Police Story

 Dear Fellow South Africans 

The sound of semi- automatic gunfire is shockingly loud, chilling and menacing. Particularly in the middle of a sunny morning 

I counted two bursts of semi-automatic gunfire. Later a video surfaced. It was  more a sound recording. No one in his or her right mind shows a face at a window at times like this. This could have been a Hollywood movie - Durban Drug Wars. Small arms fire semi automatic fire and Lord knows what else. The 50 or so rounds that were fired were not Hollywood props, The screams were not from extras. The blood must have been real enough. 

Kudos to the police this time. They actually turned up in time to get their van shot at. Perhaps there will even be arrests. Well, let's not get carried away.

What is usually missing amid the crashing of gunfire and the screams of terror is the wailing of police sirens. The police station is within easy hearing distance.  The gun battles are audible over half the suburb.  Would some of the excuses in the past have been:

Eish, we had no van.

Eish, all our officers were out. 

Eish, there were no celebrities involved? Eish, the station was being robbed.

Eish, we were waiting for backup / firearms / vests / Godot.

Eish!

There is no point in lambasting Mr  Cele. The poor fellow has clearly demonstrated that he is as out of his depth as a toddler thrown into the deep end of a pool for the first time. Can anyone explain what the commissioners, generals, colonels, lieutenants and other impressively titled coppers do?

Apart from attending Important Conferences and bumping into one another at state funeral parades. I assume that they are handsomely rewarded for those pretty titles and pretty uniforms. We know that intelligence does not always rhyme with police in some countries (not ours, of course - Good Lord!) But we do have police intelligence do we not? I would love to see the list of cases that they have actually cracked. Shouldn't be hard. I suspect that it would be rather brief. 

Police people, we watch TV. We see how the police in other countries operate. We know that they are not all Sherlock Holmes or Hercule Poirot or Columbo. They are ordinary policemen who work hard and methodically. Their genius lies in never letting go, following every lead from every angle, being guided by their experience and sometimes a spark of inspiration. They use technology that works. They communicate with fellow officers in other divisions and areas.

They are not reluctant to call for community help (including local TV stations) and many cases are solved on the basis of tips received. They knock on many doors and walk the streets, the silly buggers. 

Mr Cele might argue that we don't have the resources to cope with population growth. Yours to find solutions, dear man, not obstacles or scapegoats. That's why your pay packet is chubbier than ours. That's why you have nice houses and cars at our expense. And can jet from coast to coast, philosophizing about the dating habits of zama zamas, the morally corrupting effects of tattoos and the dangers of population growth. All that wonderful Advanced Policing stuff that has stuff-all to do with our bloody, dangerous reality.

Talking of what real police officers do in other countries, which of those boxes do you tick,  dear South African police?  

Please note that a talent for sleeping anywhere at any time is not among the boxes to be ticked. How many of you see police work as a vocation? How many as a vacation between paydays?  Here's a hint: when you played Cops and Robbers as a kid, did you usually play the cop part or the robber part? 

Some advice: if all that you get out of your police career are good sleep opportunities,  then I suggest that you reinvent yourself. Go into politics. Counsellors not only have sleep opportunities but there's dancing and singing as well and good chow. Make some room for young people who really want to make a career out of law and order. You may not be familiar with those terms. Doctor Google can help. I think you have time enough between naps to consult with him.

Go on. Who dares, wins.

Yours in the almost lost struggle for law and order.

Richard 

Tips for the blogger gratefully accepted 

Capitec Bank, South Africa  

1378565477

O Tichmann 

+27 833970723

 

Electrifying

 Dear Minister of Electricity 

I wondered why we have had less loadshedding lately. You know how one looks back with nostalgia to starlit nights, cold food, the  ethereal beauty of stalactites from dripping candle wax.     

Just days into the job, you cracked the code, solved the riddle, cut the Eskom Gordhan knot, pardon, Gordian knot. 

Consistent energy availability will ultimately lead to the end of loadshedding 

An epiphany to beat all epiphanies. A Daniel brought to Eskom. It is as if the intellects  of Edison, Einstein,  Archimedes and Newton all fused in one electrifying moment. We will never be the same.

This followed the Sherlock Holmes-like observation that technology, not corruption is the root of all evil at Eskom. You are hitting them out of the park, sir.

It is entirely possible that Mr de Ruyter was seeing and hearing things.  What with  cyanide or sinusitis problems (I'm a bit confused as to which it was - both? Apparently our finest were onto a sinusitis theory). I  did experience some disorientation when I had severe sinusitis.  During a conversation about the great power utility,  someone said: 

 "We must stamp out corruption completely."

I heard it as:

"Someone must eat."

These things happen.

It is not inconceivable that  journalists, on the trail of Eskom crime cartels, actually mistook  technicians out on the town for villains - a  classic confusion of technology with corruption. After all, how many of us can tell at a glance,  or after an investigation, the difference between  technicians and cartel villains? Particularly in the Eskom  - inspired gloom.   I've often mistaken honourable members of parliament for thugs. These things also happen. 

Jealous folk commented that you were   stating the blindingly obvious.  Genius is so often unappreciated. A prophet is not without honour,  except in his own portfolio.   Is it not typical of the genius mind to be able to pinpoint the overlooked, the taken for granted; to parcel it in a deceptively simple  scientific statement?  I used to wonder why we were taught that a+b=a+b. What the hell else could it equal? Now I am older and wiser. And still don't understand what the hell that was about.

Such is the Zen-like quality of genius and wisdom. A calm,  clear pond, out of whose seemingly  tranquil  depths the gloriously  hued koi rise suddenly and unexpectedly, scaring the shivambu out of one.

I bet the wires are buzzing right now in places as distant as Moscow and Washington.

"Comrade Ivan, drop whatever you are doing and take this message."

"Da comrade."

Sound of a vodka bottle crashing to the floor.

"Alert Comrade Vladimir's secretary.  He will want to be woken for this news."

"What is it comrade?  Is Trump defecting?"

"Bigger.  A South African comrade has discovered that consistent energy availability will ultimately lead to the end  of loadshedding."

"Jumping matryoshkas! This is bigger than Comrade Igor's invention of the lightbulb."

In a CIA building disguised as a Pizza hut,  the Russian voices come through with crystal clarity on the Sony tape.

 An agent stops his pizza slice halfway to his mouth.

"You hear that Bill?"

"Yeah, commie BS. It was Edison."

"No, you klutz. The bit about consistent energy supply."

"Jumpin' Jehosaphat! Better get the president onto this ASAP.  You know how grumpy he gets when he's woken, but this affects national security."

 

"I'm  on it buddy. Pass me a slice of that pepperoni, will ya."

And so once more, as in the days of Chris Barnard South Africa shocks and shakes the world. In Barnard's day, not least because,  according to some posts on social media, the heart transplant stitching was actually done by a gardener.  It would not surprise us to learn that the anaesthetic was administered by a sangoma. That's how we roll down here. When we're not rocking....

Back to Eskom and the Power of One. The most appropriate response to a revelation that has implications for energy management centuries hence, (barring the odd global nuclear conflict),  is:

 'Eish'.

Yours in the struggle for deceptively simple solutions to complex problems and the ability to see beyond corruption to the hot, throbbing heart of the issues.

Richard

Tips for the blogger gratefully accepted 

Capitec Bank, South Africa  

1378565477

O Tichmann 

+27 833970723

Politics of the Scrotum

 Dear Mr Malema 

You are clearly having a ball.  After the highly successful shutdown had everyone quaking with laugh...,I mean, in their boots, you informed members of Parliament that you have them all by the scrotum. 

No one can accuse you of not being innovative.  Africa is renowned for politics of the stomach, with South Africa a continent leader. You have now introduced politics of the scrotum. 

Just some advice, sir. The scrotum is defined as the external sac that encloses the testicles. This could be why your recent vote of no confidence was unsuccessful. The MP's may have experienced your ministrations as a fondling rather than punishment. You need to take a firmer, more encompassing grip. Perhaps the next vote of no confidence.

I am singularly impressed by your poetic, statesmanlike oratory. You blew Mister Mbeki's'  'I am an African' speech away. Your style is reminiscent of a sort of Daily Sun's  Churchill or Kennedy,  Life promises to be most interesting when  you become president of what's left of South Africa.  I can imagine you calling Kamala Harris. 

"Ms Harris, I am calling about preferential trade treatment for South Africa."

That's an interesting subject,:Mr Malema. Please do go on."

"You have no choice."

"I don't understand."

"Because I have you by the...."  Long pause.

"Mr Malema?"

"Er, Ms Harris, I'll call you back. "

"Floyd, Mbuyiseni!!"

 One can picture you at international leadership meetings. I see every male leader instinctively covering his nether regions at your approach. Of course this would exclude such comrades as Putin and the Cuban bloke, whose southern extremities would remain safe. 

Now, sir if you could  just put the squeeze on crime, our economic problems, our pathetic education, unemployment and the other two dozen challenges that we face. We could say, like a famous son of the ANC, who was rumoured to also have an interest in matters anatomical : "We gonna be alright".

 I am glad that you did not go for the jugular but further afield, because that has not worked with our portly politicians. Who knows? As we are squeezed in this mill, perhaps the answer does lie in the scrotal manipulation approach. Talking of squeezing,  is your preferred technique the squeeze, the twist or the  hearty tug? Or all of the above. This is very important for the world of political discourse going forward.  I imagine that those with whom you interact in this fashion would be going backward. 

There is your humility,  your grasp of global issues, your calm, restrained, practical, pragmatic approach to the challenges of South Africa, your old-fashioned courtesy.  Add this modern approach to political oratory and we have the complete statesman. I see political wannabes all over the world imitating your unique style. The squeeze gesture will probably become the standard in parliaments from Tibet to Timbuktu. Well done, sir. You are the example of the eloquent,  consummate, fire-eating African politician. You are a credit to your country and your continent. Africa applauds you.

Yours in the struggle for meaningful political intercourse.

Richard 

Tips for the blogger gratefully accepted 

Capitec Bank, South Africa  

1378565477

O Tichmann 

+27 833970723

Let Me Have Folk About Me That Are Dumb

I am grateful for the basic, generic education that I received.

Back when I had a bank account, the bank manager called me in to ask why my overdraft was overdrawn. I'm puzzled as to why bank managers ask redundant questions. Also why, in the face of skyrocketing national debt, they are so obsessed with trivia.

Drawing myself up to my full five feet, five inches height to intimidate the short bugger, I explained that the square of the hypotenuse is equal to the sum of the squares of the other two sides. He was impressed, rolling his eyes and looking heavenward. 

Knowing that Vasco De Gama did some sailing around here has been useful. It's a great conversation starter in the long Home Affairs queues. 

It would have been useful to be able to select subjects just a little more aligned to the real world and one's own aptitudes. For example, languages for me, quantum physics for many of you - a better start to the world of careers. Still, it's good to know that Archimedes promoted hygiene and Isaac Newton healthy fruit.

Condoleezza Rice and some others were involved in a think tank, (inspired, I'm sure, by our own Cyril), to address the risk that poor education posed to national security. 

"What in the name of Julius are the Yanks on about?"  I thought.

An encounter with a mugger got the brain cells working a bit more briskly. It was then that it struck me (the gentleman himself having struck me twice).

Would we be a lavatory country if our education had been different? What if we'd been challenged to think independently, solve real problems, analyze information, innovate, make reasoned decisions? 

Our problem solving abilities are piss-poor.

"We don't have decent facilities. Let's burn down our library.  That should do It."

"We have a bewildering array of problems that no one party can solve. This requires some profound thought. Let's march in March and if our people are hungry, don't blame them for climbing into those kotas and chips on your shop counters."

We cannot catch dumb, brutal thugs. What hope of collaring the slick criminals masquerading as politicians, businessmen and civil servants? No wonder that we are a safe haven for crooks, terrorists and every kind of parasite.

Our decision-making is appalling. 

"The Great Liberation Movement has trashed our country. Let's vote them in again. There are still some railway sleepers, stations and cables that need proper  disposal."

Our innovative responses to some complex problems have been to  appoint a minister of electricity and to have a pathetic march. The minister gave us a foretaste of his own formidable problem solving skills. In one meeting with some Eskom staff he established that de Ruyter, journalists and others have mistaken technical problems for horrific corruption. Yes, one can see how easily that could happen. Almost twins, those two types of problems. Lord, let this man be available for president!

We are like a crew in a deep, underground mine. The roof sags. The supports rot. Managers, shareholders, miners, engineers run around shouting garbled instructions. Some dance around, their shouted slogans and foot stamping makimg the supports tremble. How long?

I see, Ms Rice. The dumbing-down of a country is the prelude to its destruction. A kind of marinating of the ox for the spit.

This may suit some. Borrowing from Bill:

Let me have folk about me that are dumb

Dull headed folk and such as sleep upright

Yond Clevas have a lean and hungry look 

They think too much 

Such folk are dangerous 

Just an opinion. I'm sure that the experts on SABC TV and in government have it all buttoned down. And we can sleep well.

My community newspaper had an article headlined "Remembering Good Old Durban". There is no good old South Africa to remember  - not for everyone. We had hoped for a good, new South Africa. We got the dumbed down version. 

The front page headline was "No-one Left Behind This Human Rights Day".

Apologies to Don McLean:

Bye bye Miss South African  Pie 

Drove my Chevy to the levee 

And got shot in the eye 

Tips for the blogger gratefully accepted 

Capitec Bank, South Africa  

1378565477

O Tichmann 

+27 833970723

The Toilet Zone

 Have you ever fought a seemingly unending infestation of cockroaches, bedbugs or other nasties?

Even repeated doses of Blue Death (not the Democraic Alliance . a powerful insecticide) don't work. The bast....,er,  bugs seem to thrive and multiply instead, crawling out of nooks and crevices.  That's corruption and thuggery in South Africa today. 'Dios mio' the Mexican drug cartel bosses would say, crossing themselves in awe.

A state employee found two gentlemen waiting for him in his locked  office. 

"You are holding up our project", said Tweedledee and Tweedledum, as a friendly conversational opener.

"Why haven't you processed the payments?"

Our hero replied that he had no idea what they were talking about. The high priests of monkey business magnanimously absolved him of all blame and left him with this benediction. He was to await instructions from his boss and then to act speedily. 

In rapid succession followed these events:

A call from a government minister abroad, urging him to act quickly on the instructions to come.

An email message from his boss.

Neatly prepared documents from said boss, for his  suddenly important signatures , authorising payments,

Such authorizations were normally done by his boss.

His mother did not raise a fool.  Instead of the documents, he signed his resignation letter. 

 I am happy if you think this a fiction. The person who told me the story is young. She has a family. Much living to do.

It is the sort of story you will find repeated many times, in many South African settings. Discoverable,  If only our police were not preoccupied with Other Important Matters, too many of our journalists with sensatiotion and scandal, our politicians with power and petty rivalry. 

If you think, fellow South Africans, that we are in excrement., you are  half right. We are at the murky bottom  of the largest pit toilet a tenderpreneur could knock together. Drowning. 

It is frightening how little we know of the real business of South Africa. How deluded we are in believing  that there's even the smallest semblance of normality in this country.

There is a teeny possibility that the transaction above might have been perfectly innocent. Just agencies working in mysterious ways for the national good, right?

If we dispensed with notions of rainbows and melktert in the sky,  we would have to concede that:

1. We would need to have about five years of top to bottom auditing and investigation to flush out the vermin 

2. Anyone who so much as glanced at the cookie jar with longing would need legislative therapy 

3. We don't have the will, the stomach and perhaps not even the skills 

That exercise would probably work only through a benevolent dictatorship. Or even a malevolent one, provided it was honest. Of course, that won't happen We are an exemplary constitutional democracy. One might say that we are rather thoroughly rogered. 

Working then, from the 'if you can't beat them' dictum, I've devised a plan, We are heartily sick of pretence, deception, hypocrisy, gaslighting (even if it is  gas from our kindly Russian Comrades). 

My Transparency in Corruption Party (TCP) will ensure that all South Africans, regardless of race, gender, place of origin or border fence penetration point, will:

.1.Be fully informed of all corruption plans, initiatives, projects

2. Be able to participate fully and fairly in corrupt activities in their areas and through the following agencies:

  The Citizens' Corruption Agency  (CCA)

  The Senior Citizens' Corruption Agency (SSCA)

  The Youth Corruption Agency (YCA)

  The Women's Corruption Agency (WCA)

  The Infants and Children's Corruption Agency (ICCA)

  The Illegal Immigrants Corruption Agency  (IICA)

3. Be able to munch on the succulent, worm-filled fruits of corruption.

We will put an end to the horrific use of hitmen 

, (izinkabi - literally 'oxen'), to settle scores. We will employ the talents of izimbuzi, (literally 'goats'), to administer the occasional, deserved, light thrashing. Sjamboks to be used only in extreme cases of stubbornness.

There may not be a way out of the mess but this is a way to participate fully in the mess, as active, concerned  citizens should. 

Shoddy, incompetent corruption activities will not be tolerated, Excellence in Corruption our motto.

If we're to go to hell in a handbasket, let's not drag it out. Let's do it equitably, efficiently expeditiously.

It's our turn to chow down.

Vote for us. By innovative means, we'll ensure that elections are free, fair and favourable.

Do it well, or not at all, our other motto.

Once we're done, which shouldn't take long, we could find creative ways into Zimbabwe, Lesotho, Malawi and other brotherly and sisterly destinations. Leaving South Africa to the other vermin.

Tips for the blogger gratefully accepted 

Capitec Bank, South Africa  

1378565477

O Tichmann 

+27 833970723

Red Rioting Hood and Friends

Little Red Rioting Hood and friends lived on  the edge of a beautiful green forest.

The forest was looking rather tattered lately. Woodcutters  had wreaked havoc, cutting  and selling the majestic, old trees for firewood. With the profits they  bought all the essentials one needs for a modest life: luxury German  cars, fancy houses and expensive watches. When people  complained, they flashed valid permits and tender documents. Anyway, they said, a regular, thorough pruning with chainsaws was good for the forest,

"Where else will you get fuel for your cooking? Wind turbines?"

"And besides, we donate, out of the goodness of our cholesterol clogged hearts, wood chips and sawdust  to our poorer people to power their ice cream  businesses."

While Little Red lived in a sprawling house and dined on dainties,  friends lived in hastily erected shacks and lived on magwinyas, whose price kept rising. But the friends loved the little hood dearly.

"She speaks so nicely and promises all those good things.  One day we will drive out all the wolves and this beautiful,  green forest will be ours - even if we have to burn it down first,"

The wolves were of every description: fat wolves, not - so - fat wolves, growlers squeakers and howlers.  This really, really annoyed little Red. Some wolves she said did not belong. They should return to the northern forests or pay handsome arrears-rental. To whom, she omitted to mention.

What annoyed her most was that the wolves claimed to be the guardians of the forest. Worse still, they claimed to be grandma's best friends and protectors.

"We took care of grandma when you were still a little Red pipsqueak. 

Now you're nothing but a big talking pipsqueak."

Now Grandma lived on the other side of the forest, just about getting by on a state pension. Her once fine house had seen better days. She often had baked beans, (from a nearby spaza shop), on toast between pension paydays. The wolves, woodcutters and the Hood WhatsApp group all claimed to care dearly about her but her gaunt frame and persistent cough told a different tale. Only a few kindly neighbours ever did practical things for grandma but the wolves, the woodcutters and the hoodsters snarled at them to mind their own business.

Grandma sighed.

If only they would all leave her in peace to do her knitting and baking, have an occasional gin (the prices were pretty much beyond her pension pay grade), watch Durban Gen, Man United and the Sharks.

But it was not to be,  for all had heard the rumour that grandma actually had a substantial amount tucked away in VBS and other banks.

Little Hood arose in a foul humour one morning. Her favourite Gucci store had been closed by protests.

"Enough",  she said.

"Those damned wolves are raiding Grandma's cupboards and filling her head with capitalist, colonialist nonsense. It is the month of March, ideal for marching, and we shall march to Grandma's. She filled a basket with delicious baked goodies: Pan-African pie,  promise puffs,  dialectical delicacies and revolutionary red velvet cake.  All light, fluffy and airy. The aroma filled the forest, reaching even to Grandma's house,  though she couldn't quute tell what it was and whether she liked it or not. The friends of hood cheered,  danced and urina..., pardon, ululated.

But the wolves and woodcutters disapproved.

"How dare you feed Grandma that unhealthy, sickly sweet stuff? Do you have any idea how many grandmas are seriously ill from feeding on that junk?

And the last time you lot marched through the forest, you burned whole swathes. urinated and worse on the pathways."

"Nonsense!" retorted the hoodster.

"The forest and the future belong to us. You are irrelevant."

'Irrelevant', a word she'd learnt recently at school, was one of Little Red's favourites. Almost as good  as 'revolutionary'. (She struggled a bit with the letter 'r', being still so little).

"Irrelevant!" The wolves huffed and puffed indignantly.

"Wrong story", said the little hood. "And you can't blow my house down.  it's made of wevolutionary materials donated by friends of the wevolution." 

So the arguments raged back and forth. The forest rang and echoed with howls, yelps, high pitched, girlish shrieks, barks and what sounded suspiciously like great, booming brain farts.

Grandma sighed and returned to her knitting.

 

Tips for the blogger gratefully accepted 

Capitec Bank, South Africa  

1378565477

O Tichmann 

+27 833970723

EFFU

Dear Mr Malema 

I have formed a party called EFFU. 

I am writing to confirm that you have no objection to the  coincidental, passing resemblance to your own outfit's name. After all, the U makes all the difference, just as it does in service to the people. As a humble, dedicated, self-effacing servant of the nation, you know this.

 

The Elderly Fascist Fighters United party will fight for rights and recognition for senior citizens. This excludes the many in parliament, who are already fairly well catered for in terms of basic needs (A couple of cars, houses, free transportation, KFC etc.).

Senior citizens have  long endured neglectful and callous treatment from fat cat politicians, uncivil servants and uncaring businesses.  For but one example,  I refer you to queues for pensions, medical treatment and government 'services'. They are on the 

receiving end of 'the proud man's contumely, the insolence of office and the spurns that patient merit of the unworthy takes' (thanks Bill). You

may have heard of the VBS saga. No? I shall send you some Pauli van Wyk articles.  A caution: I am not sure that she isn't one of those Stratcom journalists under the spell of George Soros and the tobacco fellow (not Mazzotti; the Stellenbosch chap).

There is already feverish interest in the party from senior citizens and a smattering of illegal immigrants. There will be no marching for our party.  Queues at such models of service excellence as Home Affairs are hard enough on legs and knees. Tai Chi sessions in public parks, with the odd shouted slogan will nicely discharge our PR obligations. For the rest, what the hell is social media for? If not for an hour such as this.  Who knows, after 20 March your ground forces, too,  might wish to consider this approach.

 

Sir, as one whose  powerful party has danced aloft the heights of 0.7 and almost 5 percent in recent polls, your guidance in some matters would be appreciated. 

We do already know about the power of  promises that you can't keep..., sorry, renege on, made to desperate people. We've read the histories of various  politicians from the 1930s. We are more  interested in the following:

Will our MPs be able to maintain a lifestyle like yours on their  salaries or will they need side hustled such as tenders?

How do you survive those intriguing encounters with court-related matters?

Who knows when one, in the performance of duties, may need to jostle a police officer, without any malign intent? Or to fire off a toy AK47 in innocent celebration? 

Your colourful pronouncements never land you in hot water. I was once sued for calling someone a pig - the swine! Your secret, sir? You have a fine line in insults. I see that you do draw the line at the C-word. Dare I mention it - 'cockroach'. Quite right. They are revolting creatures, revelling in muck and feeding off us.

Your answers to these frequently asked questions will be invaluable to our fledgling party, as we strive to advance the cause of the disadvantaged.

Yours in the struggle for peaceful democratic discourse within the rule of law.

Richard 

Tips for the blogger gratefully accepted 

Capitec Bank, South Africa  

1378565477

O Tichmann 

+27 833970723