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The Madlanga Commission witness gunned down in front of his wife and children on Friday night has been identified as Witness D — 44-year-old private security boss and former EMPD officer, Marius “Vlam” van der Merwe.
His death, swift and brutal, unfolded in the quiet streets of Brenthurst in Brakpan. Just after sunset, neighbours reported hearing a burst of gunfire, followed by the piercing screams of a woman. By the time police arrived, van der Merwe lay motionless beside his vehicle, his family frozen in shock beside him.
National SAPS spokesperson Brigadier Athlenda Mathe confirmed the killing, describing it as a “targeted attack carried out with precision.” No arrests have been made.
To many within South Africa’s security circles, the name “Vlam” carried weight — and danger. Van der Merwe was not only the owner of QRF Task Team, a private tactical unit, but also a crucial witness before the Madlanga Commission. And what he said three weeks ago may now echo louder than gunfire.
In his testimony, delivered off-camera for his safety, van der Merwe implicated senior Ekurhuleni Metropolitan Police Department (EMPD) officer Brigadier Julius Mkhwanazi in a disturbing cover-up. He told the Commission that Mkhwanazi had ordered him to dispose of the body of a Brakpan robbery suspect killed during a joint operation involving EMPD and SAPS officers.
Dump it in a mineshaft, van der Merwe alleged Mkhwanazi told him. Or in a dam. Just make sure it disappears.
He told the Commission he complied out of fear — fear that refusing the order would cost him his own life.
That fear, many now believe, may have been justified.
Van der Merwe recalled the events of April 15, 2022, when security firm owner Kobus Janse van Rensburg repeatedly phoned him, urging him to join an operation targeting a robbery suspect. When the suspect was subdued, van der Merwe told the Commission he witnessed officers beating the man until he stopped breathing.
From that moment, he said, the operation spiralled from law enforcement into something unrecognisable. Instead of reporting the death, the officers allegedly scrambled to hide it. And van der Merwe, trapped in the middle, claimed he was forced into becoming the clean-up crew.
He loaded the body into a van, drove to Nigel, and released it into a dam.
His testimony was specific, graphic, and damning. And it placed a senior EMPD figure directly in the crosshairs.
Now, three weeks later, van der Merwe is dead.
Vision Tactical, the private security company with longstanding ties to van der Merwe, confirmed his identity and condemned the killing, hinting at a link between his testimony and his murder. “This was not a random incident,” the company said in a brief statement. “The timing speaks for itself.”
The assassination has shaken the already tense atmosphere around the Madlanga Commission, which has been probing alleged corruption, misconduct, and extrajudicial actions by law enforcement officials. Witnesses have spoken of intimidation, surveillance, and threats — but this is the first killing of someone believed to be connected to the inquiry.
The attack on van der Merwe was swift. According to early information, the gunmen waited for him outside his home, approaching as he arrived with his family. He was shot multiple times at close range, leaving no room for escape. His wife and children, standing just metres away, were spared — but left with a memory that will haunt them for life.
Investigators are now piecing together whether the murder was carried out by hired hitmen, a rogue faction within law enforcement, or individuals implicated by van der Merwe’s testimony.
Forensic teams combed the scene through the night, collecting shell casings and reviewing nearby CCTV footage. Police sources say the attackers appear to have known van der Merwe’s routines, suggesting planning, surveillance, and coordination.
Residents of Brenthurst say the killing felt like a warning — public, brazen, and meant to send a message.
Inside the Commission, that message is unmistakable: speaking up can be deadly.
Already, lawyers representing other witnesses are calling for urgent protective measures. Some want off-camera testimony extended. Others are urging the appointment of an independent security unit separate from SAPS, citing fears that individuals implicated in ongoing testimonies may still hold influence within the police.
For Brigadier Mkhwanazi, the allegations hang heavier now. He has strongly denied any wrongdoing, accusing witnesses of fabrications and ulterior motives. But van der Merwe’s death complicates his defence, inviting new scrutiny and political pressure.
Opposition parties are calling for Parliament to intervene, accusing the state of failing to protect whistleblowers. Civil society organisations warn that South Africa’s justice system cannot function if witnesses are silenced through violence.
Meanwhile, the Commission faces a chilling dilemma: how to continue probing allegations when its witnesses are being cut down before they can speak fully and freely.
For van der Merwe’s family, none of these political ripples matter in the face of their loss. A husband, father, and colleague is gone — murdered metres from his children.
Yet the timing, the method, and the motive point far beyond a domestic tragedy.
The killing of Witness D is more than a murder. It is a direct strike at the heart of a national inquiry — and a signal that some truths, once spoken, carry consequences no witness should ever face.
The Commission must now decide how to proceed. South Africa must decide what it is willing to tolerate.
And somewhere in Brakpan, a family mourns a man whose final act was telling the truth — a truth that may have cost him his life.
