I do not know whether the second accused took the rap for you
In a Johannesburg courtroom, the youngest son of Zimbabwe's late strongman Robert Mugabe was fined and deported — not for the shooting of a young employee that first brought him before the law, but for a toy gun incident and immigration violations that offered the court a narrower, more certain path to judgment. The attempted murder charge dissolved after the victim accepted a financial settlement, leaving the magistrate himself to wonder aloud whether justice had fully arrived. It is a story as old as power itself: the law moves, but not always in straight lines, and those who inherit famous names often navigate its corridors differently than those who do not.
- A 23-year-old employee, Sipho Mahlangu, was shot in the back at the Mugabe family home in February, setting off legal proceedings that would treat two accused men very differently.
- Bellarmine Chatunga Mugabe faced an attempted murder charge alongside his cousin, but that charge effectively collapsed after Mahlangu accepted 250,000 rand to withdraw his complaint.
- The magistrate openly questioned from the bench whether the cousin had 'taken the rap,' signalling deep unease with the outcome even as he was bound by what the evidence before him allowed.
- Cousin Tobias Matonhodze pleaded guilty to attempted murder and received three years in prison, while Bellarmine was fined 600,000 rand on lesser charges and escorted to the airport.
- The deportation order — a formal expulsion back to Zimbabwe — stands as the most consequential punishment Bellarmine will face, raising urgent questions about whether wealth quietly settled what the law could not.
In a Johannesburg courtroom this week, a judge ordered the deportation of Robert Mugabe's youngest son — though not for the crime that first brought him to trial. Bellarmine Chatunga Mugabe, 28, pleaded guilty to pointing what appeared to be a real firearm in 2023 and to breaching South African immigration law, drawing fines of 400,000 and 200,000 rand respectively. Police were instructed to escort him directly to the international airport and onto a flight back to Zimbabwe.
The case had begun far more gravely. In February, a 23-year-old employee named Sipho Mahlangu was shot in the back at the Mugabe family home in an affluent Johannesburg suburb. Both Bellarmine and his cousin Tobias Mugabe Matonhodze, 33, were charged with attempted murder. Matonhodze pleaded guilty and was sentenced to three years in prison. Bellarmine's path was different: the attempted murder charge dissolved after Mahlangu agreed to withdraw his complaint, having received 250,000 rand immediately with another 150,000 promised to follow.
Magistrate Renier Boshoff did not conceal his unease. Speaking directly to Bellarmine, he said he could not know whether the cousin had taken the rap, and could only act on what was before him. What lay before him were the lesser guilty pleas — not the shooting. Prosecutors had sought lengthy sentences. Instead, Boshoff imposed fines and a deportation order, noting that both men had spent months in custody and that the victim himself no longer wished to proceed.
The Mugabe name carries a long shadow. Robert Mugabe ruled Zimbabwe for nearly four decades before a military coup removed him in 2017; he died in 2019. His sons became tabloid figures in the 2010s, known for displays of wealth online. Their mother, Grace Mugabe, avoided prosecution in South Africa in 2017 by claiming diplomatic immunity after being accused of assault. Bellarmine's own legal troubles stretch further: Zimbabwean media reported arrests in 2024 for allegedly assaulting a police officer and attacking a security guard at a goldmine, with those cases still unresolved.
South Africa has now formally ended his right to remain. The machinery of the law reached its conclusion — slowly, and with questions it could not quite answer.
In a Johannesburg courtroom this week, a judge ordered the deportation of Robert Mugabe's youngest son—not for the shooting that brought him to trial, but for separate offences that carried their own weight. Bellarmine Chatunga Mugabe, 28, pleaded guilty to pointing what appeared to be a real firearm in 2023, an act the court deemed reckless enough to warrant a fine of 400,000 rand. He also admitted to breaking South African immigration law, for which he was fined another 200,000 rand. The judge then instructed police to escort him directly to Johannesburg's international airport and put him on a plane back to Zimbabwe.
Two months earlier, on a February afternoon at the Mugabe family home in an affluent suburb, a 23-year-old employee named Sipho Mahlangu was shot in the back. Bellarmine and his cousin Tobias Mugabe Matonhodze, 33, were both charged with attempted murder. The shooting set off a chain of legal proceedings that would unfold very differently for each man. Matonhodze pleaded guilty to attempted murder alongside firearms offences and immigration violations. He was sentenced to three years in prison on Wednesday. But Bellarmine's case took a different path.
The magistrate, Renier Boshoff, seemed puzzled by the arrangement. "I do not know whether the second accused took the rap for you, and I can only act on what is before me," he told Bellarmine from the bench. What lay before him were the guilty pleas to the toy gun incident and the immigration breach—not the shooting itself. The attempted murder charge, which had hung over both men since February, had effectively dissolved. Mahlangu, the victim, had agreed to withdraw his complaint after receiving payment. An investigating officer testified that the young man had been given 250,000 rand immediately, with another 150,000 promised later.
The judge acknowledged the mitigating factors: both men had spent months in custody since the shooting, both had pleaded guilty to their respective charges, and the victim himself no longer wished to pursue the case. Prosecutors had asked for lengthy sentences. Instead, Boshoff imposed fines on Bellarmine and ordered his removal from the country. The deportation order was the more decisive punishment—a formal expulsion that would send him across the border into Zimbabwe, the country his father once ruled.
Robert Mugabe governed Zimbabwe for nearly four decades, initially celebrated as the leader who dismantled white minority rule. His tenure curdled into authoritarianism, economic ruin, and hyperinflation. A military coup removed him in 2017; he died two years later at 95. His sons inherited notoriety rather than power. Bellarmine and his older brother Robert Junior, 34, became fixtures of tabloid coverage in the 2010s, posting images of their wealth and leisure online. Their mother, Grace Mugabe, had her own brush with South African justice in 2017 when a model accused her of assault with an electric cable. She escaped prosecution by claiming diplomatic immunity.
Bellarmine's legal troubles extend beyond this Johannesburg courtroom. Zimbabwean media reported that in 2024 he was arrested for allegedly assaulting a police officer at a roadblock. Last June, he was detained and later released on bail after allegedly attacking a security guard at a goldmine. The status of those cases remains unclear. What is clear is that South Africa has now formally severed his right to remain there. The deportation order stands. The fine has been assessed. The machinery of the law, having moved slowly and in ways that left questions unanswered, has reached its conclusion.
Notable Quotes
I do not know whether the second accused took the rap for you, and I can only act on what is before me.— Magistrate Renier Boshoff
The Hearth Conversation Another angle on the story
Why does the toy gun incident from 2023 matter so much that it becomes the basis for deportation, when the shooting just happened in February?
Because it's what he actually pleaded guilty to. The shooting—that's murkier. His cousin took the attempted murder charge. The toy gun and immigration violations are clean, unambiguous admissions.
So the victim being paid to drop charges—that's not unusual in South Africa?
It happens. But a judge noticing it, saying out loud that he doesn't know if the cousin took the fall—that's the court acknowledging something doesn't add up.
What does deportation actually mean for someone like Bellarmine? He's Zimbabwean by birth.
It means he loses access to South Africa. No residency, no business dealings there, no return without permission. For someone who's built a life in Johannesburg's wealthy circles, it's a real severance.
And Zimbabwe—is that a safe place for him to go back to, given his history there?
That's the question nobody's asking in the courtroom. He's been arrested twice in Zimbabwe in the last two years. Going home might mean walking into more legal trouble, not less.
Does his father's legacy follow him there?
It does and it doesn't. The Mugabe name opens doors and closes them simultaneously. He's not Robert Mugabe, but he's not separate from him either.