Voices

Ramaposer, take your presidential induction like a man

2017-09-06 00:13

The last week has been filled with nothing but tears, laughs and of course a few too many of the holy waters of wisdom.

The week started off with a skop-and-chillas (pig head and chill session) at Sister Bettinah’s joint, sponsored by that EFF hot-headed Son of Gumede. Apparently, because he was convinced his fellow red-bereted colleagues in Parliament were going to get rid of Son of Nxamalala, the great Msholozi of Nkandla and like a super Houdini that he is, number one came out unscathed and laughing, again.

Once again, Zuma was in his comedic element during his appearance in the great house of honourable liars and, once again, Malema of Masakaneng and his red brigade led the assault on the father of Duduzane with the DA having a little bit of the sideshow as usual.

All was well until Silas, the Son of Mokone, called an urgent Asphuzeni Stokvel special congress meeting. Now Son of Mokone is an economic refuge too from that part of the country that produced the worst and the best of our parliamentary liars, Limpopo province.

Son of Mokone, who only joined my wonderful Asphuzeni two months ago after he was expelled from another stokvel called Arenweng in his home township of Lebowakgomo, called the gathering apparently to let us know that he had managed to bag a promotion at his work and would now be known as professional assistant security guard.

Like the honourable leader that I am, I let him capture the entire stokvel with a few cases of SAB’s finest brown-bottled beverages and indeed Son of Mokone obliged with a glaring display of economic success.

It was during that celebratory gathering that the Willow of Sofaya, my left-hand man (because the right always has my bottled friend), alerted us that apparently Motsepe’s other brother in law – Ramaphosa, of Buffalo and Marikana fame – has eight sidethangs and apparently he took a certain koerant to court to try to stop them from unleashing the information.

Although my subjects at Asphuzeni sympathise with the Buffalo billionaire, methinks he would have been naive to expect any less.

The race is for the president of Mzansi not that Stokvel called NoProblem from Skomplaas, which is led by that foolish, thieving white-shoes-wearing Sunday-school dropout of a councillor of ours.

Cereal must understand that if he is to lead the likes of yours truly we need to know even the dietary requirements of his pet dog and fish. We want to know like we now know about Zuma and Julius. Yours truly convinced the masses of Asphuzeni that indeed what Ramaposer is going through is presidential induction and not a smear campaign.

Unfortunately he does not have the endless wisdom of the likes of your truly next to him – I would have advised him to let nature take its course and take it like a man.

It was also at that glorious gathering that we heard through the wireless that NSFAS – those fellows who, together with that communist Blade, refused to let students study for free – has captured a student in the Eastern Cape with a R14 million, to which she rightfully helped herself to R800 000.

Unfortunately because she did not align herself with yours truly or even bothered to sponsor a session for me, now she has been summoned to pay back the multimillion-rand donation.

With every bottle conquered and before the earth started moving anti-clockwise, I led my faithfuls to the night vigil of the most famous taxi driver this side of Thaba Chweu, Sgonondo – another Sunday-school dropout who was the most suicidal of all the taxi drivers around Lydenburg. So suicidal was Sgonondo that sober passengers were not allowed to ride with him, making him my favourite driver for obvious reasons, rogues of a feather we were.

The following day as I led my congregants from the cemetery to the corrugate iron sheet (Lesenkeng) as per tradition, no jokes were allowed there – as eating remains a serious ritual before we embark on a proper after tears session.

Son of Mokone broke protocol and told us that apparently Dudu Myeni – who Malusi Gigaba recently told the world would be leaving SAA – told her world that she was not retiring from her shenanigans over at the national carrier.

Apparently Myeni, who is number one’s number one fan, so they say, thinks her skills are a scarce commodity and SAA needs her till 2019 – and before then the public purse shall do as it usually does in such scenarios and bail out SAA.

Obviously there was no other way to punish Mokone than for him to sponsor a round for poor, grieving taxi drivers.

In the glory of the beer that flowed during the closing rituals of Asphuzeni, KB a Lesotho national coincidentally also baptised Mokone over there, said he had heard over the wireless that his former deputy prime minister had fled that country to Msanzi apparently because the political climate over there has escalated to KZN-type killing fields.

Apparently, according to KB, the politician from Lesotho was told on national telly that a delegation would be sent to collect him from Msanzi because they miss him in that country.

While nursing my hangover with a few cold ones in the balcony of my two-room double-storey shack, the Willow of Sofaya called me and said apparently Bell “Maphotas” Pottinger have been red-carded in their country’s spinning association for co-spinning Mzansi’s democracy with our presidential handlers from the Saxonwold shebeen.

Apparently Msanzi is also out of the recession and without the help of Nomvula Mokonyane – but knowing her and her party, they will hog the credit for it as if the price of my beer ever changed anyway.

Talking of the telly, those former losers are back to their old ways. Those soccer-playing Safa delegates lost to Cape Verde, a country at the corner of Africa whose credentials are not even know to Google and probably has a population the size of parliament’s opposition benches.

Those loser are definitely enemies of progress and seeming have no wish to seem yours truly sober so I headed back to Sister Bettinah’s shebeen to once again search for this country’s solutions at the bottom of SAB’s finest brown bottled sweethearts.

Majakathata the Rogue is a comrade, director of Nahab (National Association of Husbands and Boyfriends) and chairperson of Asphuzeni Stokvel in Skomplaas, Mashishini. He pens in his personal capacity as a veteran patron of SAB.


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November 19 2017