Protect our whistleblowers — vulnerable heroes on the frontline against corruption

It may not seem like it sometimes, but South Africa is making progress in the fight against corruption. After years of frustration, at least two state capture cases are now being prosecuted in the courts. Prominent personalities in business and politics are in the dock. This has helped to send a clear message that impunity is now a thing of the past and that, even though state capture is yet to be vanquished, there are no longer any “untouchables”.

Of course much more needs to be done; many of the chief protagonists of state capture have yet to be arrested.

By their actions the Special Investigating Unit, the Investigative Directorate and the National Prosecuting Authority are helping to restore the public’s confidence in the judicial system. But if corruption is to be soundly defeated, the Hawks and the other state institutions set up to fight graft and organised crime need to pull up their socks.

Corruption would seldom be exposed were it not for the courage of insiders who speak out when they witness wrongdoing in their organisations. Without whistleblowers, the work of the law enforcement agencies would be near impossible.

Yet not enough is being done to protect those who put themselves at risk in this way. The murder in August 2021 of Gauteng health department official Babita Deokaran, who supplied information about a procurement scandal in the department, drew public attention to the seriousness of the problem.

The ensuing public outcry prompted President Cyril Ramaphosa and others in positions of power and authority to promise more protection for such people.

But, as we learnt in the case of former government spokesperson Themba Maseko, who earned the enmity of Jacob Zuma by resisting the then president’s attempt to help the Guptas line their pockets with government contracts, the price of such bravery is exacted not only through violence and physical intimidation.

The consequences also come in the form of rapidly evaporating job and business opportunities and of trumped-up charges and legal processes that drain the whistle-blower’s often-meagre resources.

This weekend we report on the heart-wrenching story of Mathapelo More, who has been without a salary for almost two years after she was fired from

Daybreak Farms, a poultry business owned by the

Public Investment Corp, for trying to stop the theft of about R200m.

An accountant with skills that are in demand, she is struggling to make ends meet no-one wants to employ her because her name is associated with controversy. Scores of others have gone through similar ordeals, as we heard in testimony at the Zondo commission.

Unless South Africa finds ways of properly shielding whistleblowers from the difficulties that invariably follow after they speak out, others will be reluctant to come forward when they see something going wrong.

Already in both the public and private sectors there is much anecdotal evidence of managers and bureaucrats choosing to look the other way rather than expose a crime, having decided that their livelihoods indeed, their lives are more important.

As one whistleblower points out elsewhere on these pages, continued intimidation and victimisation of such informants may, in the long run, jeopardise many of the corruption cases that the state has started bringing to court.

Most of them rely on the evidence of whistleblowers. But if the country continues to neglect these informants, letting them endure untold suffering without any form of support, we run the risk that some might withhold their co-operation, believing it not to be worth the sacrifices they have to make.

If that happens, the thieves win.

If the country continues to neglect these informants, we run the risk that some might withhold their co-operation