Did Miami-Dade’s Kionne McGhee ‘buy off’ a lawsuit with a county job?

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Something stinks at Miami-Dade County, queridos, and it’s not the trash at the illegal dump sites Commissioner Kionne McGhee keeps complaining about. No — this is an entirely different kind of smell. A political one. A transactional one. A “wait, what did they just do?” kind of stench.

Let’s start at the beginning, because this story needs a flow chart.

The county’s Violence Prevention & Intervention Division — the outfit that runs domestic-violence shelters, injunctions, and victim services — had a division director vacancy gathering dust for years and years. They just kept shuffling people under interim leadership and hoping nobody noticed.

Then in July of 2023, something magical happened: Shareefah Robinson sued her employer, the non-profit Children of Inmates, for wrongful termination after she became a whistleblower on what she called fraudulent use of state funds by the president of the organization and “dear friend” of McGhee’s. Robinson also said they owed her back pay.

And just four days later, after years of nada, Miami-Dade County suddenly posts the long-vacant Violence Prevention and Intervention Division director job within the Community Action and Human Services Department. For a 14-day window.

Ladra has shoes that were on sale longer.

Read related: Miami-Dade committee punts hard on Kionee McGhee’s non-profit slush fund

Then things started moving inside CAHSD — which was divided last budget cycle into two departments — like someone flipped a panic switch. In October 2023, then Assistant Director Ivon Mesa — founder and chair of the Miami-Dade Human Trafficking Coalition — gets removed. Booted. Shipped off to the corrections department. Then, in January of 2024, guess who was suddenly introduced as the new division director? Lawsuit-filing Shareefah Robinson. Through the rest of the year, there’s a bunch of turnover, allegations against her, two complaints with the county’s Human Rights and Fair Employment Practices Division, cease and desist letters.

Meanwhile, Robinson’s lawsuit against Children of Inmates was quietly sitting in court, like a loaded gun.

And then, poof, it went away.

On or about November 6 or 7 of last year, while Robinson is safely in her new county director chair, her lawsuit is dismissed for failure to prosecute. Not settled. Not adjudicated. Just… oops, we no longer care. There had been no activity in ten months, the motion to dismiss states. If you do the math backwards, that means January — when she got her new job.

Very county employee with a new six-figure salary of her.

Robinson — who let her marriage and family therapy license from the Florida Department of Health expire in 2022 —  is making $140,545 a year. Not only is that over the $137,125 cap on the job description, but it looks, from her resume, that Robinson may not be as qualified as other candidates, including internal candidates that had been working in victim services for years. She had been a clinic director at the Fort Lauderdale Comprehensive Treatment Center and the chief programming officer at Touching Miami With Love — another nonprofit that gets money from Miami-Dade County in partnership with organizations like The Miami Foundation and The Children’s Trust to fund initiatives for youth activities, parenting programs and adult training in Homestead, Florida City and Overtown.

Oh, and before that she was chief operating officer at Children of Inmates, where she was either fired for stealing time or for being a whistleblower, depending on who tells the story.

Read related: Kionne McGhee has own Miami-Dade budget town hall to focus on non-profits

Fast forward to the Sept. 18 county budget meeting, when McGhee — who has been dodging calls, texts, carrier pigeons, smoke signals and telepathy on this subject — casually announces: “I receive $175,000 from Children of Inmates.”

The same nonprofit Robinson sued. The same nonprofit whose lawsuit magically evaporated after Robinson was handed a division director job. The same nonprofit tied to the timeline of her suspicious fast-track into county leadership. The same nonprofit that got $250,000 from the county in the 2025-26 budget.

So let’s pull it all together: A woman sues a nonprofit for wrongful termination. She says the non-profit’s president, Shellie Solomon (McGhee’s girl) — who he recently honored at the Miami for Hope gala (what?) — is using the organization’s money to pay for her own parent’s care. The non-profit is tied to McGhee, who secured funds for it when he was a Florida state representative and has listed it as a revenue source in his financial disclosures for years. Four days after the lawsuit is filed — four days — a county job that’s been empty for years suddenly opens up, but only for two weeks. Leadership is rearranged. The woman suing the non-profit gets the job. And her lawsuit dies a quiet death.

But, no, no, I’m sure this is all just a coincidence. Miami-Dade County would never use jobs as bargaining chips. And commissioners would never have any influence over hiring in departments they oversee. And nonprofits would never pay commissioners who vote on budgets affecting them. Nunca. Jamás. Qué va.

Ay, please.

Read related: Miami-Dade might skim a little off the top of contracts — for the nonprofits

This entire thing smells like a politically arranged hush-hush settlement where the payout was a six-figure salary and great benefits. And Ladra is left with questions: Why was a critical job left open for years but rushed open days after a lawsuit was filed Why was it posted for only 14 days? Why did key leadership get removed or shuffled during the process? Why did the lawsuit die only after she was secured in her job?

And, most importantly, how did a county commissioner get involved to help his employer and his “good friend?”

McGhee hasn’t answered calls or texts for more than a week. His last text back was on Veteran’s Day. And he knows what it was about. In the last text on Wednesday, Ladra wrote that his silence would be taken as a no comment. “But you know why I am calling. If you can provide any information as to why Shareefah Robinson’s job was not a payoff to get her to drop her lawsuit vs Children of Inmantes, please call me. Thank you.”

He didn’t call me. Probably because he can’t unconnect the dots.

Robinson couldn’t be reached at her county office day after day. Ladra left messages. They were not returned.

But don’t worry. Ladra isn’t letting this go. Not when it’s domestic violence services — real life-and-death work — being used like political currency. The whole Violence Prevention and Intervention Division needs to be audited and public records need to be requested.

Stay tuned. Because the lawsuit might be dead, but its ghost is just coming to life.

This kind of independent, government watchdog reporting is crucial to transparency and democracy. Help shine a light on the darker corners of our community with a contribution to Political Cortadito. Click here. Ladra thanks you for your support.

  Kionne McGhee, non-profits, Shareefah Robinson