Seeing The Light

Dear Mr Zuma

My heartfelt thanks for your wisdom and guidance.  I was on the verge of making a terrible mistake at the polling station. 

I understand that you said that a vote for the ANC is a vote for WMC.  Now, I mistakenly thought that a vote for the DA was a vote for WMC.  Ah,  but now I see it clearly. A vote for The DA is a vote for apartheid.  Thank you for making that clear distinction. It would be a terrible thing to think that one had made one's mark for WMC only to find later that it was actually a vote for apartheid. Or vice -versa.  I wish that these political parties would make it as clear as to what we are actually voting for. 

Following the advice of Dr Ace I have managed to steer clear, to date, of voting for proxies for such sinister organizations as the CIA, who apparently also control the ANC.  For all that I know, I may well have unwittingly voted for George Soros and several other shadowy parties over the years. There is so much that we don't know. So many plots and conspiracies, so little time. For example, a plot against Mr Mashatile was recently brought to light. By Mr Mashatile.  Thanks to such Eskom-like shafts of light into the  new dusk of South African politics, we are not ignorant of the dangerous world we inhabit. Thank goodness,  Mr Zuma that you have come out of your corner for another round. 

This is the kind of clarity and transparency that we have lacked in South African politics since your reluctant retirement.  My sole request  is that you now unmask the kingmakers behind all South African political parties.  I have heard, for example, unsettling   rumours that a vote for the EFF is a vote for foreign powers. Names such as Gucci and Dolce & Gabbana have been tossed around.  So stressed was I by the revelation, that I had to buy a pack of cheap cigarettes from my local spazza in order to calm down.  

Word is that you have teamed up  with passionate supporters of pan-africanism and the cause of RET. I have heard the name Liebenburg thrown around. I understand that he is a poster boy for the struggle against racism.  Apparently he was heard expounding on his enlightened philosophy in a leaked tape.  It's important to have allies with similar values as oneself. Particularly those who will not be swayed by materialistic temptations.

You reportedly said that you would die an ANC member. But you will not vote for the ANC. That does make perfect sense. After all voting and dying are two different things. Though, in South Africa, the connection can be close.

 I would also like to know whether you have now made a theological leap of change of direction. Will the ANC still  rule until the Lord returns or do you have a new revelation on this matter? Perhaps revealed to you in a troubled dream during your brief period of martyrdom in the prison in Escort. A sort of Joseph experience.  I know that having been ordained as a pastor, you are very much in touch with the spiritual realm.

Well sir, having listened to your gooseflesh-raising comeback speech, I now await with patience the further revelations that you will be blessing us with. Just as I have been waiting many a long year for the beans that you promised to spill, some time ago.

You did mention that you have been suffering from a cough or some other throat problem.  This is a concern. I suspect that this is what has kept you from attending various court hearings and other appointments. I was once troubled by a similar ailment that kept me from writing several math tests. I recommend daily doses of a heated buchu brandy,  ginger, lemon and honey mixture. Should that not do the trick, a large dose of castor oil, perhaps. It may not clear the throat but does wonders for a clogged digestive system. Beans can do that.

Yours in the struggle for truth, transparency and a seat at the groaning supper table.

Richard.

Tips for the blogger gratefully accepted 

Tymebank , South Africa  

51090259373

O Tichmann 

+27 833970723

Quality

Dear Fellow South Africans 

I agree with Mr Ramaphosa's view that we should stop bad-mouthing our country. In fact, he took the words out of my mouth as adroitly as SARS takes the bread out of my mouth. And corruption takes the peanut butter and jam.

Of course, he did not say that we should stop bad-mouthing the ANC. So here goes! Just joking.

South Africans do go on far too much about incidents of so called corruption. For example, there was a huge outcry about the R280 000 Eskom brooms, the slightly cheaper mops, quality knee-pads and flourescent lights. (Of course, one needs good knee-pads to perform the traditional obesiance to assorted politicians and SOE celebrities).

The point, dear countrymen, is that it is not all about quantity. Japan rose on a wave of quality improvement. And so do we. It is silly and absurd to assume that a R280 000 broom is for sweeping floors only. Clearly this particular broom doubles as a means of transportation. No Eskom executive need ever be late for a meeting or a bonus negotiation session.

Someone complained on X about a culvert that supposedly cost R22 million to build. It looks like a pretty straightforward job and it's none too pretty. But then, these things can be deceptive. Who knows but that there's an exquisite, subtle, artistic tribute here to Hamas tunnel and culvert workmanship elsewhere. What with our being on such comradely terms. 

It's possible that the cost has been falsified to discredit the ANC. A project of that sort is surely worth about R40 million at current BBBEE tender rates. Here's the kicker. There are allegations that the cement was not even taken out of the cement bags. The full bags were instead stacked and used like bricks. Now, steady on here chaps. Don't let bitterness and cynicism blind you to our marvellous technical advances and achievements. Have you not seen or used 'cook-in-the-bag' food products. I think that the same principle has been applied to our cement. A leap of creativity and innovation. This is a moerse Vorsprung durch Technik.

So, there you are Mr Alfred and your fellow cynics. Just as Mr Ramaphosa urged us to look at the brighter side of loadshedding (paradox though that is), so I urge you to celebrate our advances and achievements. Give credit where credit is due (of course, cash in brown envelopes and black plastic bags is preferable).

I remind you all that, to this day, only in a South African hospital can you swop dowdy hospital gowns for trendy skinny jeans. If that isn't Vorsprung, then I don't know what is.

Yours in the struggle for quality.

Richard 

Tips for the blogger gratefully accepted 

Tymebank , South Africa  

51090259373

O Tichmann 

+27 833970723

Oh Capitec, My Capitec

Dear Capitec 

Like many other pensioners, I was thrilled at the recent whopping increase of R10 on my state pension. I suspect that many tears of joy were shed countrywide.

I think that the parliamentarians, having received their own little increase, were then moved with compassion for senior citizens. What would we do without this government?

Like many other pensioners, I am constantly on the lookout for opportunities to supplement the generous government grant. I found an outfit online that paid for reviews. They paid promptly. 

My joy at this discovery was short-lived. I woke one morning, ready for another fruitful day, only to find my Capitec account studded with zeros. Three phone calls later, I was told that there had been a complaint against the company. It was designated a scam / Ponzi scheme and all accounts had been stopped. Now,  it would have been useful to have been told this upfront. I know that guessing is more fun,  but I would have thought that being number one implies excellent service, which in turn implies excellent communication. But then again, I suppose I have some outdated ideas. This is, after all, South Africa. 

The service model pioneered by our government and enthusiastically emulated by many businesses is the famous 'Bugger The Customer' model. Following the advice of your Fraud Department, I had an affidavit drawn up at the local police station. This I took to your branch and the person who attended to me assured me that it had been loaded onto your, no doubt, magnificent system. 

I was told that there would be a five-day wait while the matter was looked into. Five days came and went. I ate bread and drank water, surprisingly nutritious. (Okay, that was a slight exaggeration - I had coffee too). 

I was at your branch this morning, where a gentleman, who seemed to be rather low on energy, assisted me. Well it is Monday and 'assisted' is probably an exaggeration. You have no doubt heard of the nine wasted years. We seem to have had five wasted days. It seemed to me that the gentleman had to start the entire matter from scratch, as if nothing had happened before. Whatever good humour I had,  evaporated. Strange that. I can't imagine why. 

When he told me that he could not find the affidavit, I became slightly perturbed. On the rare occasions that that happens, I tend to make much use of the letter 'f'. This was one such occasion. I then advised the gentleman that I would be writing an article highlighting the unique approach to service at Capitec. He seemed quite unmoved. 

I did receive a message from Capitec later. I could track my enquiry by following some simple steps. It would have been useful to know this the first time round. At any rate, I followed the steps. They led to a dark, dead end. I will say this for you: when you piss people off, you go all the way. No half-measures there. South African excellence in action.

I should know by now that courtesy and service, as in government, are reserved for those with connections, money and power. I really have to do something about these absurd ideas that roll around in my head concerning respect for all and similar foolishness. As mentioned before,  if you are number one, one can't wait to meet numbers two, three etc.

Yours in the struggle to find ever-elusive  courtesy, respect,service. 

Richard.

Tips for the blogger gratefully accepted 

Capitec Bank, South Africa  

1378565477

O Tichmann 

+27 833970723

Scum

I thought that some of our politicians were the lowest form of life, until I came across the story below. 

Incidentally, I tried to find the most polite way to describe our corrupt bottom-feeders. Then I realized that this is the most polite way.

To the story. A friend is battling along on the state pension that was raised recently by a jaw-dropping ten rands. (Some pensioners wept with gratitude). 

My friend is an indefatigable battler and is constantly looking for online and other work. He was contacted on Whatsapp for online work, doing reviews. It sounded innocent enough.

"Is this legitimate", he asked, which is akin to asking many of our politicians if they lie or have 'smallanyana skeletons' in their spacious cupboards.

A few reviews later, my friend had a few rands in his account. Then he was asked to pay an amount into an account, order a specific item from a 'mall' and receive his money back plus a commission.  This twist made him uneasy but thousands of fellow workers seemed quite relaxed. He followed instructions and was paid.

Quite optimistic now, he looked at his bank account the next morning to be met by an array of zeroes. His account was frozen. Three calls later, the bank told him that the company was suspected to be a scam / Ponzi scheme. Their fraud department advised him to take an affidavit to the nearest branch outlining how he had come to work for the company.

Now if Capitec, number one bank in SA, couldn't be bothered to contact a customer up front but simply shut his account down as if he were a criminal, then one wonders what service is like at banks number two, three and so on. But service comes at a price in South Africa. Status, connections, money - without those, you are but a peasant in the eyes of many businesses and government services. Forget the flowery values statements. There is proof enough of the pudding in our encounters. 

My friend contacted the business and told them what had happened.

"Did you do something illegal?" asked the so-called assistant in an inspired burst of mingled irony and chutzpah.

"How can it be a scam if you were paid?" she asked later. 

Many South African politicians could answer that quite easily.

Like our so-called leaders, these so-called companies scam thousands of needy and desperate people. As if it were not enough that they are in a soul-destroying struggle to live. 

It takes a special kind of soullessness and ruthlessness on the part of both these members of this special Whatsapp group.

Some details for you, should you be contacted and tempted;

Initial Whatsapp contact: +1 (607) 453-8288

'Name': Sophia

'Mall': Luckyshopapp.com

Supposedly working for Google

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1378565477

O Tichmann 

+27 833970723

.

Fighters

 Dear EFF Leadership 

I was delighted to read this tweet from a knowledgeable person, acknowledging my favourite fighting outfit:

"The EFF is the ONLY organisation thinking innovatively about a REAL transition towards equality and economic development."

As if to underline the words of the oracle, the next tweet reported a knock-down, drag-out brawl at an Ethekwini council meeting. Your councillors participated with great gusto. I like your cutting-edge approach to 'thinking innovatively about a real transition towards equality and 

economic development'. Nothing like split lips, cut cheeks and bleeding noses to speed transformation along. And, of course, a barroom-style brawl is a great leveller. Historical advantage and disadvantage count for nothing. It's all about speed and power.

On that note and with the greatest respect, a careful review of the otherwise inspirational video highlighted several challenges. While one cannot fault the enthusiasm of your ground forces, conditioning and technique require urgent attention.

As a martial arts enthusiast, I once more offer my coaching services at normal tender rates (various discounted packages included). It is obvious to even the most casual observer that a couple of well directed mae geri and mawashi geri kicks would have settled the issue speedily and efficiently. I am sure that Treasury would have been moved to return the 1.2 billion returned to them, instead of being spent on infrastructure.

Instead, we were treated to the embarrassing spectacle of your gallant fighters floundering like stranded whales (meant only figuratively).

I understand your indignation. Although the EFF reportedly chairs the infrastructure committee, we all know how easy it is for the odd billion to slip by. I once missed a R50 surplus on my budget. This is particularly true when such weighty matters as marches, boycotts, protests and occasional MMA encounters also demand your attention.

I don't blame you for allegedly blaming the city manager. Is it a DA person again?

At any rate, it certainly doesn't get more innovative than a good ol' skop, skiet en donner in the council chambers. Now why didn't we think of that before? I'm convinced that the poor and the disadvantaged would have been impressed, inspired and in deeper doo...oops, sorry, it's the damned autocorrect.

With this inspired approach to South Africa's many weighty challenges, we may bruise but how can we lose? 

My confidence is at an all-time high.

Yours in the fierce scuffle for transformation and economic freedom.

Richard 

Tips for the blogger gratefully accepted 

Capitec Bank, South Africa  

1378565477

O Tichmann 

+27 833970723

Field of Dreams

Dear South African Politicians 

There is a broader truth to this verse, quite apart from the context in 'A Midsummer Night's Dream':

"We are such stuff as dreams are made on..." 

You politicians do not understand that. Rassie Erasmus, Siya Kolisi and the Springbok rugby team do.  How, then, can you lead a country hungry for significance and success?

You  showed up at the final for photo opportunities (and perhaps other opportunities). Siya and his men showed up week after week for their country. For us. So did every South African whose heart beat, raced and skipped a beat with every eighty minutes played. 

You do not understand what happened on Saturday night. You see, the All Blacks, worthy opponents that they were, were only the personification of our real opposition:  the division that you have sown in our country, the hatred, the racism. The lie that we are not a  nation worthy of your best efforts. That we are not to hope and dream as other people do. But only with your permission and approval. That we are to stay within the dark, narrow lanes of your stunted imagination.

But on the field of dreams, our team kept alive our bruised, battered hopes and dreams.  We so desperately had to win. We were a people perishing for want of vision, as the Good Book says.

You do not understand the heart of South Africa. We love our country. We love our people. Even when there are times that we may not like one another. How could you understand that when  you dwell  in the dark places of selfishness, self-centredness, greed and a ravening hunger for power? Are these not the parents of that hideous progeny  called State Capture, conceived in the heat of such lusts? The heart is first captured. When you had given your hearts over to lust, how could you do otherwise?

“This team just shows what you can do. As soon as we work together, all is possible, no matter in what sphere – in the field, in offices, it shows what we can do..."

So said captain, Siya Kholisi.

Is this what you politicians fear? 

Kholisi went on to say something to the effect that we need to take this spirit and belief beyond the rugby field. 

So, to every opportunistic, greedy, power hungry politician and all your cronies,  South Africa says VOETSEK. We don't need you. 

ANC, EFF and the rest: eff you very much.

We are South Africa.

Yours in the real struggle.

Richard 

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Capitec Bank, South Africa  

1378565477

O Tichmann 

+27 833970723

 

Earth to Home Affairs

 Dear Home Affairs Management. 

This is a matter of utmost urgency and importance.

Please investigate without delay what is going on in the Northern Cape.

In the town of Postmasburg I visited your offices to try once more to get my hands on that much desired document,  a South African identity document. Having failed four times in Durban,  I was not exactly filled with hope and optimism. 

The first clue that something strange is going on here was the absence of a fierce,  jail warden-type security guard at the entrance. I was puzzled. This was not the Home Affairs that I have come to know and love.

Also absent were the rat-like characters scurrying around, offering places in the queue for a fee, or offering expensive ID photographs. Bigger shocks were yet to come. The offices were clean, orderly and very well signposted. Although I had brought my shaving kit along, I did not need it, as I was inside the building within a very short time.

Of course, in Durban I merely glimpsed the shadowy, mysterious interior from my position in the queue outside. The joy and honour of actually entering were not to be mine on the four occasions that I spent an enjoyable day at your premises.

Service in Postmasburg was efficient, polite and even friendly. In truth, it was real service. The sight of a South African civil servant smiling is rather disconcerting, when one has never seen it before. I thought for a moment that I had said something hilariously wrong. I fully expected Leon Schuster  or someone else  to step up and say:

 "The joke's on you . There's a camera there and another one over there. You didn't really think this was a Home Affairs office, did you? Ha, ha, ha." 

Backslapping and embarrassed grins.

I applied for and received my smart, new identity document in about two weeks. I had spent fewer than two hours in total at the Home Affairs offices. The experience was so unsettling that I had to lie down for two hours after. 

Surely this is not the South African way. I think that you ought to send inspectors to the department here. Surely you cannot allow such a flagrant disregard of organisational culture to flourish. Who knows but that South Africans will be expecting and demanding civil and efficient service from government next. Perhaps even honesty and ethical behaviour. Lord forbid. What kind of society will we have if you folks are deprived of your feudal rights to lord it over the peasants like yours truly? Where will be the grimy, chaotic South Africa that we have come to know and enfold in our hearts?

Please act swiftly. Our very way of life is in peril.

Yours in the struggle to preserve the old ways.

Richard 

Tips for the blogger gratefully accepted 

Capitec Bank, South Africa  

1378565477

O Tichmann 

+27 833970723

Bananas

 Reports of corruption, incompetence and buffoonery dominate the news.

It was good to read a tweet on something completely different: the struggle against banana abuse.

Apparently, a deputy minister valiantly defended his fruit bowl from an audacious banana raid. That is his version of events. The other party involved reportedly claimed that he was defending his own fruit bowl from a similar onslaught. One hopes that the layers of this banana saga will be peeled away.

The tweet:

"The complainant - a 33-year old male parliamentary staffer, alleges that deputy minister, Cde Dr Sibongiseni Dhlomo inappropriately touched his genitals before trying to push him onto his bed. 

Dhlomo, in turn, counterclaims that the man invaded his space & “took a banana” from his fruit basket without permission before he chased him away..."

I was surprised to read of 'inappropriate' touching of genitals, as I was unaware that an appropriate option exists. Perhaps that is why Mr Malema boldly spoke of having parliamentarians by the scrotum. 

Dr Dhiomo is a medical doctor and deputy minister of health. He was born in uMbumbulu on the KZN South Coast. This explains several things. Bananas are important to the economy of the South Coast. As a health expert, the good doctor knows  how important bananas are in improving the immune system and reducing the risk of disease, among others. It follows that he would repel any raids with commendable vigour and every means at his disposal. That need not exclude pushing aspiring raiders onto beds. Being from KZN myself, I imagine that the doctor's technique was refined by having to repel those impertinent coastal monkeys from time to time. 

It was prudent of the gentleman not to take the invasion of his space lying down. I am sure that from such seemingly small incidents are such things as land invasions born. Go back into Putin's history. I guarantee you that you will find a trail of space invasion and  banana snatching. Probably from an early age. Left unchecked, look where it has got us to! 

Of course there is the alternative  version that suggests that bananas were the last thing on the deputy minister's mind. Sigh! This promises to be as difficult to prove or disprove as an allegation involving masseurs and ministers (just plucked that one at random from my fertile, fevered imagination).

One can but hope that before it all went banana shaped, the meeting was fruitful.

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1378565477

O Tichmann

+27 833970723

Ubuntu

I needed to travel to the Northern Cape. At one of our retail giants, I enquired about ticket prices and travel dates. "No", said the helpful assistant. "We do not give senior citizen discounts". Disappointing, but there it was.

 I returned a few days later to buy  tickets for a two stage journey. A different helpful assistant was behind the counter. The ticket price had gone up by R200, which I thought was rather dramatic for an interval of a few days. However, this particular assistant did give senior citizen discounts. So all was well that ended well - that far. 

No sooner had I purchased my tickets, than I received SMS's from the bus companies advising that my journey would be cancelled if I did not pay up within the specified.time A little bizarre, as simple logic would suggest that I could not be holding two tickets in my grubby hands had I not paid for them.

Thus began the joyous game of "all our lines are busy, please be patient". After the customer service person had blamed the retail giant for an unfortunate misunderstanding, we parted good friends, promising to meet up for tea at some time on the future.

The next challenge was that my pick up instructions for the first stage of the journey were somewhat confusing. They read something like:

'Pick up at Caltex service station drop off JTV'. Several possibilities suggested themselves. Would they pick me up and then drop me off a few hundred metres  down the road, just to add a fun element to the trip? Was this perhaps a game of 'choose your favourite pick up point'? I called,  just for the heck of it. After we had confirmed which of the two points was the pickup point, I pointed out to the service person that this was rather confusing. For example, why mention 'drop off' when all that I needed was to be picked up. We then had a slightly heated discussion. The essence of her argument was 'This Is How We Do It and it would be terribly inconvenient to do it any other way'. The essence of my argument was 'I am the customer.  I need clarity and not to be left clutching my luggage and scratching my head at the wrong rendezvous'. The service person terminated the conversation with what a suspicious person might have considered huffy abruptness. I am not suspicious. I do understand that we customers need to be more considerate and not disturb the even tenor of the lives of our suppliers.

I had made a similar trip from Durban station more than two years ago.  The escalators were not working then. They were not working now. Our guys are consistent. Few things in this life equal the joy of lugging suitcases and bags up two dead escalators.  A large, cheery sign greeted me at the top  'PRASA Welcomes You To The Future'. I looked around the dark, malodorous station with its indoor potholes. Would that future involve a zombie apocalypse, then? The place certainly looked like the set of the movie.

At the set time  of  the rumbling stomach,  I visited a fish shop which sold  everything except fish. It turned out that the shop had changed hands but the effort of removing references to  fish had proved too much for the new owner, exhausted from the Herculean labours of wheeling and dealing. Perfectly understandable. 

There was a sign in the shop announcing that cellphones would no longer be  charged because of the misbehaviour of customers. I felt the guilt of my entire race descend upon me - the race of customers with a penchant for misbehaviour.

Anyway, the bus itself was bound to be an improvement. The driver sternly warned us that we were on no account to leave the bus unless he expressly announced that we may do so at a rest stop. Suitably chastened,  we paid attention. He went on to say that the toilets were for Number One only and that Number Two would require special arrangements.  He mumbled something about the bush which I didn't  perfectly catch. I have always been confused about what exactly each of those numbers represents. I was not about to display my ignorance of that most basic of life skills to a bus full of strangers.

The bus  just managed to cross the discomfort to comfort divide. There were minor challenges  - cellphone charging ports not working, no water in the Number One toilet. Little things that shouldn't trouble the reasonable traveller who enjoys eating with unwashed hands after a bit of number one.

And that's how we roll (downhill) in South Africa, customer service excellence and Ubuntu our rallying cry.

I suppose one might summarize it along these lines:

1. Both government and large swathes of the private sector live by the dictum that South Africans are not deserving of their best (or even moderate) efforts. Ubuntu is cunningly hidden and disguised.

2. Customers are too weary or pessimistic or cynical to demand better for their taxes and rands.

No real surprise. We have been fed mouthfuls of this manure for years by a corrupt, callous govt that thinks it proper to raise pensions by R10. Their own increases, of course, commensurate with the value that they add.

Viva New Dawn, Seven Pillars, Ubuntu and all the other inspirational stuff.

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1378565477

O Tichmann 

+27 833970723

Border Control

The ANC's tame channel gave hours of 'news' to the introduction of border control guards.  Obviously almost as important and newsworthy as assorted funerals and ANC conferences.

Now  that the horses have bolted and are spraying dung all over the country, our ever-proactive government tries to lock the stable door. Why does the ANC celebrate things that they should have done long ago and done much better? If (eventually) doing parts of your job is cause for celebration,  then we've all been short-changed on the pomp and ceremony.

The ANC's passion for border control and law and order does seem to have been cleverly disguised up to now. A cynical friend says that it's just possible that  this initiative may have a tenuous link to upcoming elections. 'Huh?' I responded.  I cannot understand the cynicism of some of my friends. What has the ANC not done...., pardon, done to deserve it? We may not have electricity but we have a minister. I think that we even have ministers of intelligence.

We may not have water but we have new taps, as an ANC worthy wittily pointed out.

People have been warning about the porous border problem for a long time. One thing about the ANC, they do catch on eventually. They've caught on recently to how apartheid is still on the rampage and making them look bad.

Another cynical friend warns not to expect too much from the border conrol initiative. We know, says he,  that whatever our efficient govt touches turns into compost. I think that's harsh. Compost is useful.

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Capitec Bank, South Africa  

1378565477

O Tichmann 

+27 833970723

Delusions of Normality

Doctor, I'm being plagued by the most awful nightmares imaginable.

And how does that make you feel?

Clammy, sweaty, frightened and with a vast emptiness in my soul.

The soul is a construct we shall examine in the next session. But tell me about these dreams.

Well, Doctor, it's night after night and there are so many. Just last night, I dreamt that my call to the SASSA helpline went through in ten minutes and the service was excellent.

Doctor shakes his head, a frown gathering on his large, intelligent forehead.

Then there was the one in which I was able to make an online booking at Home Affairs. I breezed in and out in two hours.

Hmmm!

What does that mean, hmmm? That sounds bad.

There, there, calm yourself. Breathe deeply and think of the Springboks. Go on.

There was the one in which taxes, petrol and food prices were lowered because the deadwood and thieves in politics had been removed and vast sums of public money recovered.

Sweat gathers on patient's brow. His hands and voice tremble.

Then, I dreamt -  a stifled sob - that it was 2025. The ANC had been thrashed at the polls, gone into exile in Limpopo and the Eastern Cape. The EFF had reinvented itself as an off-the-wall comedy show and there were even a few signs of normality and commmonsense returning in South Africa. Oh, God!

Buries his face in his hands, shoulders shaken by great, uncontrollable sobs.

The doctor presses a glass of rare Joburg water on him and a box of tissues made in China.

Do you actually expect any of these things to happen?

A shake of the head and another wipe with the tissues.

Then we're not so far gone that what you have can't be easily remedied. Wahnvorstellungen, Delusions of Normality, first identified by Erich von Strumpfnagel during the Hitler years. A condition affecting those who fail to understand and accept that the inmates have been running the institution for some time. Spend a few days in the Eastern Cape, Limpopo and at Home Affairs. I can guarantee you that not a single illusion will remain to haunt you.

Oh, Doctor, how can I thank you?

By paying cash. SARS is disembowelling me.

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1378565477

O Tichmann 

+27 833970723

The MTN Maze

Dear MTN

Please let us have your correct customer service number. Each time I call 135, I get through to a circus. And it's not even  entertaining.

You remind me so of Mr Zuma at his scintillating best. Just like his "Listen carefully", your "Please pay attention to our menu items" is followed by the purest gobbledygook available on the planet.

I am not interested in mobile money or any of the other treasures on offer. I just so desperately want to ask a breathing human being why the internet is suddenly not available, even after one of your technicians 'fixed' the problem for a few hours. That option (human conversation) is not on the menu, as far as I can discern.

Your recorded message tells me that you are improving your IVR (or something) - an automated service that I landed up at every time, regardless of menu choice. This would happen after a mind-bending journey through many-layered, intriguing but useless menu options. Why don't you just improve your service, period? You do realize that these Monty Python experiences are what send people postal or into institutions.

I eventually chose the fraud option and got to speak to a human being. At least, I think she was human. I asked her how one gets to speak to a human at MTN. "Dial 0 after 135". Why not include that among the menu items? Of course, it didn't work, but took me, to my delight, back into the mysterious MTN maze.

As your service seems to be based on the government model, let me quote:

"Consistent energy availability will ultimately lead to the end of loadshedding"

Well, consistent internet availability will ultimately lead to the end of frustration. 

The same message to you, as to our caring government departments. We are customers, not supplicants at your temples of indifference, inefficiency and buffoonery.

A postscript: many calls later, I was informed that there had been an unauthorized intrusion at a nearby tower. I was relieved that it was not an authorized intrusion. It would have been helpful to know that sooner, instead of fiddling around. But then again, I suppose  technicians work in mysterious ways. As, it seems, do our service providers. Incidentally, the problem is not a major one, I was told. That would explain why it's for only two days that I don't have internet. I imagine that we'd be looking at two years for a major problem.

Yours in the struggle to find real service.

Richard 

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Always Look on the Bright Side of Life

Dear Mr Ramaphosa 

I have begun to see loadshedding in a positive light - when there is light to see. 

Thank you for the zen-like advice.

The sublime wisdom of it lit up my inner consciousness like a battery of lights coming on after 3 hours of loadshedding, when, during a hospital visit, I overheard a man comforting his friend thus:

"Try to see this cancer in a positive light. When you die, in about six months, you will fully appreciate the new experience."

It was an Aha moment. "Aha", I cried, doing a couple of the dance steps that our electricity minister so ably demonstrated.  With the dawn of understanding, came many new insights.

I now fully understand the 'you may not have water, but at least you have taps' conundrum. I also see corruption and incompetence in a positive light. What fun we will have reminiscing, once you comrades have ridden off into the new dusk.

"Remember the skinny jeans for sutures saga? Ha, ha, ha."

"What about the statues and the Anglo-Boer War spirits in KZN. Tee, hee, hee."

"And the stuff that Apartheid used to do, burning buildings, stealing, stuffing up everything available for upstuffery. Ho, ho, ho."

"Oh, you're killing me! Covid and flood relief funds vanishing like Tokyo's trillions and the decuplets. Heh, heh, heh."

At these and other comforting thoughts, frustration vanished, replaced by joy, then something approaching ecstasy. Wait, that might have come from the puff of zol I'd taken in desperation, just before I heard your life-changing advice. 

I am drawn to the Eastern mysticism of this philosophical approach. Now, all I have to do is to find a way to view rampant crime in a positive light. But I'm sure that Mr Cele and various think tanks and commissions are hard at work. I fully expect that I shall soon see the sunny side of those murder and robbery statistics. 

I am so glad that the noise of generators in parliamentary villages and elsewhere has not distracted you comrades from this sort of strategic, nation-building thinking.

Yours in the struggle to always look on the bright side of life, accentuate the positive, stop to smell the sewa..., sorry, roses. Long live ANC, till 2024.

Richard 

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Again Apartheid

Dear Ms Zulu

I know that you have been totally engrossed in the grim, fierce battle against Apartheid, who reportedly set a building on fire in Johannesburg. 

You may not be aware that our pensions were not paid out yesterday, as promised. The reasons are as yet obscure.  Still, one does not need the sleuthing skills of a Sherlock Holmes. Nor does one need the finely honed deductive and logical skills of a deployed ANC cadre. There can be only one culprit, the aforesaid, rotten, racist villain, Apartheid. Aided and abetted, no doubt by White Monopoly Capital and van Riebeeck.

And, as in a good Sherlock Holmes novel, the plot thickened substantially. I began to write this friendly letter while queuing at a Capitec ATM. On inserting my trusty SASSA card, hope blossoming in my bosom, I received a printout with the glad news that there were indeed funds available  - a quarter of my pension. Apartheid had struck again. This is the second time that the villainous bastard has dipped his dirty hands into my pension money. Gas explosions, fires, theft, fraud, buffoonery, incompetence  - is there nothing that the swine will not stoop to? 

Ah well, here we go again. Up at three a.m. tomorrow to queue all day at SASSA. Then the delightful repartee, as I'm given a dozen reasons that my stolen pension cannot simply be refunded. Complicating matters is my failure to replace my lost identity document after only four futile visits to that bastion of post-apartheid excellence, Home Affairs. My own fault. I should have awoken at one a.m., not two a.m.  Apartheid is making our lives miserable.

Dr Google notes that you are a communication strategist, Ms Zulu. Your communication strategy during this little episode has been nothing if not interesting. Actually, it's been nothing.

I notice that all you comrades have synchronized your anti-apartheid watches and have been speaking, lately, with one voice against the damned villain. I now understand the significance of my dream of two days ago. I was in a savage battle with a fellow with the build of a rugby lock, wearing a 'Whites Only' tee-shirt. The meaning is clear: Apartheid is on the rampage. Thank goodness for you comrades.

Yours in the climactic struggle against Apartheid.

Richard 

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Struggle Songs

 When you ANC grootmense sing for your suppers, you do sing in harmony.

Your songsheet changed recently from 'xenophobia bad' to 'illegal immigration worse' a la Animal Farm 2023. A subtle lift of the conductor's baton and the altos and sopranos  soared gloriously in perfect harmony; Mr Ramaphosa's somewhat muffled, mumbled warbling,  Mr Mbalula's glass-shattering high notes, Ms Zulu's rather off-key contribution and the rest of the choir chiming in enthusiastically.

Of course, there's five more years worth of suppers to sing for. Who wouldn't pluck those vocal chords fot all they are worth? The apartheid song, like so many witless, lightweight pop songs, has been overplayed,  familiarity breeding scathing contempt. The choir sounds cracked, strained and reedy as it struggles to wring some meaning from badly dated, nonsensical lyrics. You need to plump up your repertoire as one might plump up a threadbare sofa with, say, dollar bills.

Though the  apartheid song has a nice 'one Scheiss fits all occasions' quality, you need to add old favourites such as such as Dis 'n Lekker Ou Jan van Riebeeck, The Damned Dutch East India Company, Send Out The Colonialists.

Let's not forget the newer ballads, recounting the vile deeds of spirits of Boer and English soldiers in KZN.

Let's not omit the machinations and depradations of White Monopoly Capital, Bill Gates, George Soros, the Stellenbosch Mafia, the White Privileged Ones. Apologies to anyone I've omitted. 

We will probably be forced to listen to more of your caterwauling post 2024. How good it would be to say:

'The song is ended though the malady lingers on.'

Oh, you might also like Money Makes The World Go Round, from Cabaret, Drink, Drink, Drink, from The Student Prince and Food, Glorious Food, from Oliver.

Happy singing.

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Chandon se Moer

Dear Patriotic Alliance People 

Good to see another party drinking champagne with our lips (as the ANC once did). This at a recent Johannesburg Roads Agency shindig. (They still have them - roads?).

The Moèt and Chandon flowed like the Tugela on its way to the ocean. There was a garbled speech about the pronunciation of Moèt. It would have been enough to say: "As ons moet drink, dan drink ons Moèt." It was the kind of mindless drivel that draws rapturous applause from those who are on a mystical plane - somewhere below see level.  A subterranean stage of mindlessness, similar to the raptures experienced  by those who yelled "hoor  hoor" to Nationalist Party gibberish. And to think that people spend years in remote caves trying to attain that state. Of course, many of our politicians might as well have been living in caves, remote from the realities of a country crumbling into compost.

Please remind us whether you were celebrating sewage in the streets, sewage that passes for service or the sewage that issues forth from various party mouths. I am not referring to the gentleman who answered a relevant question with "You stupid, racist white man." With a mouth like that, seemingly unhampered by moving parts in the brain, the stupidity of other people would be the least of my  concerns.

I like you politicians' single-mindedness . It's a wonderful "carry on regardless" approach to decay, disaster and doom. Reminds one of the old: 'come snow, come hail, nothing can stop the US mail' Yours is more like "come mud, come rain, we are always up for more champagne." Or, expressed a little more earthily in parts of the mining industry: "kyk noord en v..k voort."  And you surely know how to celebrate. Even when, or perhaps especially when, there is, in the winsome words of a minister, fokol to celebrate. With an attitude like that, you can't lose. Even if you do, you won't notice. What with your 'altitude', way up there beyond the slaughter and the sewage, 'determining your attitude'. 

At moments like these, one feels like bursting into song. Remember 'Chanson d'Amour'? Well, 'Chandon se Moer' would be quite appropriate.

Yours in the struggle to glug it down before the party ends. And end it will.

Richard

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Law and Order I

Dear Mister Cele 

You fascinate me. 

It's the kind of fascination one has for a particularly dark, Monty Python-esque, horror comedy. 

During the recent taxi violence  you told the Cape Town City government in typically restrained, respectful and diplomatic fashion to get off their high horses and negotiate with Santaco. Perhaps they did not heed your advice because they have passed beyond the horse and horse manure era.

On the subject of equines, is it not time that you got off your high ass and did some real work that your portfolio requires? Interesting that, in the first instance, you did not address the ones doing the burning,  barricading, bullying and other barbaric stuff that we have, sadly, become quite accustomed to. But of course they have the democratic right to take a dump on the rights of others. Just thought that, as a staunch defender of the rule of law, that might have been uppermost in your mind.

Perhaps you did mention that  in your thought-provoking speech. I did not read much further. How do I put this delicately? Your speeches are generally not the stuff of inspiration and edification. I stopped there, so as not to take the edge and the piquant flavour off those first portentous lines.  If you did address the issue, please ignore relevant portions of this respectful letter.

Sir, I hope you do not interpret this as a 'talk down to the gardener' approach. As you did with Mr Ian Cameron. Even if I had a gardener (with necessary garden), we would not have this conversation. His responsibility would stop at maintenance of law and order in a small garden. Yours, I think, is law and order in a large, modern country.  Both  of which,(law and order), you might have noticed are in desperately short supply in South Africa. But then again perhaps you have been too busy jumping into various important lecturing and pontificating opportunities.

In recent news is the kafkaesque story of the whistleblower brought to court in  leg irons. Truly we have become a land of bewildering, surreal contrasts and contradictions. Whistleblowers in leg irons, whistleblowers assassinated, a murderer and rapist swanning around Sandton City, at liberty and at ease. But I suppose, sir, that you have far more important things under your hat. Let the reader speculate as to what those critically important things may be. They certainly far override such considerations as the safety of South Africans, some semblance of Law and Order and even a modicum of sanity.

Perhaps one might humbly ask, without resorting to gardener type patronizing, a few questions. 

It would be mildly interesting to know the substance  of your meeting with Santaco,  before the madness.... pardon, I meant to say, the exercise of democratic rights. 

What are your views on the Whistleblower Saga which reflects a little less than brightly on your professional police force? Perhaps such matters are not for the peasants. 

Has there been any movement on the Police Intelligence quotient thermometer since the infamous kzn riots?

What is being done about the frequent reports of corruption and criminality in the ranks of the country's finest? 

To say nothing  of the avalanche of reports  of corruption and criminality  in the ranks  of the country's  politicians and officials .

Has there been any progress in addressing the dreadful malady sweeping through your forces - the sleeping-on-the-job sickness?

When do you plan on gathering the generals,  colonels,  lieutenants, captains and other grandly titled officers? I should think that you would want them to get off their high horses with some alacrity and do something about the shambles that is policing in this country. 

It does seem that your injunction to your forces that criminals should 'see you, feel, smell and taste you' has not been  obeyed. Certainly we, the citizens, can smell something. It's not good,  sir. 

To cannibalize Omar khayyàm. 

'The moving finger points and having pointed,  turns back. '

Well sir,  I am sure that you have many important lectures to give, witticisms to scatter abroad and fine philosophical gems to impart. Please do not let me interrupt your critical business,  whatever that may be. I am sure that it is no business of the ordinary non-honourable citizen in a democracy.

You still have a full year of critical ministerial work to do before you are removed.  May you then ride off into your sunset of choice on a high horse. 

Yours in the struggle to understand what the hell your performance targets and indicators  actually are (what with your not being a gardener, but THE cat in the hat).

Richard

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Guide to Negotiating With Thugs

Bheki Cele tells officials to ‘get off their high horses’ and negotiate with Santaco over taxi strike that turned violent

From a news report 

Dear Mister Cele. 

Your weird...., pardon, wisdom, never ceases to amaze me.  I am surprised that you have not been offered the chair of philosophy or criminology at some eminent university. 

The negotiation idea is brilliant.  I know from experience that it works extremely well.  I was hijacked once.  I did not have a high horse to get off,  but I got off my HiAce.  Using techniques learnt from the book 'Getting to Yes', as well as various negotiating skills training courses,  I was able to pursuade the AK-47 bearing gentlemen to shoot me once only, instead of four times.  A genuine win-win situation,  wouldn't you say? 

I see this approach working in any situation where one is faced by violent thugs or mindless lunatics.  I am sure that negotiating with a suicide bomber, for example,  would at least gain one sufficient time to say a heartfelt prayer, before departing precipitately for the 'bourn from whence no traveller returns'. 

I  trust that this is working well for you in the grim struggle against crime and violence in our land.  I should think that despite the challenges of population growth,  (which you alluded to earlier), expert negotiation is having a significant impact on the numbers of murders, rapes,  hijackings, armed robberies, daylight robberies by politicians and friends, and all the other things that make South Africa special. The thing is that many people do not realise that beneath the hard, AK-47 bearing exterior of your average thug is a very reasonable, rational and perhaps even amiable and gentle person. It is to this person that I am sure that your negotiation tactics would appeal.

I am now filled with regret at having  administered a rather vigorous kick to the loins of the last person who tried to mug me.  I so wish that I had negotiated instead.  I see us leaning against opposite, dead, street lamps in that deserted road,  diligently working on our best-case, worst-case,  likely middle- ground and best-alternative-to- negotiated-agreement scenarios.  Who knows but that the process may even have brought us closer together? Perhaps even forged a friendship. Discussing varied approaches to the gentle art of mugging over tea or a glass of red wine? Co-authoring, for posterity, a seminal work entitled 'The Compleat Mugger'? 

Sir, I don't know whether you also wagged a figurative, righteous forefinger at the protesting taxi gentlemen.   I hope that you were careful not to upset them. One knows how sensitive taxi people can be.  

Of course you are familiar with the five key principles in any conflict resolution situation. 

1. Maintain or enhance self-esteem. Example :

"Your AK-47 looks wonderfully well maintained. Good work."

2. Listen and respond with empathy.  

Example:

"Yes, it must be frustrating to be ticketed so many times for reckless driving. Those tickets do take up space in the glove compartment."

3. Asking for help and encouraging involvement.

Example:

"So how do you suggest that we ensure that all these petty, local and national road regulations don't get in the way of your all important business of serving the community and getting filthy rich?"

4. Sharing thoughts, feelings and rationale to build trust. 

Example:

"I'm going to level with you. It leaves us with a bad feeling when you piss on other people's rights and safety.  How does that make you feel?  Fokol?  Okay,  honesty is good. Facts are friendly. Let's work with that."

5. Providing support without removing responsibility to build a sense of ownership. 

Example:

"Okay,  we are happy for you to have the bus lanes and the other special lanes. But we need you to take responsibility for driving safely and within the law in those lanes.  Can we have your word on that?  We trust you to manage that as responsibly and considerately as you've managed everything else."

So there we have it - a progressive, productive, win-win situation.  The thugs win everything.  The city and  the citizens win buggerall.  Classic South African negotiating, problem-solving and conflict handling. That's the kind of thing that's made us an example to the world. We really should write the best-selling successor to 'Getting to Yes' and 'Getting Past No', namely 'Getting to Eish'.

Thought-provoking stuff, Mr Cele, deep as a zama-zama's main shaft.

Yours in the struggle for mature,  responsible,  interest-based negotiating wins. 

Richard 

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Bringing Down Gordhan

To the tune of 'Going Down Jordan'

Apologies to Harry Belafonte 

We are bringing down, Gordhan
We are bringing down, Gordhan
We are bringing down, Gordhan
Let's walk the revolution'ry road

I was livin' me life as non-partisan 
Let me tell you how I changed to an Effer man
I was livin' me life as non-partisan 
Let me tell you how I changed to an Effer man

One day I was walking down Nasrec street
Poor and hungry, no shoes on me feet
I passed a door and heard "Kill the Boer"
It was the smell of food made me look some more

We are bringing down, Gordhan
We are bringing down, Gordhan
We are bringing down, Gordhan
Let's walk the revolution'ry road

Bringing  down, Gordhan
We are  bringing down, Gordhan
We are bringing down, Gordhan
Let's walk the revolution'ry road

Bringing down, Gordhan
We are bringing down, Gordhan
We are bringing down, Gordhan
Let's walk the revolution'ry road

Well, Floyd walked up and he shook my hand
Said "I want you to be an Effer man"
Right away I made a snap decision
Me stomach was a growling for this dispensation  
I started over to get some food
When some Effers approached me in a hyped up mood
They shouted out a song 'bout four, five times
The lyrics was weird but I liked the rhymes

Singing I've got a gun in my hand
I'm going to use it well
Brr, brr, pa. pa, pa, pa
I've got a gun in my hand (Viva!)                                 I'm going to use it well

I was hoarse in me throat and I was feeling cold        But the sight of the food made me take a hold            The brothers started to dance away                              They said, "Sing, believers, dance all day"                          I sang and I danced in a new-found style                          In the meantime me taste buds was running wild            I was about to jump clear out of me seat                  When a man sprang up and said "Before you eat

You got to praise the CIC
You got to praise the CIC
And if you want a piece of heaven in this land
You got to praise the CIC

Praise the CIC
You got to praise the CIC
And if you want a piece of heaven in this land
You got to praise the CIC

Praise the CIC
You got to praise the CIC
And if you want a piece of heaven in this land
You got to praise the CIC

Well, before I joined up I had plenty pain
Now I find myself a bold man again
Well, before I joined up I had plenty pain
Now I find myself a bold man again
Don't talk 'bout the leaders, they treat me good
Plenty good marching and some good food
My brother, it was then that I realized
Every man on earth should be efferized

'Cause happy days are here again
There will be land and jobs again
Oh, let us sing our song of war again

Because we are bringing down, Gordhan
We are bringing down, Gordhan
We are bringing down, Gordhan
Let's walk the revolution'ry road

Bringing down, Gordhan
We are bringing down, Gordhan
We are bringing down, Gordhan
Let's walk the revolution'ry road

Bringing down, Gordhan
We are bringing down, Gordhan
We are bringing down, Gordhan
Let's walk the revolution'ry road

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O Tichmann 

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