By Marianne Thamm  - Investigative Journalist

On Friday, 3 July the Madlanga Commission was primed to hear continued evidence linking Crime Intelligence deputy head, Major-General Feroz Khan, to a network of alleged tobacco smugglers, tax evaders, politicians and businessmen, all seeking to leverage his authority in the SAPS.

This commission might just be the biggest takedown of a Mexican-style cartel that has captured and established itself in law enforcement in South Africa, and the circle ripples outwards into very high places.

If there is to be a showdown at the O.K. Corral, then this is it.

Then, mid-afternoon I found myself in the news while writing about it, a situation every journalist dreads.

In this instance the commission had found evidence that Khan had allegedly abused his position to spy on and track journalists, specifically those working on SAPS corruption.

The Madlanga investigative team had found communications between an unknown SAPS official and Khan, suggesting that I be “counter-surveilled” as a result of my coverage of Khan’s woes.

Soon afterwards, my home was broken into and my work laptops stolen.

 
 
 
 
Alt text
 

Journalist Marianne Thamm’s home office was ransacked in March 2021. Two months earlier, Crime Intelligence officers allegedly exchanged messages about her, one saying action needed to be taken against her. (Photo: Supplied)

But that was FIVE years ago, people.

At the time I knew exactly what had happened and had all the receipts… But there is a time and a place for everything. The revelation of the order for “counter-surveillance” at the Madlanaga Commission confirmed this.

Many concerned individuals have since reached out, believing the break-in had occurred this very week, that my life was in danger and that I must be traumatised.

The truth of it is I have moved on.

That is life. That is what you learn as a journalist. It is what we sign up for. Not the clicks, not the awards, not the praise from the sidelines. That is all just noise. The reality of it happens far from public view. And the risks we keep to ourselves. It is often very lonely as well.

The only benefit of the public exposure of the break-in at my home is that it reveals that journalism is a scarce skill that is practised in a dangerous real-life world.

Journalists are not like accountants or stock brokers or clerks who might thrive in a corporate environment.

Journalism needs specific conditions in which it can be done properly, with depth, authenticity and bravery.

How do you measure a break-in or an arrest or a threat on your life in a key performance indicator evaluation? This is the struggle we face. We are expected to do more with less. We have to outwit, outsmart and outplay not only fake news, but individual podcasters (who often use our research) and algorithms which make us slaves to the clicks.

I have lived through three major technological revolutions in media, two arrests, a brief imprisonment, being tear-gassed and now a break-in. From typewriter to Atex, from Atex to the internet, each one of these technologies disrupted publishing patterns, but in the end the human skills journalists acquire over years, their real-life sources and the courage and tenacity that build are what keep us alive.

Thank you sincerely for your continued support.