General George Patton, a World War figure, would say, "knowing what killed the dead can save the living." In 2016, when Dr Maletela Tuoane told me she intended to leave Statistics South Africa (StatsSA) for a job at the World Bank, I asked her to attend a meeting on a Saturday with the aim to persuade her from leaving the mighty organisation. However, ultimately after a day-long deliberation, she still had decided that she had made the right decision.
Eleven years later, on 24 March, when I penned, “Mourning Statistics: The consequences of Trump’s policies on global health" in Business Report, it brought to mind the significant contributions she had made to Cause of Death statistics at StatsSA. Little did I know that I had played "The Murder She Wrote." Two weeks later, Tuoane would take her last breath on April 7 and depart the world of the living. A distraught message from Malerato Mosiane, who now lives in New Zealand, would wake me up to this sad news, and thereafter was an outpouring of grief.
In the article, I had pointed out that I was left with the choice of mourning the demise of statistics or the demise of my cousin. When I got back to the office, I repeatedly focused on asking the question of mourning. In the article of April 24, I wrote as though in "The Murder She Wrote." Then Dr Tuoane, who headed the causes of death division at StatsSA, came with an institutional solution of turning doctors into cause-of-death reporting advocates. A course for doctors was arranged, and the medics began a programme on cause of death very much to their delight, despite my heavy scepticism towards them after I was subjected to a difficult choice of mourning statistics or the demise of my cousin.
At the World Bank, where Maletela had worked tirelessly, a memorial service was held on Friday, and speaker after speaker commented on the contribution Maletela brought to this entity on matters of life and the importance of leaving traces of greatness of each individual who inhabits this planet. That was the work-life of Maletela. Little did I know that in my article where I wrote, "While Trump is a man of several trump cards and gaffes, such as a 'small country none on the globe knows much about [Lesotho]'," two weeks later, right next to the White House, at the World Bank, a memorial service was held for one who came from this country no one knows about.
At the last count, 450 people across the world were on the platform touched by the girl from the Mountain Kingdom that possibly only President Trump did not know about. Ironically, Lesotho would get the wrath of tariffs when finally somebody knew about this country nobody knew. Lesotho was slapped with 50% tariffs, the highest before the trade war exchange between the US and China escalated.
Maletela’s passing is impactful in the aftermath in its magnificent imagery. Somebody probably now knows an unknown country where a Dr "Nobody" came from to shine light amongst the to-be-born, the living, and the dead. Maletela shone light from the World Bank, a mere stone’s throw from the White House. The light was one of why humane systems across the world count for life and why counting every life and giving it recognition is the greatest gift of life for being amongst the living.
I was greatly honoured to be one of those to relive the life of Maletela, which incidentally I had to deliver from this country that nobody knows. I was on a mission at the Lesotho Statistics Office advising on the statistics law. On discussing the clause of confidentiality, I could not help but remember how Maletela did not only challenge the medical doctors and introduced the training on International Classification of Diseases (ICD10), but also critically raised matters of privacy for the dead to sleep and rest well.
As an architect of the Cause of Death Statistics at the mighty organisation, StatsSA, she confronted me on one occasion on the question of privacy. A confession, so to say, that she made that privacy conditions have been violated in the report on causes of death. This was a consequence of being detailed in disaggregation by geography. That being so, she would alert me to the fact that Madiba could easily be identified in the record of the dead, and so could anyone else. That assertion left me quite shocked as my mind raced across the United Nations Fundamental Principles of Official Statistics.
There are ten of these, and Principle Six, which states as follows, "Individual data collected by statistical agencies for statistical compilation, whether they refer to natural or legal persons, are to be strictly confidential and used exclusively for statistical purposes," could have possibly been violated by the Statistician-General.
So, there we were. The detail in the statistics could easily be identified as that of Madiba once anyone cross-referenced date of birth by date of death, cause of death, sex, and geographical location where the death was registered. Upon focusing on the content of the Statistics Act, it was explicit on what confidentiality meant, a matter not explicit in the Statistics Act of South Africa. This was stated unless for data already in the public domain. And of course, cause of death is data in the public domain where mourners are served with the detail of what killed the dead. I was greatly relieved of guilt 12 years later to know that in fact Maletela and I had not violated confidentiality, because cause of death is a public domain attribute.
Tuoane had been fighting cancer, although it was in remission, it had jumped to the liver. Cancer of the liver is what led to the demise of this female soul that was born into this planet earth on 22 January 1971 and departed on 7 April 2025. Maletela’s work-life was a fight against the scandal of invisibility where some people are born without a trace, live in this world, and leave it without a trace. But secondly, Maletela was inspired by making a difference, and third, despite the tiring schedule, her children were her life. A difference she made, and I am pleased that Lesotho bore a Manthatisi of a type, and StatsSA would polish this jewel to be visible to the world, and she fought a global fight against the scandal of invisibility.
Dr Pali Lehohla is a Professor of Practice at the University of Johannesburg, a Research Associate at Oxford University, and a distinguished Alumni of the University of Ghana. He is the former Statistician-General of South Africa
*** The views expressed here do not necessarily represent those of Independent Media or IOL.
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