This weekend, as the glitz and glamour of the Durban July unfolded, something far more sobering captured the attention of South Africans—a powerful press briefing by KwaZulu-Natal’s Police Commissioner, Lieutenant-General Nhlanhla Mkhwanazi.
In a country where corruption is often swept under the rug and whistleblowers are met with silence or sabotage, Mkhwanazi did the unthinkable: he named names. He spoke truth to power.
With calm authority and a fearless spirit, he stood before the media and unveiled what many have only whispered in backrooms. Allegations of collusion between senior law enforcement officers and criminal syndicates. Phone calls linking key suspects to individuals within the Minister of Police’s inner circle. The rot, he warned, is not just at the door—it is in the room.
Lieutenant-General Mkhwanazi’s courage is not just admirable—it is historic. This is a man who, despite the political pressure and personal risk, continues to rise. His leadership is not performative; it is purposeful. He leads from the front, deploys resources where they are most needed, and lends support to provinces like Gauteng, who have turned to him for help. His focus remains clear: dismantle crime. Protect citizens. Expose betrayal.
And yet, even as he does this important work, there is an alleged plot to remove him. A scheme to silence the very voice that is bringing justice to light. We cannot allow that to happen. The people of KwaZulu-Natal cannot afford to lose a Commissioner like Mkhwanazi. South Africa cannot afford to lose one of the few men in uniform who has chosen integrity over influence.
Just this week, I was in conversation with people in Durban who, in the midst of the Durban July festivities, were singing Mkhwanazi’s praises. They spoke of recent arrests, crackdowns on gangsterism, and the return of faith in policing. That faith is not just based on performance stats—it is based on presence. Mkhwanazi is present. In the streets, in the townships, in the media, and in the hearts of people desperate for justice.
What he said at the briefing today was not just damning—it was empowering. He gave South Africans permission to believe again. To believe that someone in uniform is still on our side. That justice can still prevail. That criminals, no matter how connected, can still be brought to book.
But the backlash was swift and personal. Lieutenant-General Shadrack Sibiya, one of those fingered in Mkhwanazi’s revelations, has come out guns blazing—not with answers, but with insults. In a reckless attempt to deflect, Sibiya told Mkhwanazi to “sit in his little corner” and do what other provincial commissioners do. He accused Mkhwanazi of overreaching, suggesting that the Commissioner “wants to be a Police Minister” and should stop “speaking badly about Minister Senzo Mchunu in public.”
These are not just political jabs—they are smokescreens designed to distract us from the truth. Instead of addressing the serious claims, Sibiya has chosen character assassination. But South Africans are watching, and we know deflection when we see it.
We must not let this moment pass quietly. We must not let the flames of truth be extinguished by bureaucracy or fear. We, the people, must rally behind Lieutenant-General Mkhwanazi. We must be loud. We must be unshakable. And we must be united.
Because if we don’t protect the protectors, who will protect us?
To Lieutenant-General Mkhwanazi — thank you. Thank you for your courage. Thank you for your clarity. Thank you for reminding us that this country still has heroes in uniform. South Africa sees you. We support you. And we will not let them silence you.
Let the call echo in every township, city, and corridor of power: Leave Mkhwanazi alone. Let him and his super dedicated team finish what they started.
Justice is calling, and Mkhwanazi is answering. Let us all stand with him.
Camagu, S'pheshu, Madubandlela, Somlomoti, Sodilakazi, Nkwaliyenkosi, Ndonga, Shamase, Mwelase, Sontuli, Somkhele........
Camagu.
