Write On, Mr Zuma

Dear Mr Zuma

I have just read that you may once more take the shortest route, without passing 'Begin' or collecting R200. 

I suggest that we can squeeze this life lemon into a refreshing martini. Your creative juices are on the boil. Your first book has the critics in a Covid-like fever of excitement.  Herman Charles Bosman wrote Cold Stone Jug in a similar environment to the one you are bound for. Jeffrey Archer, too, did some fine work in the aforementioned jug. Then there was Caryl Chessman with 'The Kid Was A Killer'.  He was executed but I don't think it had to do with book quality or content. So, that's not a concern. I think that the quiet, orderly environment and the company of many creative people has much to do with it. I look forward to the pot-boiler that is sure to come. For a signed copy, I'll be happy to dig deep. (Not R1000 deep, but we can perhaps negotiate?).

Sir, you need not concern yourself about the new bull, while you are on sabbatical. Your people are used to handling lots of bull, I mean, bulls. 

 No doubt, we'll be hearing learned opinion from your supporters on how unfair this is. We will almost certainly  hear of captured courts and a captured judiciary. I understand. I have also found the law to be quite restrictive, for example, when I have felt the need to throttle the breath from a deserving person.

Sir, I suggest that you gather pen, paper and your thoughts. Surf the wave.

Yours in the struggle for inspiration.

Richard

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Capitec Bank, South Africa  

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O Tichmann 

+27 833970723

The Book Of Jacob

 Dear Mr Zuma

I have always felt a close kinship with you. (Well, since a few years after I was born). 

This is, in part, because we are both sons of the fertile, black, KZN, banana-and-maize-  bearing soil. (And beans). I now feel a solid cementing of that kinship. We have both, with mighty labours and the acute  pangs of childbirth, given life to books on our favourite theme: the life and times of one Jacob Gedleyihlekisa Zuma.

My book, 'Dear Mr Zuma', is, of course, a tribute to you (what else?). Your achievements have been downplayed, probably with malice aforethought by the spies mentioned below and their cunning WMC / Stellenbosch handlers. I wish that I could, like Mr Yeats, write them out in a verse. 

As that English chap wrote:

The evil that men do lives after them,

The good is oft interred with their bones.

Here, then, for posterity, is some of the good:

Many words have been coined to describe our politicians. Which politician can lay claim, though, to having coined a new word? In the heat of parliamentary battle, you plucked out of your bosom the melifluous 'meandos'. Creativity in full flow.

You ably demonstrated to us that numbers (like the gruesome practice of cat-skinning) can be used in many ways. Is not creativity far more important than mindlessly parroting our math teachers? I, for one, am grateful, as I try this innovative approach with SARS and creditors. 

Your fire pool is a seamless marriage of the best of engineering and innovative design thought. Why have two systems when one can work as well? One can both swim and put out fires. Not simultaneously, of course. No, hang on...

You made your mark in geopolitics. Colonial map drawers had us fooled about the true size of the African continent. Until you took measurements. And also showed us that No River Runs Through It.

Your subtle humour and infectious laugh saw us through many difficult times. I can't remember now, what caused the difficulties. My analyst calls it a PTSASD (Post Traumatic South African Stress Disorder) coping mechanism. I think it was also on your watch that the laws on marijuana were relaxed. This probably helped some South Africans get through, and probably laugh through, said difficult times. In the tough world of political comedy, even Trump couldn't hold a candle to you. Then again, he had electricity.

The story that some unqualified people had senior police posts during your tenure merely illustrates how serious you were about opportunity for all (Or is it some? Bit confused here). Anyway, who hasn't played cops and robbers as a child? That's some preparation, isn't it? Is not play the mother to work skills?

 Sir, I am sure that your book is packed with adventure, homespun wisdom, humour and dark tales of treachery in high places. Who can forget your cryptic references to legions and battalions of spies, during your too-brief Zondo Commission appearance?

 A  fleeting glimpse into a shadowy world, upon which, I'm sure your book will turn the fierce, unrelenting glare of discovery. 

One can hardly wait to read what, I am confident, will be South Africa's answer to War and Peace.

Yours in the struggle with the written word.

Richard  

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O Tichmann 

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Bull

 Some Ethekwini councillors visited Mr Zuma and presented him with a bull. Typically, my cynical, disrespectful friend said that the bull had come home to roost

I was outraged. I hate mixed metaphors. I also don't know what he meant. Anyone...

Fortunately, the councillors cleared up several important issues. The gift had nothing to do with:

1. Mr Zuma's alleged role in helping them win eThekwini

2. Gaining his support for Ms Gumede's career moves

For those of us who are pure of mind, nothing could have been further from our thoughts. Yes, the cynical and the suspicious are among us. The heart of man is desperately wicked says The Good Book. 

The councillors merely wished to ask about Mr Zuma's health and to wish him well. Who of us would not do the same for a friend? And if we had some spare bulls, I'm sure we'd take one along

They also sought his sage advice before embarking on a five year journey of selfless service to you and me, dear fellow Kayzedenner. Who better?

According to a news report, eThekwini councillor Ntandoyenkosi Khuzwayo said: “It’s customary for us as Africans that when you visit a person in their own home you bring a gift. Particularly when you are visiting the male head of a household you bring a gift in the form of a cow or cattle.”

This does explain my frequent sightings of cows and bulls in our suburb, which has a sociable, tightly-knit community. It's all clear at last.

"We did a symbolic thing, it's biblical to take your first fruit and give it to the priest. The bull was too big for the trailer we had got and so we had to get another trailer, so that was why we were delayed in getting here.”

Mr Zuma was reportedly ordained by some pastors, so I cannot quarrel with the priestly thing (even though that's a bit Old Testament).

Of course, if they'd used a symbolic bull in this symbolic thing (say, a can of Bull Brand corned beef), there would have been no trailer problems.

The king received an SUV, Mr Zuma a bull. I'll take a Namaqualand sheep from any of the other parties. Address below. 

South African proverb: A little bull goes a long way..

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Fragrances For Africa

 Dear Santa

Word on the street is that our president is sorely in need of a pair of big, brass balls - for his Christmas tree. Thought I'd get that request in early.

I notice that your popularity has waned in South Africa over the years. You are, after all, a white male with a penchant for undocumented forays into sovereign African states. On the positive side, your travels leave no carbon footprint. Reindeer dung is biodegradable and probably makes excellent fertiliser. You also come bearing free gifts, unlike the pre-election T-shirts and braais that carry a high, hidden cost.

I'd like our cabinet ministers and politicians to be of good cheer during the season of peace and goodwill. When they sneeze, or pass gas, well, you know what happens to the whole country. Hence my feverish, online search for the perfect gift.

The Le Humaine range of fragrances is the gift for the politician who has everything else. Please bring a plentiful supply of each of these fragrances:

Humilitè: Beautifully understated, subtle fragrance with the quality of a fresh breeze.

Le sens commun: No cloying, flowery notes here. A clean, honest fragrance that one either loves or hates.

La compètence: A strong, pleasing fragrance, just a small bottle of which lasts more than 27 years. 

La compassion: A deceptively gentle fragrance that lingers on for a surprisingly long time. 

We are desperately in need of something clean, fresh and lasting. Elsewhere, the answer may be blowing in the wind. Here, it's more than a hint of decay and decomposition.

Yours in the struggle for peace and goodwill.

Richard 

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Bugger The People

At our much-loved Home Affairs department I experienced again the power of the BTC approach to service. For those unfamiliar with government's cutting-edge service model, it's short for Bugger The Customer.

This trickles, or gushes, down from the overarching BTP value - Bugger The People. I am sure that you are at least familiar with the ubuLongwe (manure) philosophy

 uMuntu nguMuntu ngokuganga ngaBantu. Roughly translated: I am a person because I can mess other people around. 

Walk up to this department and you enter a bad forgery of one of the famous paintings of hell. People in various stages of discomfort, tiredness, boredom, anxiety and hunger queue endlessly. Scurrying about like little demons, are people selling places in the queue and everything else from chairs and overpriced photos to black pens. A gruff security person directs some who have been queuing for an hour into a new queue. 

Confusion reigns within and without as mysterious directions are given on each step of the highly classified process. Thank goodness for those who have gone before. That's  the only uBuntu in evidence. They helped fill in the pieces of the dreary puzzle. 

While the Home Affairs we know and love fulfilled all my low expectations, I was surprised to see similar scenes played out at a well-known retail store. Pensioners played musical queues as cashiers would suddenly disappear like the decuplets or a famous lawman. It might have helped to announce: "I've run out of cash. Please be patient. Back in ten hours." Then again, why spoil the fun of playing Guess What Happens Now with a little communication? 

There are three pillars of customer service excellence (call me for details, if mystified). They are not confusion, communication chasms and queuing for pleasure. But perhaps this service, in true BTC vein, is regarded as A Great Favour. 

Not much has changed. As in the good old days of Hendrik, John and Pieter, the poor, the powerless, the vulnerable are thoroughly disrespected. It's probably so worldwide. 

We're just so very, very good at it.

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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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Capitec Bank, South Africa  

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O Tichmann 

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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 

Tips for the blogger gratefully accepted 

Capitec Bank, South Africa  

1378565477

O Tichmann 

+27 833970723