It is an outrage and an indignation that corruption has become a societal ill so prevalent that even a school principal in the Eastern Cape carried out a bizarre siphoning of the coffers of Ulwazi High School, Mdantsane, with no shame.
The Sunday Times reported this week that school principal Mihlali Makhalima splurged on alcohol, fancy eateries, fast food and groceries stores and what seems to be personal withdrawals without justification.
Following an investigation, the provincial department has revealed that he spent hundreds of thousands of rand from the school purse irresponsibly while pupils are provided two sub-standard meals of flavoured maize meal or porridge for breakfast and a cooked lunch, plus fruit.
The article quoted a man by the name of Stompi, a chair of the school governing body, who said they would regularly get meals from fast food chains from the principal during meetings at the school. This is despite the law clearly stipulating that “no member of a governing body may be remunerated in any way for the performance of his or her duties or for the attendance of meetings and school activities”.
This scenario brings into context the need to look into the role of beneficiaries in corruption. Though by his own admission, Stompi knew nothing about the fraud investigation into the principal, there is something to be said about how corruption is enabled and sustained by those in the social network of the perpetrator.
Though not their fault that there is rot festering, these are the people who help bring the thrill and sustainability of criminal activity because even when they suspect foul play, they keep silent because their pockets are either lined or their stomachs fed.
They are not necessarily to be scapegoated, but are not people to be taken lightly and let off the hook in investigations and for consequence management.
In defence of the principal, Stompi was quoted as saying, “The principal is the one who is monitoring the camp and the studies. He is the one who makes sure that they are ready for the exams. If you suspend him now, what is your interest as a department?
“That means it’s a witch hunt. There’s a witch hunt, and it’s not going to succeed because we are a praying nation,” Stompi said. “Our prayers will be against anyone who is against the prosperity of our children.”
Like many who play a role, no matter how big or small in crime, he undermines the veracity of the situation.
The symbiotic relationship that exists between perpetrators and beneficiaries needs a serious follow-up, as it helps sustain crimes.
If there is anything the commissions of inquiry in this country have taught us is that behind the big thief are small players to make the ecosystem stable and enjoyable.
Corruption does not thrive in isolation; it survives because too many people benefit from its decay. The Ulwazi High School case is not just about a principal who looted public funds; it’s about a system of complacency and silent beneficiaries that make such looting possible. Where oversight is weak, accountability becomes negotiable, and morality is traded for convenience.
The department of education’s investigation is a start, but oversight cannot end with identifying one culprit. The rot spreads through those who look away, rationalise wrongdoing, or profit quietly under the table, from school governing bodies to community figures who exchange vigilance for favours.
When the very people meant to safeguard integrity become desensitised to misconduct, corruption ceases to be an anomaly; it becomes culture.
The state must not only discipline offenders but also dismantle the networks that sustain them. Oversight must evolve beyond paper compliance; it must continue to interrogate relationships, incentives and the social complicity that gives corruption oxygen.
Until beneficiaries, enablers and bystanders face the same moral scrutiny as perpetrators, South Africa will keep recycling the same scandals in new forms.
Real accountability begins where silence ends.
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