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Everything changes and the only thing that doesn’t change is change itself.
This was proved true when yours truly won yet another bet after I put my money and beer on the Jacob of Nkandla pulling an “I ain’t going nowhere without the ANC” move against the new honchos of Sauer Street.
Because the more things change, the more they stay the same, I knew the great dancer from Nkandla was not going to let a newbie president dictate to him because the ANC has never reined him in and Ramaposer and his team would not change that.
With the winnings on my mind, my sober self went on a collecting spree and starting with that thieving cop Gumede.
I arrived only to find that he claimed he had forgotten about the bet but my brilliant self reminded him of his secret sins against his recently released convict of a neighbour, Molodi.
Now Gumede, who is a typical petty thieving cop, has been doing Omunye phezukomunye with Molodi’s wife while Molodi was an inmate doing half a decade for attempting to post his own cousin to the ancestors for planting a seed inside that loose wife’s womb.
Gumede knew the exposure of his theft of Omunye would spell out his last breath so my winnings plus 200% interest for having to make a threat was due to me and off to Konkodi’s tavern I went to bless my tongue for its skilful negotiating.
At Konkodi’s beerhole, I bumped into that troublemaker called Khathu, Son of Mafadza, the Venda native who is the only SAB ambassador in the country, so he claims.
Now Kathu, apparently birth-named Category before he became woke, used to be a scribe somewhere in the belly of his birth country of Republic of Venda and according to one of his former poverty-stricken colleagues, he used to have special PSL permission to cover professional football matches while carrying a bottle or three of SAB’s finest while on the touchline.
So it became a normal sight to see him armed with a beer in one hand and a camera in the other in his media heyday.
Being a typical economic refugee of note, Son of Mafadza opened the discussion with a case of the brown bottled brew of the gods and immediately uttered that apparently Ramaposer led a team of his fruit-cocktail team to the house of Zuma with intentions to do damage only to be told to keep their recalling tendencies to themselves.
Ramaposer, apparently, according to Son of Mafadza, gathered the entire national executive in order to report Jacob of Nkandla and still the mighty Jacob gave them the middle finger and even said #Nonke.
Son of Mongale, the Willow of Sofaya, said he had heard through the wireless that apparently some black asset managers wanted to raise R5 billion for a mine and actually suggested that, as Asphuzeni, we apply for their funding so that we get a mine and fund our libation tendencies.
The Willow of Sofaya also said he read in the woke newspaper that apparently BBC president and former Fidentia-scandal relative, Danisa Baloyi, was found by an investigation to have colluded with one spindoctor and a business friend to allegedly swindle the organisation of R5 million.
With the beer clearly taking over the senses of the Willow of Sofaya, yours truly reminded him that the rest of the rounds for the night were on him as part of my winnings and that was when Son of Mokone, the Mpho of Lebowakgomo, also said he read in the papers that apparently the mining minister is accused of having tampered with the sale of a mine and told the comrades over there that he wanted his friend to be an owner.
Obviously it became clear that yours truly was the only man standing after yet another bout with a few cases in search of the sense that lies somewhere at the bottom of SAB’s finest brown bottled brewage.
With the evil sobriety still lingering at the bottom of my belly, I dished out the wisdom and schooled my Asphuzeni faithfuls on the latest relevant matters of national importance.
That the Ace of Spades of Sauer Street told the party’s sleepists in Parliament that no voting with a conscience would be allowed when the vote of no confidence dawned upon Nkandla’s number one export.
Magashule meant ANC members surrendered their conscience to the once-mighty party when they accepted the deployment.
I also alerted my bevvied subjects that the Jacob of Nkandla actually wanted to resign but the challenge was the literal literacy challenges that accompanied drafting such a letter.
Obviously yours truly can assist with the first line which should sound familiar: “Fellow South Africans …”
With the winnings all collected and, once again, no credible solutions found at the bottom of the sea of bottles in front of me, I resorted to my shack castle to plot another session – because as long as Zuma is in charge SAB will be in business.
• Majakathata the Rogue is a comrade, director of Nahab (National Association of Husbands and Boyfriends) and chairperson of Asphuzeni Stokvel in Skomplaas, Mashishini.
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