PremiumPREMIUM

TOM EATON | Seriously, what was Tebogo Malaka thinking?

And the R60,000 bribe — why that specific amount?

Suspended IDT CEO Tebogo Malaka and her spokesperson Phasha Makgolane are alleged to have offered journalist Pieter-Louis Myburgh R60,000 to drop a story he was working on relating to Malaka's business affairs. File photo.
Suspended IDT CEO Tebogo Malaka and her spokesperson Phasha Makgolane are alleged to have offered journalist Pieter-Louis Myburgh R60,000 to drop a story he was working on relating to Malaka's business affairs. File photo. (IDT Facebook)

Neither Tebogo Malaka nor her Dior bagman Phasha Makgolane have been charged with a crime, so legally I can’t tell you that they were filmed trying to bribe Daily Maverick investigative journalist Pieter-Louis Myburgh: given that this happened at a restaurant in the Cape winelands, it’s possible that the R60k was a deposit for a plate of avos on toast.

If, however, you believe the evidence of your eyes as you watch Myburgh’s extraordinary video, or you read the headline of DM’s extraordinary exposé, claiming that “suspended IDT CEO, spokesperson offer Daily Maverick journalist R60k in cash to quash investigation”, or you saw public works minister Dean McPherson laying criminal charges against them on Thursday, and you decide that Malaka was, in fact, trying to bribe Myburgh, you might find yourself presented with a couple of interesting questions.

The first is whether Malaka is a moron or whether she simply has the mind of a spoiled three-year-old who’s never been told no.

To this point, I’ve read some people suggesting that Malaka must be very stupid indeed to have allowed a famous and respected investigative journalist to name the time and place of the meeting, and even more stupid to allow him to photograph an alleged bribe right in front of her.

Is that oddly specific amount the current going rate for a solid, mid-tier (alleged) bribe in corporate South Africa, or do respected but poorly-paid journalists get offered less?

I disagree. Two years ago DA MPs Samantha Graham-Maré and Sello Seitlholo wrote a press release titled ‘Revealing mounting evidence of maladministration in the Independent Development Trust’ in which they wrote that acting CEO Malaka’s hefty annual salary of R2.8m “appears to have been self-determined based on her predecessor’s salary, despite her apparent lack of experience in managing a complex organisation”.

I would argue that if this is true, it refutes any claims that Malaka is a bit thick. On the contrary, it suggests that she is very sharp indeed and has figured out exactly what public administration in Cyril Ramaphosa’s South Africa is all about.

No, all you need do is listen to her in the video, explaining politely to Myburgh that she wants him to stop investigating an allegedly dodgy property deal in Waterfall because it’s upsetting her parents and kids, and you’ll realise that this is someone who engages with the world like a toddler. She wants something, and you need to give it to her, because if she doesn’t get it, she will feel bad. End of story.

The second question is slightly more technical but no less interesting: why R60,000?

Is that oddly specific amount the current going rate for a solid, mid-tier (alleged) bribe in corporate South Africa, or do respected but poorly-paid journalists get offered less? And what about bad, unprincipled journalists? If someone like Myburgh only qualifies for R60,000 in a hand-me-down Dior bag, how small are the (alleged) bribes being offered to far less principled journalists? Do they get a stained Steers packet containing R500 and some leftover salt and pepper sachets?

Also, why not R50,000, or R70,000? Have South Africa’s officials discovered that R50,000 isn’t quite enough to seal the deal but R70,000 raises expectations too high? Is R60,000 the real sweet spot, arrived at through trial and error?

Well, mostly just error: we all know there are very few trials when it comes to corruption in this country, which is why I won’t be holding my breath about these two.

Still, I think we can all put cynicism and pessimism aside for long enough to offer three cheers to Pieter-Louis Myburgh and the noble art of investigative journalism. South Africa owes him and employers a debt of gratitude.


Would you like to comment on this article?
Sign up (it's quick and free) or sign in now.

Comment icon