R28 Million on Pothole Machines That Fixed Zero Potholes
The Department of Defence spent R27.79 million on 90 pothole repair machines in 2021. Defence Minister Angie Motshekga admitted in Parliament that the machines have never been used because there was no implementation plan. The matter has been referred to the Special Investigating Unit, but accountability remains uncertain.
The Admission
Defence Minister Angie Motshekga confirmed in Parliament this week that the Department of Defence spent R27.79 million on 90 roller compactors in 2021 with no plan to use them. The machines were intended as part of a pothole repair project to benefit army veterans and the community. Five years later, not a single pothole has been repaired by these machines.
When asked to explain the failure, Motshekga gave a response that laid bare the dysfunction. “There has been no implementation of the pothole repair project ever since the 90 roller machines were procured. This is because there is no visible project implementation plan that would have informed the procurement process,” she told Parliament.
The sequence of events reveals a procurement process with no foundation. The machines were purchased first. Someone was supposed to figure out what to do with them afterwards. That figure-it-out part never happened.
What Happened to the Machines
The Department is unaware of the machines ever being used in any capacity, according to Motshekga. There is no evidence of training. There are no records of deployment. The machines remain in storage, intact and serviceable according to the department’s asset register.
There have been claims that defence officials rented the machines out privately for personal profit. Motshekga denied these allegations, saying the department is unaware of any such use and will investigate if allegations are received. Whether those claims are true or not, the core fact is unchanged: R28 million was spent and no pothole repair project was ever implemented.
The Larger Pattern
The pothole machines are not an isolated failure. The Auditor-General identified a R3.98 billion discrepancy between what the Department of Defence claims it owns and what appears on its balance sheet. The department cannot account for billions in assets.
Over the past eight years, the Defence Department has accumulated R22 billion in irregular expenditure, according to figures presented to Parliament. This is spending that falls outside normal procurement processes. The department attributes this to underfunding, but the numbers tell a different story. In a single financial year, the department exceeded its budget by R12 billion. The largest driver of this overspend was employee compensation, where the department exceeded its budget by R3.7 billion in salaries and wages alone.
Motshekga has requested R9 billion more from the treasury to meet the Defence Force’s current obligations and service its vehicles. Meanwhile, the same department found R28 million to spend on pothole machines it had no plan to use.
The Investigation
When the story emerged, the matter was referred to the Special Investigating Unit (SIU), the government body tasked with investigating corruption and misconduct in the public sector. The SIU is supposed to determine how this procurement occurred and recover the funds.
The referral to the SIU is standard procedure. What follows is less certain. The machines will likely remain in storage. Officials may be investigated. A report will probably be produced detailing how the procurement fell outside proper procedure. Recommendations may be made for accountability.
And then the cycle typically stops. No resignations. No criminal charges. No funds recovered. The matter is closed, filed away, and the department moves forward to the next budget vote and the next request for more money.
What This Reveals
This is not primarily a story about waste. Governments waste money. The real story is what happens when waste this obvious produces no consequences.
A Defence Minister standing in Parliament admitting that R28 million was spent with no plan is not a moment of accountability. It is a moment where accountability fails in public, and the system treats it as routine business.
Motshekga did not hide. She did not dissemble. She gave a direct answer: yes, we spent the money; no, there was no plan; yes, the machines are unused. The parliamentary record is clear.
And yet the question that follows—what happens now?—has a predictable answer. Nothing.
In a few weeks, this story will fade from the news cycle. The next scandal will arrive. People might mention the pothole machines over drinks and laugh about how the government spent R28 million on machines that have fixed zero potholes. Everyone will acknowledge the absurdity. No one will know what comes next.
What comes next is that the system absorbs the failure and continues turning. The Defence Department will put out the next budget vote. Some of the money will go to legitimate defence work. Some will vanish into contracts with no clear purpose, into equipment that is never used, into projects that were never planned. And the cycle repeats.
This is what institutional rot looks like when it has stopped bothering to hide. Nobody broke any laws. It just looks that way because accountability stopped working.
