For over a decade, self-proclaimed prophet Paseka Motsoeneng, better known as Prophet Mboro, has operated with impunity, his Incredible Happenings Ministry a haven for audacious pronouncements and brazen disregard for the law.
Last week, however, the flamboyant pastor, accustomed to cruising in a convoy of luxury vehicles flanked by heavily armed men, found himself in the dock of the Palm Ridge Magistrates’ Court, his usual swagger replaced by a subdued demeanor.
These charges stem from a shocking incident where two young boys, the children of Mboro’s son, were forcibly removed from their school by a man wielding a panga, part of Mboro’s entourage.
The court had previously placed the children in the custody of their grandmother pending a custody battle between their late mother’s family and their father, Mboro’s son. But in Mboro’s world, the law seems to be a mere suggestion, a set of rules that can be conveniently ignored when it suits him.
“A few months ago all these children were in the crèche. And here you have men waving a panga and an AK-47 in front of a primary school. Some of these children have never seen a gun, never mind a machete,” exclaimed prosecutor Pheello Vilakazi, highlighting the gravity of the situation.
Vilakazi further revealed that more guns were discovered in the boot of one of the cars in Mboro’s fleet parked outside the court. He alleged that none of the weapons were licensed and that the kidnapping was “brazen”, a word that aptly describes Mboro’s modus operandi.
Mboro’s legal team, however, attempted to downplay the incident, arguing that it was a “private” matter, a “domestic” trifle, and that the state and church should be separated. This argument, however, falls flat in the face of the blatant disregard for the law and the safety of the children involved.
“If you can receive a call that your child is under attack, this case would stop and you would want to attend to the matter,” offered Mboro’s legal representative advocate Phillip Dlamini who was attempting to justify the actions of his client.
This statement, however, ignores the fact that the children were under the care of the court and that Mboro’s actions were a direct violation of that order.
Mboro’s obsession with ‘lula lula’ is no secret. His ministry is rife with references to “biscuits (stonyeni)” and “vuvuzelas (male bedroom anacondas)”, and women are encouraged to bring their underwear for “blessings” from the “prophet”. He even runs his own TV and radio station where “worshippers” can get close to him and receive his special blessings.
The court heard that Mboro had been arrested on nine previous occasions for breaking the law, but each time the charges were withdrawn. This pattern of impunity has emboldened Mboro, allowing him to operate with a sense of immunity.
Despite claiming poverty during his bail application, Mboro has been accused of misappropriating church funds to finance his lavish lifestyle. He owns multiple properties and has given several addresses to the police.
Religious institutions and public benefit organisations are tax-exempt in South Africa. Mboro knows this. The South African Revenue Service (SARS) knows this. SARS has previously stated its intention to ensure that existing tax legislation directed at such institutions and their employees is applied.
Applications need to be made for public benefit organisation status and those institutions that do not apply are fully taxable.
Mboro’s branded products sell like hotcakes at his gatherings. He might believe the profits from them are tax-free, but they ain’t.
