Dear Mr Zwane
I was most distressed to learn that you have been ill. My KFC bucket lay untouched for an entire five minutes, as I processed this disturbing news. After all, as our Mineral Resources Minister (and a resourceful one at that), so much depends on you. We cannot afford to run short of coal from the family - pardon – the mines. Had you been education minister, for example, my concern would have been less intense, as that particular portfolio appears to carry less weight in South Africa.
I was therefore delighted to learn that a philanthropic family in Saxonworld (so renamed in their honour), flew you to India for the highest quality medical care. I am hugely impressed that, despite your condition, you were still able to persuade those Swiss chocolatiers to sign a pioneering mining deal. Reminds me of Sir Francis Drake: “Let’s finish the bowls then deal with the Spaniards.” Yours would be something along the lines of: “Let’s finish the deal, then deal with this wretched illness.” The heroic spirit lives on. I am not sure whether you were at death’s door at the time or merely strolling down the garden path in that general direction. I do not, of course, wish to pry into such sensitive, private information. Unlike the Saxonworld Samaritans, I do not have the necessary medical skill, knowledge or qualifications. I understand that they received a copy of the medical report and can imagine them gravely nodding as they pored over it. Doubtless they were able to assist the medical team with pearls of wisdom and knowledge. i
The concern and compassion of these worthies cannot go unmentioned. A gravely ill man cannot be exposed to the rigours of commercial first or business class. Who knows how much the private flight and five star accommodation contributed to your recovery. You have recovered, I trust?
It is most unfortunate that you were later visited by that dreaded affliction that discomforts so many of us. I refer to the atypical transient global amnesia of which I wrote to Mr Koko (cannot remember which year), a fellow sufferer. It seems that all memory of your happy dealings with the Saxonworld folk was erased from your memory by this vile scourge of people in responsible positions. While I empathize, I am also grateful that once more, evidence of this elephant in the room, or in the consulting room, has surfaced. When, oh when, will the medical fraternity awake to this dire threat to mental health?
In partial answer to that smouldering question, I have decided to gird the relevant loins and step up to the wicket. My research has shown that a llama in a remote part of remote Tibet has stumbled upon an ancient herbal cure (marijuana afforded only temporary relief). I am willing to be a guinea pig in the fight against this pandemic in the making. I will soon launch an appeal for travel funds. Business class and Holiday Inn will suffice. As healthy nutrition is an important part of the recovery process, I have secured sponsorship in kind from KFC. Tripe Are Us have followed suit. The head office of this uniquely South African franchise is outside the Bree Street taxi rank and the lively, artistic chef can be found laboring over his skottle on any afternoon. Incidentally, despite his humble surroundings, he is in contact with giants in the culinary sphere. (He once invited Paul Bocuse to be a Facebook Friend and is in his second year of waiting for a reply)
I will certainly not take sole credit (cash, yes) for the success of this mission, once accomplished. Generous South Africans will have the Nobel Prize dedicated to them. Should the Saxonworld Samaritans contribute as generously as they are said to have done to other causes, theirs will be a special mention.
Yours in the quest for mental health.
Richard
Tips for the blogger gratefully accepted
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