without trial. The government’s first priority therefore was to tame the beast; to make sure the police were onside. This they did by eschewing the age-old tradition of promoting line-function police officers to senior positions. Instead they deployed trusted comrades with no policing experience as police commissioners. Such a practice has been a spectacular failure. And the reasons are quite obvious: the new appointees have been all at sea. They didn’t know what they were doing. Many didn’t even have executive experience of any kind before being given the responsibility of running a behemoth such as the police force. Also, seeing complete strangers with hardly any experience being promoted over their heads had the effect of depressing the policemen on the ground.

It didn’t go well for comrade commissioners. They fell like dominoes. Jackie

Selebi was found guilty of corruption and died a broken man. Bheki Cele, another unremarkable politician, was sacked for corruption by Jacob Zuma, of all people. When Zuma mentioned Riah Phiyega, we checked the calendar and chuckled. But it was no joke. Phiyega had nothing to commend her to the job of police commissioner. That appointment, even by ANC standards, boggled the mind. The desecration of the institution was complete. They had decided to play fast and loose with the only instrument with a mandate to combat probably the biggest threat facing the country.

It was on Phiyega’s watch that Meyiwa was murdered. She appointed what she called a high-level team to investigate. It looked an open-and-shut case — there are witnesses. Senzo was killed, not in some dark corner, but in a house among friends who would presumably want to see whoever was responsible for this heinous crime nailed — at least some of them. Phiyega’s team, after five years on the case, has nothing to show for it. Of all the blunders by this government — and there are many — this must probably rank as one of the biggest cock-ups it’s ever committed.

Now the government has got its knickers in a knot because AfriForum wants to show it up for its stupidity. Cele, promoted to minister despite his shady past, says he’s satisfied with the police investigation and there’s no need for AfriForum’s involvement. You could have knocked me over with a feather. I carry no water for AfriForum, but more strength to its elbow. Frankly, as things stand, one would welcome help even from the devil himself.