A chill ran down my spine when colleague Amanda Khoza, aboard that ill-fated chartered SAA Airbus that got stranded in Warsaw for 26 hours, described how they were almost denied entry into Italian airspace en route to a stopover in Poland.
“I was dozing when we encountered our first problem. Monitoring the flight plan on my screen, I noticed the plane veering off course as we entered Italian airspace. It appeared we were flying back home, then in circles, several times, finally resuming course. SAA pilot Mpho Mamashela announced that our plane had been ‘flagged’ over the Mediterranean and had to obtain clearance to fly in Italian airspace,” she wrote in a first-hand account of the harrowing experience of being grounded at Warsaw’s Chopin airport for 26 hours because Polish authorities were suspicious of the cargo and personnel on board.

I get a mental block trying to process this insanity. It must take at least nine hours, if not more, for an airbus flying non-stop to reach Italian airspace from Johannesburg. By that time, it would have burned a significant amount of fuel. Also, it had to circle several times over the Mediterranean before being allowed to pass through, meaning more fuel burned. If the Italians had denied it permission to cross, the captain would have had to request emergency landing in a nearby country for refuelling. That would have taken considerable diplomatic efforts, especially with overwhelming evidence that it took off from South Africa without the requisite airspace clearance and landing permissions.
Why would you request airspace clearance mid-flight? That’s crazy.
From Amanda’s first-hand account, my subsequent conversation with her and reports from other media, you get a pretty disturbing picture of the level of ill-preparedness and disorganisation that went into this disastrous trip.
It all leads back to one man: Wally Rhoode, head of the presidential protection unit. One report said he dismissed South African Air Force personnel who are meticulous at planning trips for the president and deputy president when they told him the paperwork was not up to standard.
Rhoode seems to have arrogantly thought he could get away with packing the plane with more than 100 security personnel and an arms cache big enough to declare war on a small country.
The media team hitching a ride with his unit had no idea what was in store for them.

The plan was to stay overnight in Warsaw, then fly to the southern city of Rzeszow to drop off some of the security personnel accompanying Ramaphosa on a 15-hour train ride to the Ukrainian capital Kyiv. The rest of the contingent, including journalists, would then proceed to St Petersburg, where the African heads of state were set to conclude their mission by meeting Vladimir Putin.
All good, but there’s just one slight glitch. You don’t just decide to load personnel and ammo on a plane to a foreign country without filling in dozens of administrative forms. You have to dot all the Is and cross all the Ts.
First, prior permission has to be sought from all the airspaces you are crossing, otherwise your thoroughfare can be blocked.
Was there even a flight plan for this doomed mission? If so, who approved it and was it submitted on time to the civil aviation authorities of the countries concerned?
Rhoode seems to have arrogantly thought he could get away with packing the plane with over 100 security personnel and an arms cache big enough to declare war on a small country.
Second, no country will accept the arrival of, especially, security personnel and arms if there’s no proper paperwork accounting for each individual and the weapons/ammo aboard.
This plane’s final destination was Russia, a country at war with its neighbour. Plus, we’ve been accused by the US ambassador in Pretoria of arming the Russians. For crying in a beer, Poland was correct to detain this aircraft. As far as the authorities in Warsaw were concerned, Pretoria could have been smuggling mercenaries and undeclared arms to assist Putin, whose war of aggression, by all accounts, is not going very well. The West doesn’t trust us any more.
On the tarmac at Chopin airport, the shambolic planning finally caught up with Rhoode. He called an impromptu press conference on the doorway of the A340 as meticulous Polish authorities went through his schoolboy paperwork and lethal cargo. He cried racism without any hint of shame or embarrassment.
The Polish foreign ministry quickly hit back. “On board the plane there were dangerous materials, the import of which was not authorised by South African representatives.”
“In addition, there were people on board the plane who had not been previously notified to the Polish side,” it responded in a statement.
It’s difficult to argue racism here, even when dealing with Poland, a country not exactly revered for non-racism.
With their tail between their legs, Rhoode and his team were forced to abandon mission. At least our media colleagues who suffered on that tarmac were finally allowed into Warsaw for a well-deserved rest.
I’m also told that since returning, no-one in the presidency has reached out to apologise for the shambolic travelling arrangements and for putting the lives of passengers and crew in danger.
As for Rhoode, that he still remains head of the presidential protection service after such buffoonery can only come down to his central role in another mismanaged saga ... Phala Phala.
Any other president would have shown him the door.





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