Letter to Mahlamba Ndlopfu: My jacaranda tree is a living metaphor for a country in flux

Daily Maverick

17-07-2025

Ah, Chief Dwasaho! A giant jacaranda tree stands forlornly outside my window, stripped bare of the riotous purple blossoms that once danced like confetti across Pretoria's avenues in summer. It looks lonely and confused, as though it no longer understands its place in the world or the delicate art of statecraft.
You might recall, my leader, how the erstwhile Chief Tenant of Mahlamba Ndlopfu, Thabo Mbeki, once waxed lyrical about the jacaranda trees to illustrate the splendour of our land. In a flourish typical of his philosophical bent, he ventured into uncharted territory, posing the rhetorical question: 'At times, and in fear, I have wondered whether I should concede equal citizenship of our country to the leopard and the lion, the elephant and the springbok, the hyena, the black mamba and the pestilential mosquito.'
As I ponder the future of my homeland, my jacaranda tree stands as a living metaphor for a country in flux — confused, stripped of its splendour, yet stubbornly rooted in the hope that spring might one day return.
Comrade Leadership, I'm going all philosophical on you because simple language and polite presuppositions can no longer suffice to explain the goings-on in the Republic of the Guptas — a land seemingly complete with its own Ministry of Crime tucked inside the Justice, Crime Prevention and Security (JCPS) Cluster.
Now, to keep things precise, the word 'cluster,' according to the Oxford English Dictionary, means: Cluster (noun): A group of similar things growing or held together; a bunch.
A bunch of ministers, a cluster of chaos
Comrade Leadership, I'm rather fond of that last bit — a bunch. Stay with me for a second. Today, the Ministry of Police boasts a proper bunch of FIVE warm bodies. Yes, you read that right. It's a bona fide bunch of a ministry, the only one globally.
First, you instructed our alleged underworld figure, Senzo Mchunu, to retreat to Zululand and tend to his chickens — on full pay — with the Blue Light Bullies (VIP police) trailing behind him.
Then, in a plot twist worthy of a daytime soapie, you appointed Gwede Mantashe, Minister of Mineral and Petroleum Resources, as Acting Minister of Police, effective immediately. He's merely holding the fort until Professor Firoz Cachalia assumes office in early August 2025, again in an acting capacity.
Meanwhile, Mchunu will continue to shuffle between the Police Commission of Inquiry, chaired by Acting Deputy Chief Justice Mbuyiseli Madlanga, and his taxpayer-funded hotel suite or state house, as he fancies.
So here we stand, with a ministry housing three ministers — real, acting, and acting-in-waiting — plus two deputy ministers, namely Shela Boshielo and Cassel Mathale, both ANC acolytes.
The latter serve diligently, albeit in near-total silence, thus redefining the very concept of a bunch within a cluster. If we add their bag carriers, security detail, administrators, speechwriters, spokespersons, heads of office or chiefs of staff, we've graduated from a 'bunch' to a fully fledged ANC branch.
It comes complete with the quorum for singing 'My President, My President' at a regional conference at the Birchwood Hotel & Conference Centre in Ekurhuleni, Benoni. I digress.
Coup plots and the people's bae
My leader, within this convoluted environment, Minister in the Presidency Khumbudzo Ntshavheni, caretaker of state security, enters, wide-eyed but speaking in hushed tones. Ntshavheni — the people's bae, renowned for her fiery promise to 'smoke them out' when it comes to illegal miners and private sector players allegedly plotting to collapse the ANC-led government, is suddenly muted.
This week, she dropped the political equivalent of a thunderclap, revealing 'plots of a coup d'état, or unconstitutional changes of government, orchestrated or encouraged by elements both domestic and external'.
Yet, tragically, she followed this bombshell with a curious disclaimer: 'We are not alarmist, but vigilant. It is our duty to detect and neutralise threats before they destabilise the Republic. South Africa is not immune to the global trend of hybrid threats, where disinformation, cyberattacks and foreign interests combine with local actors to try to delegitimise the state or effect regime change.'
My leader, I am utterly devastated by the minister's newfound reluctance to lead from the front and 'identify coup d'état plotters and smoke them out'. Why this sudden bout of shyness? Why are we, of all nations battered by history, suddenly so timid, so determined not to be alarmist, especially when the very foundations of the Republic might be under siege from forces skulking both inside and outside our borders?
Where, I ask you, is this much-vaunted bunch of a Ministry of Police when we need them the most? In truth, the entire Justice, Crime Prevention and Security Cluster should be on high alert, lest we witness a repeat of the proverbial July 2021 civil unrest. Those 12 so-called instigators, if you remember, were apparently identified by former police minister Bheki Cele in his sleep. Yet they somehow managed to outsmart, outfox, outwit and downright embarrass the entire security apparatus of the Republic.
Barbarians at the gate
And I'm left wondering, my leader: If the people's bae herself is now whispering instead of roaring, who exactly will stand guard when the jackals — or shall we call them the Barbarians — come sniffing at the gates of our democracy, specifically at Mahlamba Ndlopfu?
In times like these, we, as a nation (Lieutenant-General Nhlanhla Mkhwanazi included) must be vigilant, aware and ready to take action to protect our homeland from imigodoyi and underworld figures.
I say so, my leader, because our Special Forces, police and army appear distracted these days. A whole 'bunch' of them are now deployed to protect our freshly minted National Key Point, none other than Lieutenant-General Nhlanhla Mkhwanazi, who, as you know, has been dropping political bombs — or was it missiles — that could blow the roof off the entire Justice, Crime Prevention and Security Cluster.
Meanwhile, the army types are playing a very different kind of war game, marching in and out of courtrooms, their boots squeaking on polished tiles instead of battlefield dust.
On 11 July 2025, 12 SANDF Special Forces operators appeared in the Randburg Magistrate's Court facing a cocktail of charges including murder, kidnapping, fraud, obstruction of justice, perjury and vehicle theft.
Their alleged involvement in the murder of Hawks investigator Frans Mathipa, tied to a kidnapping case involving a suspected Isis associate, reads like a Hollywood script. Except this is no blockbuster film. It's real life, with consequences for the integrity of our security cluster and the safety of 'our people'.
Mafia state?
My leader, all of this leaves me grappling with a chilling question: are we teetering on the brink of a failed state, or have we become a fully fledged mafia state? Because it's becoming increasingly complex to tell the difference.
One minute, we're standing tall, singing Nkosi Sikelel' iAfrika, our fists raised high, eyes glistening with patriotic fervour, tears rolling down our cheeks as we swear that ours is a land of peace, justice and freedom.
The next minute, we're hunched over our smartphones, squinting through bloodshot eyes at news alerts that speak of ministers under investigation, Special Forces members frog-marched into courtrooms, and whispers of coups slithering like vipers through the corridors of power.
New citizens
Perhaps, like the philosopher king Mbeki, we should indeed consider extending citizenship not to humans, who seem so hellbent on betrayal and plunder, but rather to the lions, leopards and elephants — creatures that, at the very least, understand the sacredness of territorial integrity and the solemn duty of sovereignty.
At least the lion, when he roars, roars for real, and not in carefully worded press statements drafted by spin doctors who've mastered the art of saying absolutely nothing in a thousand words. With lions, there would be no cosy clandestine meetings in smoke-filled rooms to plot tenders and sell out national secrets.
At least the leopard, when he stalks his prey, does so with lethal purpose, not dithering behind endless commissions of inquiry or ducking questions from parliamentary committees.
At least the elephant, in its grandeur, never forgets, a quality that would serve this Republic well, given how conveniently our leaders' memories seem to fail them whenever brown envelopes start changing hands. Brown Mogotsi, anyone?
My leader, sometimes I wonder if the wild animals would better guard the gates of Mahlamba Ndlopfu than some of those currently holding high office.