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The past week has been one mixed with sweet sorrows and a dash of hope for this Republic of Gupta of ours.
First, yours truly honoured a stokvel association event in the eastern end of my Mashishing township only to find out those teetotallers had intentionally called me to suck my wisdom without so much as a brown bottled brew to wet my throat.
So naturally, five minutes after my arrival and with no sign of the brew of the gods in sight, I saw my way out with an excuse that I had to answer my 3310 mobile phone and that was the last those sinning chancers saw of me.
In my escape, son of Nkwanyana, the Comforter of Nongoma, called me to plead his case why I should bless his son’s birthday party with my presence.
Now Nkwanyana has had to plead because he has a rosy history of selling out when heavily influenced, especially in the audience of the fairer sex.
However, because yours truly is merciful and, like some gods, I subscribe to giving second chances, I obliged of course, with the sole condition that an allocation of two cases of the SAB’s finest and a skop (pig’s head) needed to be set aside to appease my throat and tongue.
With the hip hip hoorays done, I kicked off proceedings – but not before laying ground rules for the session (which was obviously that my stash is my stash and theirs belong to all of us).
I told them to learn from my leadership wisdom and, like Mangosuthu Buthelezi, I was in the process of grooming the next drinker-in-chief.
Speaking of the great leader that is Buthelezi, he, like the great Son of Majakathata, has led with distinction for many years and showed a lot of disgruntled non-believers the door.
With all that great work, and edging nine decades, he decided to close the curtain of his political chapter.
Needless to say my congregants at Asphuzeni can expect my leadership to last a bit longer because there are many more brown bottles to empty.
It was during the same session that the Willow of Sofaya, Son of Mongale, told me that apparently Sister Bettinah has started another business after her failed shebeen.
According to the Willow of Sofaya, Sister Bettinah has started a business as a relationship adviser and seduction expert and word has it that the latter service is raking in clients.
Son of Mongale also said he had read in one woke Sunday newspaper that apparently all the shouting and screaming and revolutionary dancing by the bornfrees was not enough for fees to fall and a report on the matter by a woke committee stated that free schooling was not feasible.
Methinks it’s because if fees fell there would be enough woke graduates to spot the looting from a mile away.
Mpho, Son of Mokone, who has grown tendencies of dashing the immortal waters of wisdom with Oros, said he had also read in the koerant that a certain son of Modubi, who was once a Chelsea buy, is making a name for himself over the seas.
Apparently the lad from Malema’s kasi is raising eyebrows over there faster than that EFF in a budget speech .
Mokone also said Son of Zwane, the Mangethe of the mines, reopened the mine he shut down of Bafokeng the Royals and shut another a few hours later, just for control apparently
With all the bottles emptied and the solutions to the poor bornfrees’ fees headaches not being found at the bottoms thereof, yours truly led my delegation of soakers to Konkodi’s tavern, where apparently obviously he needed us since Sister Bettinah had obviously moved on to her next conquest.
Konkodi, like the fine well-mannered gentleman he is, greeted us with six ngudus and proceeded to brief us that he read in the woke media that Son of Nxamalala, the Jacob of Nkandla, attempted to negotiate lobola and ended up costing his nephew 120 cattle and almost a R1 million in cash.
Yours truly is beginning to make sense of this thing called politics. Methinks he is either javelining the wealth to that country after the Dubai one was outed or he is simply a very bad negotiator.
Mark my words Msanzi, the latter conclusion would make sense since even though the Son of Gigaba said the public purse is empty but the former is more realistic.
Konkodi, being his usual generous self, let the brew of the gods flow in order to avoid the topic of his heartbreak. He also said he had heard through the wireless that apparently the Son of Jordaan, Danny of Safa presidency fame, has finally spoken out about allegations that he once forced himself on a female in 1997.
Jordaan, who is still at Safa House after his Port Elizabeth mayoral stint had its natural life fluffed out by the blue brigade and General Holomisa’s orange caps, had a few more women coming out and saying he apparently has sex-pest tendencies.
However, the shocker Konkodi said, was apparently Bathabile DlaMeanie was at loggerheads with the non-sleepists at Scopa again, because she might preside over the bungling of social grants again.
MeThinks DlaMeanie is a pure reflection of the presidency’s idea of excellence or maybe a great joke.
Apparently, according to woke media, Bathabile (they’re happy) had told the nosy scribes in the east coast that Sassa will make use of an open tender bla bla bla etcetera.
That woman gives me a headache because I am still waiting for the approval of my beer grant.
So with the booze appetite gone out the door yours truly followed and crawled my way to my zinc castle to attempt once again to dream of a better Msanzi.
- 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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