The controversy over the now-celebrated musical, Sarafina II, can be seen at two levels. The first is the justification and circumstances of the expenditure of more than R14-million on the Aids-awareness production. The second relates to the handling of the row by our political masters, and what it says about the workings of our newly created political system. Both issues came to something of a head in the health portfolio committee of the National Assembly this week. “Something of a head”, because the proceedings were sadly inconclusive.
The expenditure itself was self-evidently and grossly excessive. The purchase of a R1-million bus, complete with toilet, to cart the cast about, represents extravagance even in the lavish realms of showbiz; in the context of a public works programme, it is little more than a grotesque distortion of spending priorities. Some of it is downright foolish: travelling theatre has, of necessity, to be small and simple, able to adapt to any venue; this should make it relatively cheap.
Such misappropriation of funds (and it is difficult to find a phrase which better fits, even if no criminal dimension has been established), raises questions about the circumstances in which the funding was allocated — including factors which lay behind early confusion surrounding the project.
What was the relationship between the minister of health and the highly paid producer, Mbongeni Ngema? Did Ngema believe that, in addition to his lavish director’s fee of R300 000, he would be entitled to half the box-office takings? What understanding was there between the Department of Health and Ngema, regarding the disposal of the vehicles purchased for the project? Did the belated discovery that the play had been funded by the European Union, rather than the South African taxpayer, have anything to do with a post-facto realisation that EU’s tendering requirements were less stringent than the state’s? If not, then why was the EU ambassador so surprised to learn that Brussels had funded the project?
Those with faith in our new political dispensation, might have anticipated speedy and satisfactory answers to these and other questions about the funding of the play. Such faith was dispelled. The ministry of health made a mockery of the principle of transparency by blocking early inquiries from the press. The presidency then moved to frustrate the proper exercise of the division of powers between the legislature and the executive.
Finally, and belatedly, the minister of health appeared before the portfolio committee for what should have been a public grilling, but which turned out to be little more than a platform for her to make that ringing declaration familiar to the theatrical world: “The show must go on!”
And so it does. Leaving the cynics reflecting that at least in one respect Sarafina II has succeeded in educating the public. It teaches us that we face problems in South Africa. And it’s not only with Aids.