[Image: Instagram/peetviljoen_ttn]
Tammy Taylor Global Franchising and its controversial power couple, Melany Viljoen and her husband Peet, just got handed a legal smackdown in the Pretoria High Court. The judge ruled they have to cough up R600 000 to a would-be franchisee they allegedly sold dreams to and delivered dust.
Oh, and they’ve also been told, quite firmly, to quit pretending they’ve got the right to peddle Tammy Taylor franchises in South Africa, The Citizen reports.
Judge Joseph Raulinga dropped the hammer on 25 April, siding with Lebohang Hlathuka from Joburg, who took Tammy Taylor Global Franchising and the Viljoens to court after her salon dreams turned into a R600k nightmare.
She asked the court to declare the deal “unconscionable, unjust and unreasonable” under the Consumer Protection Act. The judge agreed, and now the Viljoens are on the hook.
But wait, it gets messier. Hlathuka didn’t stop at asking for a refund. She wanted the court to order that the Tammy Taylor circus must pack up shop unless they can prove they actually have a licence to operate from the trademark owner. (They can’t.)
She also called them out for what she claimed was straight-up fraud, arguing they ran their so-called business in a way that’s illegal under the Companies Act. She even asked that the case be sent to the National Prosecuting Authority for possible criminal charges. Someone call Carte Blanche – oh wait, they’re already in this story.
According to her court papers, Hlathuka first got sucked in by a glossy Instagram post. A meeting was arranged at Tammy Taylor HQ, where she says things got shady, fast.
First, she had to fill out a questionnaire and hand over her ID. Then a woman named Crystal laid on the pressure: only one spot left, and if she wanted the keys to her new salon in seven weeks, she had to act fast.
Then Peet Viljoen swaggered in, introduced himself as the CEO and claimed he used to be an attorney. He was, until he got struck off the roll. Oh, and then Mel Viljoen showed up, just to round out the power couple moment.
Peet and Crystal confirmed the R600,000 price tag, which supposedly covered everything from licensing to training. When Hlathuka asked for time to think, they pulled the oldest hustle in the book: “Another potential owner is waiting in reception.” Classic.
She tried negotiating, offering to pay R150,000 first, but was told nope, it’s all or nothing. When she asked about signing anything, Crystal allegedly brushed it off: “You’re in safe hands.”
Despite her husband’s warnings, Hlathuka transferred the full R600,000. She got a contract only after paying, and when she and her husband finally read it, they realised they’d been bait-and-switched. The contract included an extra R345,000 licence fee they’d never agreed to. When she confronted them, Crystal played the “oops, wrong contract” card, and Peet pulled rank, saying the deal was a “special promotion” and he wouldn’t budge.
Cue the red flags in full technicolour. Hlathuka tried to get answers, but was met with ghosting. When she asked about the negative headlines swirling around the Viljoens, Peet reportedly brushed them off as “false accusations by people trying to destroy his company and his name due to his celebrity status.” Because, of course, he did.
Hlathuka refused to sign the dodgy contract. Peet, ever the smooth talker, told her to “find a location” anyway. She did. And still no proper contract. When she said she wanted out, Peet gave her this gem: “Stop shopping around for bad news and stop being a panic button.” He also promised, “I will not fail you.” Right.
She went ahead with the training, where things took a soap-opera turn: Carte Blanche showed up unannounced to question Peet, and the trainees were hustled out of the building. Later, Peet spun it as a story about “a crazy man” whose wife died and who wanted her salon money back. Because nothing says “trust us” like a reality TV cover-up.
She found another location, only to discover no one from Tammy Taylor had contacted the centre as claimed. That, she said, was the last straw. She confronted Peet, asked about a refund policy, and instead of an answer, she and her husband got walked out of the building and told not to come back.
Judge Raulinga didn’t just throw the book at them, he used the entire legal library. He declared the transaction void, ordered a full refund with interest, and said Tammy Taylor Global Franchising and the Viljoens must stop pretending they’re licensed. He even ordered them to scrub everything – websites, forms, social media, you name it – of any mention of Tammy Taylor within 30 days.
And just for good measure, he told the court registrar to send the whole file to the National Prosecuting Authority.
The Viljoens’ lawyer says they’ll appeal. Of course they will. The Viljoens themselves? No response. Maybe they’re too busy trying to scrub the internet or pretend everything is still lush and lovely.
[Source: The Citizen]