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The so-called tactical technical recession finally arrived in my wonderful Mashishing township. Things were so bad over the last week, yours truly had to shebeen-hop to deplete my grace with different shebeen queens, just to evade the devil called sobriety.
First, my journey started with MaDlamini’s Tavern, my scandalous next of next of next door, who reminded me that I owe her a bill from the 2010 World Cup when Phillip was in town. Now MaDlamini’s spot specialises in Sassa card-for-beer exchange and yours truly is still waiting for her sister Bathabile to approve my beer grant application.
That stingy MaDlamini only donated two ngudus to wet my throat and it was upon attempting to quench my thirst there that Son of Majekeje told me that apparently a former mayor of Rustenburg who was once nailed for illegally causing the death of a political opponent will be heading to the honourable house of Mbete in Parly to occupy the cold seat left by Son of Molefe earlier this year.
READ: Controversial ANC leader goes to Parliament
Apparently the fellow who goes by the name Wolmarans has strong power connections from above (Supra). While listening to the sad tale, the bottom of the bottle was threatening to lead to no solutions, so I dashed.
My next stop was Sister Bettinah’s joint, my favourite drinking hole under the sun – not because of my beer tab allowance there that is always settled by Asphuzeni and Nahab gatherings but because Sister Bettinah and I share a common loathing for politicians – especially our filthy, thieving, lying, big-nosed skew-headed form-four dropout councillor.
Sister Bettinah, as usual, did not disappoint and ensured I left her place walking on all fours and senselessly well-imbibed but not before we heard that the Twitterazzi finally made Number One threaten to recall higher education’s number two, Son of Manana.
Son of Manana, that one who apparently beats up banyana, finally took yours truly’s personal advice and called it a day as the deputy minister of the yellow communist chief Blade. Thank you Mduduzi we at Asphuzeni and Nahab shall await your grand blue-lightless entrance when we host your consolation drinking session. The bill is yours of course!
Despite calling it quits as Blade’s number two, Manana is still a member of the house of Mbete in Parly as he needs that warm chair for his honourable nap when he heads there.
Just when I thought Sister Bettinah’s beers were poisoned enough, Son of Nkwanyana and the Willow of Sofaya arrived bearing the gift of bad news. Our councillor was still in council, Bathabile and Muthambi were still being paid to be mediocre and the Guptas have not being evicted yet. Obviously that called for another session and the bill was on Willow since he had a debt to pay for the consolation session last week.
I dragged my heavy head to Konkodi’s tavern on the other side of our kasi. Now Konkodi is not a man of many words but he’s the most hospitable owner in the whole of Thaba Chweu and dare I say Msanzi and during my visit he did not hesitate to thank me in kind for being the chief mourner at his late aunt’s funeral.
I recall it like it was yesterday when Ausi Tlaki died. I had loaned her all the stokvel’s money, a day before we were sure of a massive 300% interest profit, only for her to die. My tears made me the chief mourner of those who die and, since Tlaki was not popular because of her con-woman ways, Konkodi was eternally grateful.
Just when I was beginning to think the brown bottle in my hand was not dashed with the sufficient dosage of the tears of the gods, the wireless whistled that Mrs Mugabe, the worse half of Uncle Bob from next door, was given a free pass by the cover-ment of the day. This after the mama allegedly unleashed a mother of a beating on a young model who was being hosted by her two bratty offsprings.
READ: Will Nkoana-Mashabane be called over ‘agonising’ Grace Mugabe immunity?
Apparently our head of state – the one from Nkandla, not the Saxonwold Shebeen – is desperate to be in the uncle’s good books. He might need to make a run for it to Zimbabwe if Dubai does not work out post-Union Building. Methinks Mugabe will still not harbour an alleged political criminal.
The wireless also whispered that Son of Manyi, the alleged Gupta defender, bought Gupta media for almost half a billion rand. Obviously the recession has not reached the Manyi household – especially after he allegedly attempted to capture the DG position at the mineral resources department under its former minister Ngoako Ramatlhodi. The red bereted brats were unimpressed by Manyi’s good fortune.
READ: ‘Nothing transformation’ about Manyi-Gupta media deal – EFF
Our presidency at Saxonwold seem to be selling off their loot and I wonder if I should also make myself visible in the northern Joburg suburb and maybe I will also get vendor-financed too.
While on recession talks, Vodacom – of red for danger fame – chowed my airtime and data and while I was pondering how I was going to organise a protest to their head office and await a few bottle of SAB’s finest to shut up like MTN did to TBO Touch, son of Mongale told me tholukuthihey Vodacom indeed ran out of data.
READ: How Vodacom's data blunder happened
The world of sports has produced interesting developments recently, son of McCarthy has opened his PSL with a win against league champions who are led from the bench by the man who discovered him, Gavin Hunt, and the former darling of Naturena Doctor Khumalo has left the nest to join Baroka in Limpopo.
The richest football league in the world patronised our people and donated 2 000 balls in Soweto apparently to sure they are serious about development in the country, yeah right!
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