EXTRACT Nene, to the utter astonishment of every South African, resigned. In so doing, he has become the first person in in the history of our new democracy to do so. It’s not something our chaps in government have absorbed into their consciousness: If you lie (or behave in an unseemly fashion) then you have a moral obligation to resign. Tell that to the morally reprehensible former Social Development Minister Bathabile Dlamini, who failed the old, frail and needy by botching the disbursement of social grants. Or Malusi Gigaba who kept his job (and then put in charge of this country’s finances) despite evidence that Home Affairs was selling citizenship to illegal immigrants – and the likes of state capturers like the Guptas too.
I’ve just come off the Whale Trail, a 50-something-km walk through the pristine De Hoop Nature Reserve in the Western Cape.
It was my first ever hike in the wilderness, or anywhere for that matter. My mantra for the last 59 years has been: exercise means walking to the lift.
I triumphantly announced: “I did it!” on my FaceBook page to which one of my friends replied: "LOVE that hike. It’s one long meditation."
Erm… not for me. My victory posting was less cock-a-hoop and more relief; like Hallelujah, I got out alive.
Of course it’s beautiful. Not for nothing is the De Hoop Nature Reserve and Marine Protected Area called the Jewel of the Fynbos.
The natural shrubland is a symphony of colour; proteas and ericas dot the mountain side, cascading with grasses and restios and vytjies.
Overhead, the endangered Cape Vulture soars, its glorious wingspan revealing a white undercarriage with black tipped wings.
The magnificence of an unspoilt natural sanctuary where there is limited human passage is breath taking and though there was heavy breathing involved in the strenuous climb, every living thing in sight conspired to enthral. It was magical being in this enchanted place. Until day three.
It started off fearfully and got worse. In front of me, coming off Noetsie beach was a sheer climb that would require having to clamber up a rock as tall as me.
That done, painfully, clumsily, it was time to meander along the cliffs – a pathway that overlooked the sea and bays in which more than 700 Southern Right whales frolicked.
(We saw the low flying aircraft doing the whale number count, ably helped by a drone.)
Great spurts of water spraying from blowholes are cause for delight, as are the tails that mysteriously appear out of the deep. Since this is the nursery, baby tails and baby spouts provide Awwww moments.
With this in mind, the terror of a Cliffside walk seemed worth it.
Only on this day, rain was forecast, and I’d not factored in the long(ish) stretches along that perilous cliff walk where the narrow path falls away hundreds of metres to the sea and rocks below. The stuff of future nightmares.
Driving rain bucketed down as a gale force wind whipped everything in sight. I stood frozen on the pathway, leaning to the right with certain death at the bottom of an angry sea millimetres away, screaming to the sky: How did I get here? What the F am I doing here? Aaaagh!
The wind swept my despairing cry out to a sea that crashed and roiled and laughed in the face of my misery.
And then I came home to Johannesburg and found myself still hanging on by my fingernails, asking myself this very same question again? How did we get here? How did we end up on this cliff edge?
We’re watching as disaster unfolds in our country – the petrol price has broken through the R17/litre barrier.
When I last visited America in 2012, I paid R8 for a dollar. Today, it’s close to R15.
The cost of electricity is up 7%, water and sanitation services are up 14%. Rates are up and the 1% VAT increase has just made everything more expensive – and uncomfortable.
As we teeter precariously on our cliff edge, hanging onto shreds of hope in the midst of our desperation, a man we once held in high regard for his ethical behaviour, the now former finance minister Nhlanhla Nene, is outed as a liar.
A quick deviation….
Out with the old, in with the older is the new slogan being chanted on our streets as 59-year-old Tito Mboweni is brought back – after a hiatus from government of 8 years – to replace Nene as Finance Minister. Aged 40 in 1999 he became our first black Reserve Bank Governor, a post he held for 10 years. He then joined – amid a sea of critical voices – Goldman Sachs, the US investment bank and financial services company, as an adviser on business development opportunities in southern Africa. But that’s another column. Let’s wait and see how Tito goes.
Back to Nhlanhla Nene…
He was outed for lying to us by telling a news reporter (two years ago) he’d only met the toxic state capturing Gupta brothers at public gatherings; that he’d had no other dealings with them…
But he told the Zondo State Capture Inquiry he’d visited them at least four times – four lies therefore – between 2010 and 2013, when he was deputy finance minister.
When you’re the man in charge of the state coffers, you need to have an unblemished reputation of honesty and integrity and transparency.
Nene, to the utter astonishment of every South African, resigned. In so doing, he has become the first person in in the history of our new democracy to do so.
It’s not something our chaps in government have absorbed into their consciousness: If you lie (or behave in an unseemly fashion) then you have a moral obligation to resign.
Tell that to the morally reprehensible former Social Development Minister Bathabile Dlamini, who failed the old, frail and needy by botching the disbursement of social grants.
Or Malusi Gigaba who kept his job (and then put in charge of this country’s finances) despite evidence that Home Affairs was selling citizenship to illegal immigrants – and the likes of state capturers like the Guptas too.
South African politicians usually point fingers when they are found wanting… It wasn’t me; it was not my responsibility; these are some old favourite excuses.
In 1992, as the Sunday Times’ London Correspondent, I covered my first British political resignation. It was a salacious story, one that made Page 3!
The ambitious Tory high-flying cabinet minister David Mellor had been caught in a wild affair with tall, beautiful bit-part actress Antonia de Sancha.
The tabloids told how he liked to make love to her dressed (barring his shorts) in his Chelsea blue football strip. There was toe-sucking and spanking.
David Mellor resigned.
Of course this sort of thing in the British Houses of Parliament was not new.
There was that scandal of scandals; the 1963 Profumo Affair, where Tory minister John Profumo resigned after lying to the House about his affair with Christine Keeler, who was having an affair at the same time with a Russian spy. You can’t make that stuff up.
In May 2015, Liberal Democrat Sir Malcolm Bruce – trying to defend a colleague accused of lying – told BBC Radio 4 that politicians lie so regularly “Parliament would empty if they were punished for it”.
So: Nhlanhla Nene has made local history by resigning for telling fibs. We are all aghast, and overly impressed by this “ethical display of courage” (I heard someone say!)
I’m not sure if you can put Yes I Lied and Ethical Courage in the same sentence. (Well, you can if you’re Donald Trump, but I hope we’re better than that.)
While I think what Nene did is a step in the right direction – I mean both his resignation and the fact that President Cyril Ramaphosa accepted it – I’m not certain that it will usher in an era of accountability.
I’m afraid I’m still teetering on the edge of that cliff, hoping that the rain will stop, that the wind will die down. Alternatively, if the stormy weather continues, I hope that the fatal fall to the rocks and sea below is quick and painless.
For that scenario to not happen, our politicians will need to grow an understanding of the need for answerability and scrupulous honesty. It’s a big ask.
Would you like to comment on this article?
Sign up (it's quick and free) or sign in now.
Please read our Comment Policy before commenting.