July Morning

Dear Mr Sitole

Great performance at the SAHRC commission. 

I like the subtle distinction you made between not wrong / right and true. 

(Regarding the allegation that you were nowhere to be found during the July unrest)

 "It may not be wrong but it is not true."

Deep, philosophical stuff, sir. Reminded me of Pilate's "What is truth?" I think I can dimly see where you were going. Example: it's true that some services are dismally led, but it's not right. Am I on the right track, sir?

Like a good police commissioner, you led us, Sherlock Holmes fashion, through the keys and clues to the mystery of your  whereabouts. I have tried to unravel the matter as carefully as one may analyse a many-layered Shakespeare text. 

Here, South Africa, is what happened:

1. A person might have been looking for Mr Sitole

2.That person might not have found him

3. Because that person might have been looking in the wrong place

4. Where he wasn't 

I think that Uriah Heep foresaw this event - their song, July Morning (almost untouched):

There I was on a July morning 

I was looking for him..

I was looking for him in the strangest places

There wasn't a stone that I left unturned

I must have tried more than a thousand places

But no-one was aware of the fire that burned..

But, of course, they were the wrong places. You'd think people would know to look for a national commissioner in the right place. 

 

"But everyone who was looking for me during the unrest found me and could access me. Secondly, starting with my phone, it was on and I confirm it was not on silent."

I think you meant everyone except the misguided souls above, their mournful cries, I imagine, echoing eerily. Instead of just calling you on your mobile. Maybe the horrendous airtime costs..

Sir, it gets a bit murky further on and I think you should have stopped earlier.

"And the whole communication system of SAPS that is activated during an operation was activated and no one was found to be looking for me. Even the community [CPFs through a community activation plan], could access me and we communicated."

You don't see a teeny contradiction? 

Then again, you concluded quite nicely and succinctly:

"I don’t want to dispel the fact that there might have been people who were looking for me but all those who were looking for me at the right place did find me." 

Couldn't be clearer.

Yours in the struggle for crystal clear communication.

Richard 

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Learning From Looters

 Dear Mr President 

It must be tough being you. 

Even Bra Joe, who deals with pollution, fast food, traffic and municipal police daily, and needs Procydin to get through the day, doesn't have it as hard.

I bet you bury your head in your hands each time Mr Fu.., sorry, Fixit and other cabinet members open their well-oiled mouths. That's a lot of head-burying and some say you should bury them instead. Deep. I do understand your 'eendrag maak mag' approach  (unity is strength). It's a tradition dating from the fabulous days of the brotherhood  / broederbond. 

The advice you are getting is probably of similar quality to the pre-unrest / insurrection intelligence. One look at your cabinet suggests that. Listening to their dialogue, an  outlandish mixture of Orwell, Kafka and the Marx Brothers (Groucho, Harpo, Chico, Zeppo, Gummo and Karl),  strengthens the suspicion. Seeing things that have fallen apart, now decomposing as well, confirms that.

It must be deeply depressing doing a SWOT analysis. Here's some decent advice. 

Let's look at what is working well in South Africa (appreciative inquiry). Looting springs to mind immediately. Now what lessons might we learn from looting?

1. Focus. Don't sweat the small stuff. In the gritty language of the mining fraternity: "Kyk noord en v@#$ voort"

2. Vision. Dream big. 'Millions are for wimps. Billions or bust.'

3. Boldness. Best expressed by Macbeth's witches (lightly retouched):

Be lion-mettled, proud, and take no care Who chafes, who frets, or where conspirers are. Comrades shall never vanquished be until the Lord himself shall come.

 

4. Choose your friends wisely. From Hamlet:

Those friends thou hast, and their adoption tried, grapple them to thy soul with hoops of steel..

5. Productivity. Kipling retouched:

 If you can fill the unforgiving minute, with sixty seconds worth of looting done...

6. Know thyself. Rapio ergo sum - I loot, therefore I am 

It's worked for them.

Yours in the struggle for wisdom and direction.

Richard 

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Eine kleine Nachtmusik

 To the tune of 'Stand By Me'

In the night, Eskom

When the land is dark

And the moon is the only light we'll see 

Oh I feel so betrayed

All the bills that I've paid

And there's no

Electricity

Oh darn it, darn it

Can't you see 

All the misery 

When there's no 

Electricity 

If the lights that we depend upon

Should flicker and fail

Or the fridge ice should tumble to the floor

I can't grill, I can't  fry

There's no coal for the braai

Oh. darn it, darn it

Can't you see

Oh, the misery

When there's no

Electricity 

Darn it, darn it

Can't you see

It's misery 

Misery 

Forever we're in trouble

 When you drop the ball

Damn it all

You're a schmuck

And we're stuck, stuck with you 

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Fighting Corruption

 Dear Mr Kaunda

You vowed, not so long ago, to fight Corruption. 

I'm checking in to see how you're doing in the early rounds. I'm sure that you are stripped down to your boxing shorts (tasteful ANC colours). 

The ANC, the Don King of South African fights, have been promising action-starved SA fight fans this match for many years. One rumour has it that you ducked out of a July date. I don't believe it. 

Apparently you have some of the most experienced corner -men / corner-persons in the fight game. The name Gumede has been bandied about.

A plus-factor is that your opponent may not be in prime condition. He has been seen dining (some say pigging) in various places in KZN. He remains, however, a cunning, ruthless opponent. His skill at hanging onto the ropes and using every inch of the arena is legendary. He also has a crowd of raucous, fanatical supporters, who don't care what dirty tricks he resorts to in and out of the ring. Bought, some say. Brain-dead, others say. He did take some stinging blows in recent fights but his resilience is also legendary. Apparently he loves fighting in KZN and has been heard to say that the thickly humid climate suits him to a T.

You do realize, sir, that his stable-mate, Incompetence, has also been in training for years. You cannot claim the undefeated champion's belt until you've beaten both. Nothing short of a knockout will do. 

I'd suggest that you skip the touching gloves, sir, and get down to it. KZN waits.

Yours in the guts - and - glory struggle.

Richard

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Buggered

I thought this was passing strange until I read of the election of the Ethekwini mayor and his team:

"Zambian pastor James Sakara asked to be buried alive so he could come back to life in three days like Jesus. He didn't make it. Police have arrested the believers who helped bury him." https://t.co/NlDvHaOf9m

The voters appear to have done the same thing for KZN and there is even less hope for a resurrection. Not in three days. Not in three years. Unfortunately, the democratic process does not allow for the arrest of those responsible.

Past performance is an excellent predictor of future performance. The not-so-new mayor, it is widely said, did not cover himself in glory during the July unrest. Ms Gumede, on the other hand, say some, covered herself in....something else. And the voters are now hoping for what? It's like paying to watch a new production of Faustus in the hope that it will end differently

One could shoot oneself in the foot by accident. Clumsy, painful, regrettable. But to follow up by shooting oneself in the butt defies explanation. Perhaps it's the Durban poison. Or a variant of the old 'Natal Fever' virus. It couldn't be that we're that dumb, could it?

Someone said, on social media, that KZN is @#$%ed. That's going too far.

Buggered, yes.

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Blunderland

 "Gang of robbers storms army base, steals tanks and armoured vehicles."

At the rate we're going (downhill), this fictional report isn't as ludicrous as it seems at first reading.

"The robbers went on to rob, then flatten a couple of nearby shopping malls. The president was shocked and had to be revived with smelling salts from a certified BBBEE supplier. Mr Cele said that police would work day and night to establish whether the robbers had valid licenses for the army vehicles. Also whether there was a link to allegedly racist killings that occurred recently." (Report by MERDE: Mann Establishment for Resolving Dire Emergencies).

It is going to be well nigh impossible to write fiction about South Africa. There is no more disbelief to suspend willingly. Anything is now possible. And probable. Alice in Wonderland was a sober, academic treatise by comparison.

This follows reports about the storming of a police station in Limpopo (where else?). The number of robbers waxed and waned from thirty to ten, depending on which report one read. A spokesperson with a genius for stating the blindingly obvious contributed the following:

'Services at the police station were temporarily affected during the armed robbery.'

It probably would be a little awkward to continue writing out affidavits with a gun to one's head.

"The SAPS can now confirm that the police station is now fully functional and accessible to members of the public.", 

Not sure I'd be burning with eagerness to seek their services after that episode. 

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Wild Country

 Dear Fellow South Africans 

I have a friend in Kakistan. The stories he tells are barely credible.

Lately though, they have become so bizarre that I fear he is lying or losing his mind. I want to recommend a good analyst, Dr von Schollenhofen von Eltern unter den Tannenbàumen. I don't know how to approach my friend and would value some advice. Judge for yourselves.

During municipal elections, he says, some of the provinces voted overwhelmingly for the very party they have been protesting against. Not even a month later, they are again protesting about service delivery.

It gets more surreal. Apparently two candidates convicted of crimes were voted into top positions in one district. Now, in our country, we would not even allow them to stand. A bit  like electing Bonny and Clyde as sheriff and deputy, isnt it? Even in Kakistan, that defies belief.

Despite my best efforts, I couldn't help howling with laughter at this story. Two of their nominees for the vacant chief justice position are facing impeachment. He was not amused when I suggested that they canvass the local shebeens and taverns for likely candidates. Did I go too far? He mumbled sulkily that they are no longer in the running. "Ah, that makes it ok, then", I said, manfully hiding a smirk. "Proves that commonsense is in abundance in your country."

There were stories of corruption, depthless incompetence and the most exquisite buffoonery. I won't repeat those here. They are almost pornographic in the way that they violate everything that makes us better than slugs.

Apparently their new councillors are not expected to have basic computer skills. Papyrus is freely available. 

I rest my case. We've had democracy for twenty-seven years and which South African, in his / her right mind, could believe this fermented garbage?

Yours in the struggle for truth. 

Richard

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My Kingdom For An SUV

Dear Mr Malema

I find nothing unusual or untoward in your giving that king chap a Mercedes. A vehicle fit for a king. Had you given him a BMW or Toyota Corolla, now that would have been questionable. 

I think this fits quite nicely with your party's commitment to the needy. The king needed a vehicle, befitting his status. As king and one-time prisoner of conscience. Nice fit with dialectical materialism, too. This entire situation arises out of material needs. I am sure that there also some dialectics involved.

You looked quite royal yourself, in the recent pictures taken at the deeply moving handover ceremony. Rightly so. Your minio..., I mean, your followers have no questions about VBS, Ratanang, deals, tenders or your cartwheels and contortions. The sort of dum.., pardon, blin..., pardon, traditional allegiance that is the monarch's due.

Should you be seeking more kings to bolster the brand, let's get in touch. After all, 2024 is not far off. I am distantly related to the large King family of KZN. I am willing to wield my not inconsiderable influence. Of course, one needs a reliable SUV for that sort of work. 

The king scoffed at the ridiculous notion that this was a bribe. Things have come to a pretty pass if we can't accept the word of a king. Good grief, it must be at least as solid as that of your average South African politician. (A friend says that they are very average).

Yours in the struggle to restore dignity to the monarchy and the commoners on the ground.

Richard

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Brew

Dear Advertising Standards Authority 

I take strong exception to two beer advertisements currently being flighted on TV. Usually between Uyajola and Durban Gen, neither of which I watch.

In one ad, a gentleman with a suspiciously Scottish accent rudely berates a South African for ordering lime with his beer. While I regard ruining a good beer with lime as on a par with skewering little children, I will defend to the death every South African's right to do so. Ruin his beer, not the other. We don't need our former colonial masters interfering with our freedoms to turn our beer into horse urine. If we so desire.

In the genteel environs of a Wentworth pub, such behaviour would never be tolerated. I can hear the interjections from outraged patrons:

"Who you, bru?"

"Where you from, bru? Newlands East?"

"Ekse, how you dalaring with a ou having his dop in peace?"

The second ad, clearly blatantly false advertising, tells me that there's gold in my beer. Many quarts, crates and blinding headaches later, guess what? There may well be barley, hops and water aplenty. The fake diamond rush in Newcastle was a roaring success by comparison.

I intend to sue for the usual: mental anguish, loss of opportunity and other stuff I'm checking Google for.

Should the brands involved offer a year's supply of beer in a shameless attempt at bribery, I will be incandescent with indignation. On the other hand, one must sometimes do the pragmatic thing for the furtherance of world peace and other stuff. I would let it slide, while reluctantly  letting the beverage slide down my throat.

Yours in the struggle for human rights.

Richard 

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Reporting From Kakistan

Dear TV News Peoples 

Zuvedzai. This is Kakistani for 'Hollo'.

I am newly arriving in your pretty country. Very nice. I am well knowed television news reporter in Kakistan. Much news like your country. Good news and bad news, very same as yours.

The reason I am correspond with you is seeking employment as TV news reporter. My English is not so beautiful yet but I see is not supremely important on your English news. I am rapid learner and will soon be speaking like the queen. I have already learn much from your reporter in East Cape. I also willing to learn the funicular and do reporting therein as well. I am abling to rapidly scoop up languages.

I have inclosed some videos of my news reports I done in Kakistan. People are saying that the Kakistani accent is sexual like the French one. I am sure that your viewers will enjoying. 

Oh, by the road, I have working permit from friends at Homing Affairs. Good peoples. They come outside to help me and fees was sensible.

I noticing that quality of your news is, as we say at home, kak. This is Kakistani for excellence. (Kakistan mean 'Place Of Excellence' in English).

I am glancing forward to hearing from you with speed. 

Yours in the struggling for excellence in news and communications.

Richard

(One more things: I am also renouned back home for the writings on bottom of screen.)

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Grateful Dead

Dear Home Affairs 

According to TV news, a gentleman is struggling to prove that he is alive because your records have him down as having departed this vale of tears. 

I feel for him. I also go with the Chinese notion that crisis equals opportunity. His crisis, my opportunity. I herewith, hereby and forthwith apply to be declared dead until further notice. This would give me a respite from creditors and other stressful life issues. My WhatsApp and Facebook status will be edited accordingly.

Please do not respond with the standard government issue stuff about the difficulties involved. I have done my homework. This gentleman is not the first. You have handled the recording of deaths with great efficiency and aplomb. Could we please proceed without delay. 

I am sure that many politicians and public servants would benefit from this service. There are whole departments in the state apparatus that have shown no signs of life for some time.

One issue troubles me. A gentleman complained that he cannot travel. We live in a woke world. Why should the dead be discriminated against? I don't see why any dead person, with appropriate documentation, should not be allowed to travel where the spirit moves him / her. I am willing to take the knee for that. Or go full length. The Grateful Dead have never suffered travel restrictions. Racism? Yes we, in South Africa, are cemeteries ahead of the rest of the world with our DEE practices (Dead Employment Equity). It's been reported that dead people have voted, drawn salaries and won tenders. Proud to be South African. Let's just fix the travel thing.

 

I will notify you when I am ready to rejoin the living. Assuming, of course, that the rehearsal doesn't transition  into opening night in the interim. 

Yours in the struggle for some peace, if not in life, at least in temporary death.

Richard 

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Revolutionary

Dear Revolutionaries, Populists and Assorted Politicians  

Like you, I am deeply interested in revolution and the sweet, succulent fruits thereof.

I recently came across some truly revolutionary concepts,  which my revolutionary fervour compels me, dear comrades, to share forthwith. After all, an epiphany for one is an epiphany for all. 

You may well be unfamiliar with these, so I plundered the Oxford and Cambridge for definitions. The sloganeering and placard waving is all rather old school. And, let's face it, as ineffectual as urinating in a howling gale. This is cutting edge without actually cutting anyone. Much as one hates to admit it, many of the revolutions, to which you look, have had less than stellar outcomes. I think it was the poet Ernesto Cardenal, himself a real revolutionary, who wrote of the horns on the revolutionary beast evolving into dictators. Of course, some of us will never accept the capitalist fables about failed revolutionary states. Go to any of the model states and see the sheen of joy and optimism in the eyes of the citizens as they gleefully queue for bread.  Hang onto the dream - even if it becomes a nightmare for others. 

But, to business. Hold onto your stylish, South American, revolutionary headgear for just a few of these startlingly revolutionary concepts:

Service: the action of helping or doing work for someone.

Competence: the ability to do something successfully or efficiently.

Statesmanship:   the ability or practice  of a statesman, wisdom and skill in the management of public affairs

Humility:  the quality or state of not thinking you are better than other people; freedom from pride or arrogance 

Humanity: the quality of being humane; benevolence.

It may be that an absence of some of these causes the seeds of dictatorship to germinate out of the revolutionary soil. But that's for the scholars. 

As you gleefully embrace this novel approach, don't feel obliged to thank me. Anything for the Cause.

Some struggle to process this stuff. That's the problem with counter-revolutionaries. So conservative.

Yours in revolutionary fervour.

Richard

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Now You See Me

 Out of South Africa, always some comic relief.

'Two suspected criminals, who were carrying muti they believed would make them invisible while stealing from supermarkets, were caught by members of the Reaction Unit South Africa on Sunday.' | @WitnessKZN 

Dear  Suspected Criminals 

Three times thank you:

1. For one of the heartiest laughs I've had in a long time. Rivalled some of the Zondo Commission sittings, Mr Zuma's philosophical musings and Ms Mbete's Al Jazeera special.

2. For proving again that no matter how bad a day one's having, someone's having a worse one.

3. For confirming for me that I am not the dumbest person in South Africa.

The quest for invisibility is not new in South Africa. Politicians were quite successful during the July unrest. Councillors have mastered it between  elections. Mr Cele's had mixed results. I don't know of anyone who's pulled it off in your line of work.

Dear SCs, there are some technical questions begging to be asked:

1. Did you sanitize at the entrance? That would have been a significant clue. Did invisibility kick in only once you were strolling down the aisles?

2. Did people avoid walking into you? That might just possibly have told you something. Or did they bump into you occasionally?

3. We've heard of products flying off the shelves, but how did you plan on dealing with the reactions of shoppers?

4. Were your clothes included in the invisibility cover or were you planning a Capitec approach? Come to think of it, that may explain the nude romp by the lady ìn that bank.

5. Why did you not perform a simple test first? For example, find a suitable person and administer a resounding klap. Their response would have told you all you needed to know.

These questions are, of course, in the interests of scientific research. Also, to assist others who may want to do an alternative trolley dash at, say, Game, or other great retailers. Please respond when your busy schedule permits.

I do hope that you find your muti supplier, after an appropriate period of reflection and meditation. He owes you, at the very least, an explanation. Unless, of course, he has perfected the formula by then.

Yours in the grail-like quest for invisibility.

Richard

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Politically Incorrect

 Dear Fellow South Africans 

I have a cynical friend. He said recently that our election results were the equivalent of the Romans voting the barbarians in - time and again.

Ridiculous, right? I mean, barbarians loot, pillage, rape and murder, among other time-honoured pastimes. You don't see any of that, do you? I'm considering cutting ties with him. He's so politically incorrect. Just as I've cut ties with Rupertists, Gordhanists, Stratcommies, WMC puppets (indeed, all puppets, including Chester Missing), counter-revolutionaries and 1652 settlers.

He said that many South Africans are like groupies for Darth Vader, the Joker and Leatherface (something to do with chainsaws and forestry in Texas). As I don't watch soapies, I had no idea what he was talking about. It was like being at a political rally. Far removed from reality.

He went on to say (between my stifled yawns), that we have a trash wish. We will not be content until we hit the slimy bottom of the trash heap (probably just below Zimbabwe). I was rather hurt, as I have good friends in Zanu PF. We are, said he, like a poorer version of Bafana Bafana: comfortable with losing, refusing to learn, passionate about mediocrity.

Being of a cheery, optimistic disposition, I could listen no more. I tuned in to Uyajola for some uplifting content. Some people are unbelievably pessimistic. We have Msholozi, Carl, Dr Ace, Julius, Hlaudi, Mr Manyi, the two Andiles and many other heroes. What could possibly go wrong?

Yours in the struggle for...something.

Richard 

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This Present Darkness

 Dear Fellow South Africans 

How's that for a perfect metaphor?  We vote. The lights go out.

On the subject of darkness, we really ought to have cleared up some superstitions long ago. 

1. There is no better devil, no matter how well you think you know him. Devils do what devils do. Your butt is not exempt from roasting because you feel some kinship. 

2. Wolves do not lose their taste for mutton. Their howls of remorse only drown the noise of the rumbling of their cavernous bellies.

3. What politicians say means less than a 'whisper from the buttocks' (French journalist). Deeds, not words  / Ditiro eseng mafoko (school motto).

4. Even great captains suffer catastrophic shipwreck when the crews are woefully inept.

5. The contracts that you sign with the devil are worth less than the used scraps you sign them on. That's a pathetic way to sell your soul.

6. No matter how inflated with wind the clichès, platitudes and slogans are, they have never filled a belly.

7. X does mark the spot. It may well mark the spot where we buried South Africa.

8. And as we shuffle on post-elections, for bullies in politics and government, as elsewhere, silence means hearty consent.

Yours in both hope and the weariness that comes with dreary inevitability.

Richard

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Heroic Vote Count

 Apologies to Sir Henry Newbolt

There's a breathless hush in the hall to-night

Ten to make and the wards to win

A rock-hard chair and a blinding  screen,

An hour to wait, and the last votes in.

And it's all for the sake of a mayoral chain.

And the desperate hope of a season's seat,

But his comrade's hand on his shoulder smote

"Stay up! Stay up! And watch the count!"

The face of the map is sodden red

 Red  with the wreck of 

campaigns that broke 

The voting's done and the wards are gone,

And the comrades blind with dust and smoke.

The river of gatvol has brimmed its banks,

Uhuru's far and Long Live a name,

But the voice of a comrade rallies the ranks-

"Stay up! Stay up! And watch the count!"

This is the word that each five years,

While in her mould the party's  set,

Every one of her sons must hear,

And none that hears it dare have doubt.

This they all with focused mind

Must bear through life like a plaque in flame,

failing fling to the cadre behind-

"Stay up! Stay up! And watch the count!"

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