Podcast and Chill made jokes about Elizabeth "Tsontso" Moselakgomo, a woman who went missing after going for a run and was subsequently found dead
Podcast and Chill hosts Sol Phenduka and MacG. Picture: Supplied
There comes a point when “it’s just a joke” stops being an excuse. South Africa may have reached that point with Podcast and Chill with MacG.
MacGyver “MacG” Mukwevho and Solomzi “Sol” Phenduka have built one of South Africa’s most recognisable podcast platforms around irreverence, provocation and controversy. But influence comes with responsibility. When a platform of that size repeatedly makes women the butt of degrading commentary, audiences, advertisers and regulators are entitled to ask where the line is.
For many women, that line has long since been crossed. The latest controversy is particularly disturbing because it comes as South Africa confronts the brutal reality of violence against women. At least eight women had been found dead in Ekurhuleni since July, with police investigating the circumstances and possible links between the cases. On Thursday, a ninth woman’s body had been found in Dawn Park.
Against this backdrop, Podcast and Chill made jokes about Elizabeth “Tsontso” Moselakgomo, a 38-year-old mother who had gone missing after going for a run and was subsequently found dead. During the discussion, comments were made about her running, including a joke suggesting she should have simply kept running. Sol Phenduka later apologised, acknowledging that making jokes about a missing person was insensitive, particularly given South Africa’s femicide crisis.
An apology matters. But it raises a bigger question: why does it so often take public outrage for basic human sensitivity to enter the conversation? This is not an isolated controversy.
Television personality Minnie Dlamini has taken her own dispute with Podcast and Chill to the Equality Court. Dlamini is seeking R2.5 million in damages from MacG. R1 million is claimed for herself, while R1.5 million is intended for Women for Change.
MacG disputes aspects of her allegations, arguing that the comments were speculative and not intended to cause harm. He has indicated that he is willing to mediate and undergo gender-sensitisation training. The matter remains before the court, and those allegations have yet to be determined.
The people on the receiving end of this podcast are real. They have families, children, careers, reputations and dignity. GBV is not a women’s issue; it is a societal crisis.
The issue is bigger than one podcast, that is why the response should be collective, lawful and deliberate. South Africans understand the power of collective action because we have lived through it.
During apartheid, international opposition developed into a sustained campaign of political, economic, sporting and cultural pressure. The United Nations imposed a mandatory arms embargo on South Africa in 1977, prohibiting the supply of weapons and related military equipment. That embargo remained in place until 25 May 1994, after South Africa’s transition to democracy.
The campaign went far beyond arms. Countries introduced economic restrictions, companies withdrew investments, sporting bodies excluded South Africa, and cultural and academic boycotts contributed to the country’s international isolation. The United States introduced the Comprehensive Anti-Apartheid Act in 1986, imposing further economic sanctions and restrictions, many of which were lifted after the apartheid government began dismantling apartheid legislation and meeting the conditions attached to those measures.
The point is not to equate Podcast and Chill with apartheid. That would be neither accurate nor useful. The lesson is that collective action can send a powerful message about what society is prepared to tolerate. So perhaps it is time for a different kind of sanction: a consumer boycott. No government needs to legislate it. No court needs to order it.
Stop watching. Stop subscribing. Stop sharing the clips. Stop giving offensive commentary free publicity.
Attention is the currency of modern media. Without viewers there are no views; without views there is less reach; and without reach there is less commercial value. That is not censorship. It is consumer choice.
The hosts remain entitled to express their views. South Africans remain equally entitled to decide that they will not consume or financially support content they consider degrading to women. Advertisers, too, can decide whether association with the platform is consistent with their own values. Consumers can legitimately ask those brands where they stand. There are also formal avenues for accountability.
The Broadcasting Complaints Commission of South Africa can receive complaints concerning broadcasters and qualifying online-content services within its jurisdiction. Where Icasa has jurisdiction, its Complaints and Compliance Committee provides another regulatory avenue. The Commission for Gender Equality and the South African Human Rights Commission may also be relevant where complaints raise issues of gender discrimination, gender-based violence or human rights.
South Africans therefore do not have to choose between silence and online outrage. They can complain, challenge advertisers, refuse to consume the content and use the regulatory mechanisms available to them.
MacG and Sol Phenduka are fathers, brothers, sons and members of the same society in which women are being killed at horrifying rates. That should make this conversation deeply personal. The question is not whether Podcast and Chill is allowed to make jokes, it is whether South Africans are prepared to keep rewarding content that turns women’s dignity and suffering into entertainment.
South Africans once used boycotts and collective action to help isolate apartheid. Today, consumers can use the same democratic principle in a different context: withdraw support from content that crosses a line society should never have normalised. GBV is not entertainment and enough is enough.
Asa Sokopo Skiti is an award-winning former journalist now working in corporate affairs.
