Over a month ago, Kagiso Rabada quietly left the IPL, with his franchise, the Gujarat Titans, stating only that he had returned home for “personal reasons.” At the time, there was no hint of controversy. No mention of a failed drug test. It was only weeks later that the real reason emerged: South Africa’s premier fast bowler had tested positive for a recreational drug and was serving a provisional suspension—behind closed doors, and under a cloud of silence.
It is understood that Rabada was tested during the SA20 tournament in January while representing MI Cape Town. The test later returned an adverse analytical finding, and yet, there was no public disclosure until after his IPL departure in early April.
Even now, the specific drug involved has not been revealed, adding to the growing list of unanswered questions.
Now, Rabada is back in the IPL as if nothing happened. No press conference. No detailed explanation from Cricket South Africa (CSA) or the IPL. Just a carefully worded statement confirming the suspension and a note of contrition from Rabada via the South African Cricketers Association. The entire episode feels neatly managed—and perhaps, too conveniently timed.
Let’s be clear: this is not about condemning Rabada. He is one of South Africa’s greatest modern cricketers and remains a vital figure in our national team. Nor is this about the use of recreational substances, which, while serious, does not equate to performance-enhancing drug use. But the core issue here is not the drug—it’s the process, or rather the lack of transparency around it.
Other athletes, both locally and internationally, have faced intense scrutiny, suspensions, and media storms for similar infractions. The rules appear to apply strictly—until a superstar is involved.
In Rabada’s case, his month-long absence from the IPL doubled as a provisional suspension, and now he returns just in time to prepare for the ICC World Test Championship Final against Australia in June. There’s been no formal announcement of a hearing, no clarification of disciplinary steps, no public discussion of rehabilitation or player welfare programs.
Are we supposed to believe this is just coincidence? Or are we watching a calculated form of damage control to ensure South Africa’s most valuable bowler is available for one of the biggest matches of the year?
Rabada’s personal statement is heartfelt and accountable. He admits to the mistake, expresses remorse, and reaffirms his commitment to the sport. These are commendable steps, but they do not substitute for a transparent process.
Cricket South Africa, which claims to be fully committed to drug-free sport, owes the public and the cricket community a clearer explanation of how such matters are handled—especially when they involve elite players.
South African cricket is still rebuilding trust after years of administrative issues, political distractions, and on-field inconsistency. If we now start managing crises behind closed doors to protect star assets, we risk returning to a culture of selective accountability. That does no favors the game, the players, or the fans.
Rabada is a generational talent. His statistics—327 Test wickets, 168 in ODIs, and 71 in T20s—speak for themselves. But greatness comes with responsibility and the institutions around him must rise to the same standard.
Protecting reputations at the expense of transparency sends the wrong message to the next generation of cricketers.
Rabada’s return to cricket is welcomed but South African cricket must also return to principles—of consistency, of fairness, and of open communication. Otherwise, the silence around this episode will be remembered long after the next wicket falls.
