If any doubts remain about the inefficiencies in the routine of commissions of inquiry, imbizos and talk shops, the Sisi Khampepe commission of inquiry into the Usindiso fire settles the question.
Though restorative justice is a long-held respected system of reform in South Africa, it has proved to be nothing but a symbolic exercise of guesswork. Beyond providing a platform for an emotional atmosphere of engagement that gives us hope and comfort, it achieves little accountability and tangible change.
Khampepe, like many chairing commissions, did their utmost, but to what end?
This past weekend marked two years since 77 people were ravaged by fire in the building that became a site for illegal occupation, gunshots, prostitution, drug peddling and murder right under the nose of the City of Johannesburg authorities. What was revealed during the inquiry is the stuff of blockbusters.
Charles Dickens warned in Great Expectations that one should “take nothing on its looks; take everything on evidence. There’s no better rule”. This quote becomes relevant in my argument that talking through commissions, though a comforting and healing exercise, has achieved poor outcomes in this country because recommendations of most inquiries are treated by those who must undertake them as mere suggestions.
The dust never settled for the survivors, as some of them, mostly women and children, still have to live next to a dangerous hostel in Denver, where questionable shack structures were erected for them as temporary shelter. It’s a pity that it has been two years, and the words of President Cyril Ramaphosa during his visit remain just that, words. He termed the incident “a wake-up call to begin to address the situation of housing in the inner city. We need to find effective ways to deal with the issue of housing”, but as they say in Zulu, phephetha la, while gesturing at an empty eye, meaning nothing has ever come out of all those statements.
Already, we can see that there is a problem with this system. How can the president be the only person who decides whether the outcomes of a commission should be addressed legally or left to collect dust, as we have seen with many commissions?
The Madlanga commission, in its press briefing on September 8, made a very important revelation when asked whether the findings of the commission would be binding. The response was clear that the findings of a commission of inquiry are not binding in law. The commission can only make recommendations and submit the findings and recommendations to the president. It is the decision of the president to act on those recommendations. Already, we can see a problem with this system. How can the president be the only person who decides whether the outcomes of a commission should be addressed legally or left to collect dust, as we have seen with many commissions?
If Ramaphosa decides he does not want to act against his comrades because he is putting the party first, should the country suffer for that? What if we have a rogue president one day, who might decide to use commissions of inquiry as their own personal form of blackmail and leverage to control political foes and financial interest groups? If the execution of recommendations is the sole discretion of the president, we run a real risk of further entrenching corruption and enabling gross abuse of power. Of course, this is all according to the law, but even the law can be bent and manipulated to suit the nefarious ambitions and intentions of those in power.
As the public, we should challenge such laws. We must lobby parliamentarians we voted to represent us as custodians of our laws; they must amend this way of doing things. At this juncture in our journey as a country, those in power have proved to the public they cannot be trusted. Why should we still be naive and trust that politicians have our best interests at heart when they have clearly shown their only interest is themselves?
They squabble and hiss and claw and tear at each other, sometimes even killing each other, all for their own selfish need to enrich themselves and their family and connected networks. Simply because someone sits in a particular office that holds high regard does not necessarily mean the official is of high regard and fit for that office. If the very allegations that led to the Madlanga commission are anything to go by, it proves my point.
There have been at least seven commissions of inquiry since 2018, when Ramaphosa asked us to send him and promised us a new dawn. The most notable one being the Zondo commission of inquiry of course. Judge Raymond Zondo himself lamented that after all that work was done and all that time, effort and money spent on that commission, there has been meagre progress. Of the 218 criminal-related recommendations, there have only been four reported convictions. Actors, enablers and businesses that were implicated in state capture continue to serve in proximity to the president, whether in party political capacity or in government and business.
The reality is that commissions of inquiry do not deliver the sort of radical justice and restorative action that will renew public trust. Recommendations are not taken seriously and prioritised as though there is always a scramble to cover up and throw a few scapegoats under the bus for show while the real criminal circus continues unabated.
One thing that stands out since Gen Mkhwanazi’s press briefing is that the people are tired of controlled truths and half-truths. The outpouring of admiration for what Mkhwanazi did and how he did it was precisely because the public felt relief that, for once, someone was willing to get on the mic and tell us the cold truth as it is without trying to protect any politician’s ego.
Are we not tired of the lies and empty promises? Are we not commission-fatigued because nothing meaningful really ever materialises from these commissions?






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