Gas

 Dear ANC

Isn't it heartwarming when politicians practise what they preach? Your righteously indignant rebuke to the cynical, uncaring Nationalist Party back in 1993:

“The ill-considered and uncaring decision to increase the petrol price only confirms the NP government does not have the interests of the majority of South Africans, who are poor and struggling desperately to make ends meet, at heart. If the government persists in pressing ahead with these indefensible price hikes, they will be inviting a similar reaction to that when VAT was increased. Now is the time for them to establish the tradition of a government that cares for and consults with its citizens”. [16 September 1993; ANC Statement;

You embody and personify the tradition of a government that cares for and consults with its people. I'm not sure how much more caring South Africans can take. It's overwhelming.  I missed the extensive consultation  that preceded the series of fuel increases you have blessed us with. My fault. 

An ANC luminary once spoke of drinking champagne on behalf of the  people.  A  piece of oratory worthy of Shakespeare. Clearly, you also eat on our behalf . Judging by the many well toned bodies on prominent display , you do a damned good job. We are gratified. You give new meaning to the notion of a well-rounded team of ministers and MPs. You put the statue of David to shame.

At the rate that you are implementing fuel increases (in the interests of the majority of South Africans, one assumes), you will soon also have to drive on behalf of the people. Or are you doing that already? And a damned good job you are doing there too: blue lights flashing as you careen down the freeways on the way to history-making meetings and conferences. It's good to see that your accompanying bodyguards are ready to avert threats from lunatics who may be triggered by your enlightened initiatives.

We hear much of the harmful emissions threatening  our planet. But little of the noisome flatulence of corpulent politicians that threatens our country.

Yours in the struggle to serve with honour and compassion.

Richard

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The Silence Of The Wolves

Dear South African Politicians 

It's unnerving when you are so quiet.

There's a fearful waiting for the other jackboot to drop.

I'm sure you know the Afrikaans saying: 'Stille water, diepe grond

Onder draai die duiwel rond'.

Mr Malema bounced from the school grounds to the international stage with a fiery attack on France. Macron is still recovering from a nervous breakdown. I bet Boris Johnson  and Joe Biden are quaking, as they wonder who's next. Go for it, sir. The old age homes can wait. You should also have a go at Ukraine for deliberately getting in the way of Russian tanks. The bloody cheek of it.

Mr Mthethwa, with the brilliance of a dying supernova, flagged the need for an inspirational monument. That doesn't seem to be working, May I suggest something that we can all solidly identify with? Something that truly captures and memorializes our struggles, in recent times, to be free.  I propose a gigantic pit toilet monument, with an honour guard of terracotta members of parliament. We could call it 'The Forbidden Privy'. Why should the Chinese have all the fun?

Please give us some forewarning of what you plan to do next. Experience tells us that it's unlikely to have us dancing in the streets (unless in protest). To allow South Africans an opportunity to fortify themselves with a stiff drink or herbal infusion of choice,  I suggest a roster along the lines of:

Tuesday: President to deliver inconsequential speech

Wednesday: Ms Duarte to make baffling pronouncement 

Thursday: ANC spokesperson to make incomprehensible speech

Friday: Mr Mantashe to attack target chosen from list below

Saturday: Open mic session featuring Mr Mbalula and others

Following week: Opportunity for all remaining MPs, provincial and municipal representatives and forgotten politicians to express horror, shock, indignation or delight, but otherwise leave no mark of their passing.

Yours in the struggle to cope.

Richard 

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The Fourth Estate, South Africa

Some time ago, there was a TV news item on the activities of Operation Dudula. Behind the anchor, in large lettering, the word XENOPHOBIA.

I foolishy thought that the business of the news media was to pursue the truth relentlessly. Audi alterem partem (hear both sides) and all that. Investigation and interview before conclusion. How singularly dull of me. I apologize. One punctuation mark would have made the difference, namely, XENOPHOBIA? Ah, these damned subtleties.

Taken alone, this little incident begs some questions. Wait, there's more. 

A reporter asks the minister of Home Affairs if he will resign, following calls from an 'anti-xenophobia' organization. In the book of Inane Questions Asked By Journalists, this one must feature as a 'gem of purest ray serene'. The minister quite rightly laughs. He briefly marvels at the level of chutzpah that makes such a call in a sovereign, foreign country. 

“When all of them are in jail‚ locked in and the keys have been thrown away‚ then I will step down — only then.”

Another link in this curious chain. The minister visits Diepsloot after the murder of a man, reportedly of Zimbabwean origin. This, according to reports, came after the  murders of seven Diepsloot residents.This peculiar exchange takes place (as reported):

Journalist: Mr Motsoaledi, do you take ownership of what has happened here in Diepsloot? Someone has died.

Mr Motsoaledi: No, Chriselda, people have died.

Curiouser and curiouser.

Are there dangers in the rise of organizations like Dudula? Let's call a spade a bloody digging implement. Yes. There are dangers, too, in a government that fails in its fundamental duties to law and order. Whose laissez faire approach to everything of importance drags their country to the edge of anarchy. There are dangers and evils in the doings of shallow news media. And news media who dance recklessly and heedlessly to to the tunes of paid pipers unknown.

Judge for yourself.

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Unflagging ANC

 Dear Mr Mthethwa

I am lost in admiration - in the archaic sense of the word: wonder, amazement. My flagging spirits revived at the news of your R22 million flag monument project.

From a news report:

The department this week made the announcement, saying it would be a “symbol of unity and national pride”. The department also said the project would inspire “social cohesion”.

I can clearly picture South Africans gazing up at the monstro..., pardon, monument, waves of national pride and currents  of social cohesion tugging at their hearts. My own  heart is already swelling with pride. It feels remarkably similar to nausea. But then these sensations can be almost indistinguishable one from another. 

As minister of Sports, Art and Culure, I imagine that the artist in you gave life to this idio...., pardon, inspirational idea. Van Gogh cut off a piece of his ear and supposedly gave it to a lady (of the night) as a token of affection. If anything proves your love for the people of South Africa, it is this thing you plan to do. I will happily suggest which  parts of your anatomy you could sever, as a grand, artistic gesture to accompany the unveiling of your flag sculpture. 

You are our own Kublai Khan. 

In Xanadu did Kubla Khan

A stately pleasure-dome decree (Coleridge)

At the rate that you and your party are innovating and creating, we will have many  Xanadus. Bullet trains, smart buildings, monuments and more. Our citizens will gaze in intense admiration  and even more intense hunger.

I am carried away on wings of awe.

Yours in the struggle to awaken the artistic soul of South Africa.

Richard

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I

Land Of The Free-For-All

 Some interesting facts about our country:

We had (perhaps, still have) a law that prohibited taking bears to the beach. Also wrestling with bears. The fact that there have been no bears in South Africa for over a million years was clearly of no consequence to the lawmakers. 

That seems to be quite in line with current political thinking too. Accentuate the antiquated. Accentuate the irrelevant. We do still indulge in bear baiting, when we flash the race card as readily as a pedantic referee flashes a yellow card. That big, old bear is going to maul some people severely someday.

We are the only country with eleven official languages. We still fail dismally at communication that edifies. The fact that we have the longest wine route in the world may add to our incoherence.  And we have our own political 'newspeak', where night is day, day is night and all is filtered through the New Dusk.

The Cradle of Humankind is a world heritage site that houses some of the oldest fossils known to mankind. It's  not unique. Some of the most fossilized thinking in the universe is housed in our political milieu and in the civil service. 

We had  the world's first heart transplant. And where are you now, Dr Chris? There are pensioners in and out of parliament that need you. And some younger ones, too.  They sit, like a choked artery, in a misty realm of glories past. Or an equally nebulous utopian future. One that will never come to be.

We have the highest commercial  bungee jump in the world. Quite appropriate. We are a nation constantly poised on the edge, not sure whether the rope will hold.

We are the only country in the world with two Nobel prize winners from one street. We are the only country in the world with so many prize clowns from the same political streets. 

A law that has been removed from the books is one that required taxi drivers to wear a white coat. We should have kept that law. There are many minibus taxi drivers that would look at home in a straitjacket.

 

The fascinating Land of the Free-For-All.

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What's Gone Wrong?

Still when I think of the road we're travelling on,

I wonder what's gone wrong,

I can't help it,

I wonder what has gone wrong.

Simon and Garfunkel 

 

A high school student stabs another.  In a fight that started over a cigarette.

Protests over racism erupt. The school comes to a standstill. Anxious parents fetch their children and agonize over what's going on. And so, in South Africa, we pile misery upon misery. 

Normal people do what needs to be done to restore peace and normality. We love to stoke the fires that are consuming our country.

We should be dismayed that violence flares up so easily in our country. That kids in South Africa are not looking for that better, brighter world.  We should be troubled that parenting is failing and the village can no longer raise a child. Troubled that respect, in our land, has become a swearword. Not dancing to the tunes of further violence and hatred. And who is paying the piper?

Ah, but it's easy to be victims, not contributors. Its easy to burn but it's damned hard to build - when you're wired to burn.

At any rate, if we want to be precise with our pointless racial colour coding, it was a 'black' boy who stabbed a 'black' boy. He happened to live in a largely 'coloured' suburb, among 'coloured' people. There go the racial semantics and mathematics.

Then, the worst, in a country gone brutally insane.  A doctor, distressed beyond the describing of it, sends a voice note, pleading. She treated a young girl who had her eyes gouged out during an assault. She was not a celebrity or related to anyone famous. Just a young, South African girl. The celebrity politicians were busy elsewhere, when the police came out in numbers to guard the alleged perpetrator, being treated for a bite to his hand. The journalists, the EFF and all the vocal people, we did not hear from them. You want to be outraged? Be outraged that life is as cheap as if we manufactured it ourselves, with cheap materials and backhanders.

The corrupt, the incompetent and the buffoons in high places will go on with corruption, incompetence and what buffoons do. But you and I can longer pass by on the other side of the road. And not lose our souls. Because 'we are dying, Egypt, dying / and not expecting pardon / hardened in heart anew". And it profits nothing, even if we gain the whole world. 

And we cannot pass on without saying to the powerful who have been sowing tares of corruption, division and hatred for so long. And abdicated (shamefully) their duty to hope, kindness, courage and the vision of a better South Africa:

'Shame on you

A plague upon your houses'

'And I don't know a soul who's not been battered
I don't have a friend who feels at ease
I don't know a dream that's not been shattered or driven to its knees.'

And where shall we find hope? In the mirror. Compatriot.

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