I hereby apply for a job as pioneer professional Chief Executive President of an African country. I wish to take on the entire African continent, actually.
I want to restore the long lost dignity and honour of African people in the world. It’s time I take charge in order that one morning before I die, I’ll wake up and shout out to the world not only I AM AN AFRICAN!, but, I am a PROUD African! At this expression of elation, the earth shall move, and dance under my feet.
I want to turn Africa around. Under my professional, corporate style leadership, Africans will be a model of freedom and human decency in time. People of the world will come to Africa to taste, and learn about, freedom as an innate human quality and attribute. There’ll be no more WE WANT FREEDOM …/ WE ARE FREE … songs and all. Africa will be a symbol of freedom itself. African people will be living manifestations of what freedom means for humanity: ABUNDANCE. Africans will be at home in Africa, welcome anytime, anywhere in the world. This will make me proud.
I am not proud I am an African. I am not proud of being an African. Today. Being the proudest Black Man I know does not make me proud of going around with the African tag engrossing my entire being permanently. How I personally feel, and think, about myself do not, and cannot, alienate me from being an African man, first and foremost. I am not a cosmetic African. I make, design, and live my world as an internally free, proud Black Man. When I confront the external, non-African world, the most likely initial reactions to my presence, that seen from a historical perspective, will be in association with fear-of-the-unknown, evil, hostility, hunger, misery, ignorance, disease, and much more. I have travelled the world, so I know.
Africans are the least respected people on earth. This is a collective curse, I dare say. When everyone else is hammered out through and through, the very last person to take it out on is an African. Every South African familiar with apartheid will attest to this. Many Africans out in the diaspora will sure have their own stories to tell about this, for generations. Thanks to the ever-pathetic African political leadership throughout history.
African people are ever the most betrayed, the most abused by their own leaders. Africans are probably the-most-sold-to-slavery-people on earth, for all times. Africans are the least protected people by their own leaders on earth. If, and when, I die I die. But I do go round pondering how the likelihood is higher that, for my provocative utterances, I may just be taken out by own African political leaders. Strange, but White Supremacists don’t worry me that much in that regard. They’ve had licence to kill in Africa for so long. I see them come from a distance. And I can kill too. I’m only human, like everyone else, ultimately. People are animals. Animals kill and die all the time. That’s life. Who can respect us, Africans, then? Who can ever take us seriously anywhere in the world, then? “You want to feed these hungry niggers? Feed them in Africa! …” said an irate citizen of another country of the world not long ago, protesting against the presence of African refugees, who’ll contaminate the host county’s purity, if allowed to stay. God just looks on. Passive. And the only thing we could do was cry, “Racists! Racists! …!!!” Our political leadership across Africa does not move even the little finger. I want to change all this.
With superior modern Corporate Governance principles I can turn Africa, and the African mentality of self-destruction, around. Under my well-honed professional leadership, African people will cease to run away from wars and the attendant miseries of these often greed-inspired civil wars. I will run Africa like a well-oiled, impersonal commercial and industrial machine. I will bring Nivarna to Africa. No one will have to do anything extreme to ensure right of passage into heaven because I’ll bring heaven here on earth, in Africa. Corporate Governance Ethics make no allowances for endless supply of nubile virgins and the like, unfortunately. In my Corporate Governance managed Africa, you want it, you work for it, you get rewarded accordingly, in real terms. And you live to enjoy the glory. Share. Produce more. Grow. Develop. Co-exist. Be a role model. Make the world a better place to live for all, with mutual respect, dignity, and honour.
Give me the job!
Zero. I feel so strongly about this I’ll work for free. Since I am single, with no children, cats, and dogs, I can live just fine with a subsistence allowance enabling me to buy shaving creams, and other such personal vanity things of my own. Special requests as below, though.
- Fringe benefits
- Food. Not too fussy about food; just it’s clean and nutritious. Organic vegetarian food even better, where/ when possible. I cook. Red Wine, doesn’t have to be Italian. Wouldn’t harm from time to time, though.
- Top class Health & Wellness facilities, as well as services. I can train auxiliary personnel myself.
- Wardrobe doesn’t have to be Armani, or Tom Ford. But no harm if so.
- Get back my gold Rolex (NO diamond studs, please!).
- When the Mercedes is back, it’ll have been upgraded to S Class. Maybach, or Maserati wouldn’t harm either. This category not so crucial, but could be real cool if fulfilled. I don’t need a driver.
- Absolutely not necessary with a palace for accommodation/ official residence. I already have an okay place to stay. Need not more than R 200 000,- (two hundred thousand Rand only) for any upgrading work. Since I live alone, not necessary with extensive security detail. And given that I’ll be the best African people’s Chief Executive President ever, the people will want to interact with me at a much higher degree than it happens in Africa today, anyway. The people shall protect me.
30 years. Immediate dismissal without compensation the moment I falter, screw up, or fail to deliver. No strikes, protests and all that time- and resource-wasting crap. If I, for whatever reason, with sticks and primitive, African traditional weapons decide to attack a policeman armed with modern assault and protective armour, shoot me down at once. It’ll be a mortal sin for any one not to use their brains in my corporate style managed Africa.
- DUTY COMMENCEMENT
Tel: +27 717 454 115
October 25, 2013
- I once again state emphatically state that I am the proudest Black Man I know. And, believe me, I happen to know many, many proud and great Black Men. Starting with my own father, through Muhammad Ali, to Nelson Mandela. And then there is Barack Obama.
I know my strengths, my capabilities, and my potential. Behind every manifestation of real, fake, or fantasised weaknesses, I am at least ten times stronger at any one time. Do not try, do not test, and do not threaten me. I promise you, if you live, you may not be able to tell the story. “You think you are some kind of a God now Simon, don’t you?” I am God. Only no religion, no followers. Just Black & Proud. I tell it like it is, as mine eyes behold.
- I make some strong subjective claims in this posting. Were this an academic PhD thesis, I would substantiate every claim I make, of course. But that has to wait until such a time I do get into some serious PhD program in one thing or another.
Day before yesterday, the lady newly employed to come and assist us with domestic chores and all, does not report for work at the agreed upon time. My younger sister calls her on the phone. It turns out the lady had opted to go out to attend to some official bureaucracy errand instead, and that would keep her away all day. The same had occurred last week Wednesday. Upon complaining to a girl friend that had recommended the lady, the friend says to my younger sister, “Our people are really strange. Had you been White, the woman would have told you, and requested for leave of absence in advance! Our people have no respect for work, not in the least us, who employ them, especially when we pay them well, and treat them humanely”
After an arduous day of clearing away construction site rubbish, I pay the 10 casual workers each double the normal daily rate in Welkom. I had also bought them a Nando’s grilled chicken + Coke lunch earlier on in the day. Politely, I thank them for a job well done, and ask them to, please, all come back the following day so we can finish off what was left of the rubble. Same generous conditions to apply. “Sure, Ngamla/ Boss!” all in unison, with apparent enthusiasm. So cool!
As I turn away, I hear one of them say, “Eish, bafowethu/ homies, enkleke/ really, I don’t work for Black people, mina/ myself. I’m not coming back …” The speaker is a starving, unemployed, non-skilled street hustler as black as industrial coal. 33-45 degrees Celsius temperatures in January/ February, in central South Africa, can be very unkind on the skin, especially that of a malnourished one whose owner most likely doesn’t even have a decent place to stay either.
Someone else, Joey, in the construction industry as well, asks one of his workers to bring an extra hand to work one day. The new worker has not been told who the mlungu/ White Boss is. After picking up the regular worker, plus the extra hand, Joey, decides to pass by a place where a job had earlier been done. Joey takes a little longer than expected to come back. So, a little agitated, the new worker asks his friend who, and where, the mlungu/ White Boss was. Won’t he be very angry when they show up late for work? Upon being told that Joey was actually the mlungu/ White Boss, the extra hand angrily jumps off Joey’s waiting van, shouting, “I don’t work for Black people, don’t you know, man?” The guy chose to walk back into town, about 20km away. Chances are he didn’t make any money for something to eat that day. Aghhh, who cares?
To build my mother a new family home, a top-trained, highly experienced professional builder is engaged. His portfolio includes some of the most beautiful, modern houses built in Welkom’s up market suburbs in recent years. However, with my mother’s new house, he made such gross and costly building technical mistakes other experts meant that only an amateur could do. All this was totally confusing for me because the builder had such a fantastic track record, and reputation. It later turned out that all his previously superbly built houses were owned by White people. Working for gentle, kind, generous, and considerate fellow Black people meant that the he could be lax, and pay little attention to detail. He would even drink alcohol, and get drunk on-site, I’m told later. Not long after he was fired, he fell sick, and died. Wonder if his soul is rested in peace. He sure cost me a fortune. But I’m still living well, at peace with myself, and my circumstances, free, black soul in white South Africa.
In India, my Norwegian friends and I run out of charitable monies budgeted for the day. We convey this information to the group of beggars, who never seemed to get enough. When after some minutes it is clear there was nothing more to get from us, a strange hush engulfs the group of beggars, as they all come towards me menacingly. I am encircled, when something incomprehensible to me is mumbled, and at the same time all spit at my feet, and then walk away in indignation. That didn’t break my bones. I was glad they didn’t get physical. That saved them the black wrath of God. My White Norwegian friends didn’t seem to have taken any notice of all this; it happened so fast, and I was as calm as God I am. Took it all with a smile. Civilized gentleman.
At the height of the last global Finance Crisis a few years ago, I find myself in the most beautiful and most exclusive neighbourhood I’ve ever been to. Here, I met people to whom Finance Crisis “… was just something we read about in newspapers”! After a few days, I just had to ask, “But there doesn’t seem to be any Black people around?” Respond, “Sure, hardly any Black people this territory. You probably wouldn’t see them even if they were here”
I was shown one super mansion built by a major hop-hop star earlier on. He had to sell and go away because “… he couldn’t keep up to standards around here”
I was offered to stay and do my business there. But the idea of being a non de script wealthy Black Man in White America did not appeal. In White Norway and South Africa, I am Black and visible, I am somebody, rich or poor. But then again, to hell with poverty anywhere, any time. Black, proud, and wealthy in White South Africa is ever so cool.
While waiting for our luggage at Banjul International Airport, the Gambia, the other year, standing next to me is an elegantly dressed Senior Corporate Executive type from Belgium. To receive him is an excited, tanned, slightly younger Englishman, nature type. From their conversation I quickly understand that the Belgian was indeed Big Boss of an investment consortium with vast economic interests in both The Gambia, and Senegal. “All our projects are doing very, very well indeed now, Sir. We are on the roll. The government is very pleased with us … but you see, Sir, it is of paramount importance that WE are here all the time if things are to work like we want them to …”
This is White Man’s world. In South Africa, White Man has been the most feared, and most revered person for at least 500 years now. White Man is real power; he wants it, he gets it. No matter how long it takes, no matter the consequences, using all means at disposal. White Man is Lord of the Universe. The moon shudders at the thought and sight of White Man. Jupiter, here we come! Planet earth is already a wreck. But because White Man is solution-oriented, Global Warming shall be fixed. No problem. Just live long enough, you shall see. White Man has it all, does not need to prove anything; this world is his. Ever heard of any White History Month?
White Man makes history all the time. White Man is history itself; the way it’s written, the way it’s told, and the way it’s preserved. Everything that makes the world go round is designed to meet and satisfy the needs and wants of White Man. Anything else of non-White Man origin has to appeal and make sense to White Man for it to have any significant global impact.
At his best, White Man is Philosophy, as well as R&D. White Man is master of invention, innovation, change, adaptability, and foresight in the constant search for mastery over nature in order to improve the quality of life and living. White Man is the future; does not fuss over small, immaterial things that slow down human progress and development. It boggles my mind that White-South-Africans-with-nothing-but-their-own-fears-to-fear seem not to understand all this. They are not that intelligent after all.
At the peak of cultural sophistication and intellectual complexity, White Man becomes a deracialized life-style paradigm, entailing in non-equivocal terms, liberty, equality, and fraternity: DEMOCRACY.
You want to live in ever-lasting success and happiness in a free South Africa, strong Cradle of Humankind home? Just know yourself. Be yourself. And live white, man. Black is deep, keeps it all together. Nelson Mandela knew this.
Tel: +27 717 454 115
October 18, 2013
The humane and spiritual magnanimity of South African people regarding what they have had to give in order to facilitate the creation and sustenance of the relatively peaceful, and prosperous post-1994 democratic South Africa can only be fully understood by those who have felt the venomous bite of the fangs of apartheid in their bodies, minds, and souls. It’s not a thing just read about in books and research reports to comprehend thoroughly.
I guess the apartheid venom was so effective it made us, Black people, into huge, docile sponges you can pee and shit upon ceaselessly, and we’ll keep smiling, ever extending our hands out to evil-minded White supremacists people, begging for love, and peaceful co-existence. But then again, I fear there is a Black Cat in the hearts and souls of many a, if not all, apartheid survivors and their descendents. The Black Cat is on the run, quite, fluid, and purposeful despite all the madness around it. The cat does not want to die: Keep moving; endure the hurt, the pain, until …
As per the social engineering ramifications of obnoxious apartheid, there was no order, no law those days in the townships of South Africa. So, this stray Black Cat, like many other cats and dogs before it, appears like from nowhere. Lost. We could have been fewer, but in my child’s head I see about 15 children getting instantly delirious, as was usual in situations like this. Picking up stones, and other projectiles, we chase the animal. Kill the cat, children! When the stupid cat decides to run into a tennis court nearby, I thought, “Well, this is going to be easy game!”
There were now even more children in the only form of hunting adventure we knew in the townships those days. Stones, bottles, pieces of metal, anything, zooming onto the poor cat now hopelessly trapped in a cul-de-sac. In total exhaustion and pain, the cat finally falls off the fence it had been clawing in vain, hoping against hope that it could still escape, collapses on the tennis court floor. Momentary state of shock for all. Yet another projectile is thrown. The cat is hit. It makes a weak attempt to move. No good. Then, I still see the scene like in slow motion, it’s like there was dead silence for a while. The cat became smaller, is if air was being squeezed out of it. We are all mesmerized. Before we knew it, the cat had become, in my eyes, as big as a horse. Standing on its hind legs, upright into a tennis court corner, fore legs raised kick-boxing guard style, the cat made the last snarl and flew at us. Pandemonium as we all, now 20 plus children, scrambled to come out of the tennis court gate simultaneously. Only now does it makes sense about the claustrophobia I quietly suffered from for many years soon afterwards.
When the time comes, heaven forbid, for the Black Cat in South African Black People’s hearts and souls to snarl, and retaliate, for “enough is enough”, evil-minded White supremacists will have nowhere to run. South Africa is the omega, you see.
Nelson Mandela did not sell South Africa to Whites. Nelson Mandela did not sell South Africa to imperialist capital. In line with the unique humane and spiritual magnanimity of South African people, Nelson Mandela chose to swallow camels so that you and I can be here today, living happily ever after in our beloved Mzansi fo sho, inspite of its imperfections. Remember, effects of apartheid venom include diminished sense of empathy, leading to extreme levels of selfishness, self-centredness, including loss of responsibility for one’s own actions as manifested time and time again in certain, and various leadership cabals in the country.
Thanks to Nelson Mandela, when the rest of the world will be left in shambles and rumbles, South Africa will still be here, standing tall. Unlike today, though, there won’t be much space for all, as South Africa will still be a peaceful sanctuary for the lucky few who manage to escape ravages of wars in their own countries of origin. The omega is like the last full stop of a great book. Very, very tiny point. At this point, it’ll be ON! with the switch of darkness. No more smiles, no more love, no more reconciliation. Bye-bye, beloved Bishop Tutu. Time for the Black Cat to rise and strike back. I feel for the progeny of the short-sighted, evil-minded White supremacists people, who refuse to recover from their own apartheid venom ingestion symtoms. As I see it, their children’s future may be very black, indeed. But there is still time, there is still room for change. There is still, as it was in the beginning, hope. Democracy fixes most things, if given a chance.
Read also: A comprehensive guide to white privilege in South Africa
Tel: +27 717 454 115
October 14, 2013
Speaking about an ill Nelson Mandela and South Africa on Norwegian TV2 end of June 2013, I was asked about the condition of Whites in South Africa: Do they have anything to fear for their future in the country?
I answered that if nothing happened in 1994, nothing is ever going to happen to them. South African Whites must just stay at home because they are needed for their knowledge and skills in the process of growth and development of the country. I went on to say that despite the much talked about problem of corruption and other manifestations of good governance inadequacies in the country, democracy was now firmly ingrained in the more open, and free post-apartheid South African society. Indeed, the high and mighty in the state apparatus will in the short to medium term stretch the law when exposed of their corrupt practices and other vices. But in the long run, processes as provided for, and backed by, relevant democratic institutions and organs will insure that all law breakers will be caught, and shall be punished accordingly if found guilty in legally instituted courts of law.
South African Whites have nothing but their own fears of the unknown to fear. I cannot think of anybody in the current political dispensation sitting somewhere plotting, alone or together with others, the annihilation of the White Race in South Africa. Private, for purposes of this discourse, Black South Africans, despite their horrendous pre-1994 history, have other real and current issues to worry about than driving White South Africans out to sea and disappear: Poor Service Delivery, Child Abuse, Violence Against Women. Chances are higher by far that at this very moment a child is being brutally molested, and a dejected lover is killing a woman who doesn’t love him anymore.
Despite the rather characteristically loud, small-scale populist rhetoric which South African democracy necessarily allows adequate room for, there is no single landowner whose land shall be repossessed without compensation, where applies. To the extent that conventional paper work pertaining to land and property ownership is in order, appropriate laws, as well as conventional business negotiations methods shall be followed to subsequent mutual satisfaction of all parties concerned. At its most elegant, democracy works systematically and orderly. Choosing to ignore democratic principles and processes would only lead to chaos, and, at worst, war and total disintegration of the gracious Rainbow Nation of South Africa. Free South Africans with nothing to fear have no time for wars and destruction. This country is just too beautiful to burn alive in pursuit of selfish ends driven by ignorance of the functionings of modern, progressive societies.
People die. People are killed all the time. Criminals kill people. From the outset, we are all equally vulnerable to hideousness of crime. What differentiates us is how security/ safety conscious or non-conscious we are. Who is better security/ safety conscious than White South Africans? No one does it better. South African Whites are trendsetters when it comes to aspects and intricacies of personal, home and property security and safety preventive measures. The security and protection industry in South Africa is dominated by White operators. Many of these are fearsome, effective, and good, in so far as prevention, and apprehension go. For my own personal relative peaceful sleep at night, I have engaged the Surveillance and Protection Service of a White-owned armed-response security firm. Not because they are White first and foremost, but simply because they are good at what they do. Superlative reputation. Excellent service. Pure business considerations paramount. Works for me. So far so good. In a perfect world, the Police would focus more attention to protecting and safeguarding the needs of the less fortunate and less resourceful in the wider society. The poor get killed. The poor kill each other like flies.
But people die. People are still killed by criminals, small-times, as well as hard-core professionals. This may well be my last blog entry, as I might wake up murdered tomorrow morning. Indiscriminate spate of robberies in my neighbourhood lately. White, Black, purple, green, yellow, blue, maroon people, all concerned. Security companies working overtime. Soon, somebody has to be shot down. Smell of blood in the air. Criminal. Black. Dead. Happy then?
Ultimately, I believe, it’s not necessarily about how big, high, and strong are the walls of your electric-fenced fortresses. It’s not about how many guns you carry on you. It’s not about how many bulletproof vests you wear on your body. It’s about our attitudes to other people out in the big, wide world. It’s about how you relate to people. In my view, many people will do extreme things to protect and preserve their sense of humanity and personal integrity. Unfortunately, it is an observable phenomenon on a daily basis that many a White-South-African-with-nothing-but-his/ her-own-fear-to-fear can be extremely rude and arrogant towards other people, Blacks for our purposes here. These rather special White South Africans are still caught up in the shackles of out-dated, White Supremacist Apartheid South Africa.
Reality is that South Africa will never go back to the old days of White Supremacist Apartheid. Despite the often-sighted fallibilities and inadequacies of the current political leadership in the country, ordinary South Africans of all shades, shapes, sizes, and orientations have tasted the sweet nectar of Democracy. The fibre of Democratic Values and Principles is now firmly intertwined in the psyche of the majority of ordinary South Africans. White-South-Africans-with-nothing-but-their-own-fears-to-fear, and others like them, better get used to this reality. Those who would rather leave the country in protest will find that it’s not any better abroad. Stay home, contribute to making this beloved country of ours the peaceful haven of co-existence you dream of. For all.
You want to live a long, prosperous, and happy life in Rainbow Nation South Africa, and indeed, the world anywhere? Simple: Just be nice to people! Now, that’s not so much to ask, yes?
Tel: +27 717 454 115
October 11, 2013
August 30, 2013
African dictators and despots are exactly at a place they ought to be on earth. Africa is a natural haven for autocratic rulers. As reportedly the oldest people on earth, Africans must for generations have persevered and survived such awesome battering from nature that fear of, and reverence for, power, authority, and influence come as second nature to them. So, if you are a person of ethical standards and moral values divergent from definition of the same in the progressive world of freedom, justice, and democracy, you have a free hand to dominate and destroy your land and your people’s natural aspirations for a good life of abundance, comfort, safety, and infinite prospects for growth, development, and prosperity. Just be atrociously brutal and effective in dealing with those of your people reluctant to acknowledge and follow your pathetic rule and leadership style. Kill them in cold blood, and feed their corpses to the dogs. Much like nature in the beginning, and subsequent conquerors from other parts of the world, colonizers, did before your time. Works all the time. If your land lacks any specially value adding material and other attributes to the rest of the world, nobody will give a hoot.
Africans truly love their culture. Primitive, timeless culture. The oldest instrument of social organization and control on earth. A culture which remained static and closed-minded while the rest of mankind later moved on, finding ever new and better ways of organizing society, and providing for its basic needs as effectively and efficiently as possible. It is in fact this adamant adherence to obsolete elements of this slow, non-changing culture in modern times, which is attributable to the prevalence of blatantly arrogant, defiant, and sustained human rights abuses across Africa.
It’s really simple to have, and assume power in Africa, as facilitated by archaic aspects of African culture. Just be special, for example. Just do something so special and extra-ordinary it sets you apart from the rest of your contemporaries and counterparts.
Though not necessarily an absolute pre-requisite, you can start first by being born No. 1 child in your family. Have your position, and its attendant privileges and entitlements explained and justified as a God-given right, according to the wishes, predictions, and prescriptions of your ancestors. The stage is set, then.
In Africa, God by definition is an extension of, and larger than, nature, larger than life. Ancestors are intermediaries between God and nature. So, what this holy trinity has designed and put in place, let no man put asunder, lest God’s super mean lightening strikes. No one knows, and dreads, the wrath of God more than an African. The Bible, for all intents and purposes, may well have originally been written with Africans in mind. The likes of David Livingstone’s bosses understood this well. Africa, unite in poverty and misery in the name of God as inscribed in your obsolete primitive culture.
To consolidate your position as a despotic/ dictatorial leader/ ruler in Africa, you must use God and ancestral spirits to the maximum. If you cannot exhibit supernatural abilities and talents, surround yourself with loyalists who can do all this on your behalf. Just make sure to have something on them, such that they cannot turn against you. Deal instantly, with razor sharp effective and precise brutality against even the slightest sign of disloyalty. Rule by extreme fear, just like God. Act and behave exactly like the chosen one sent by God to save the people on earth from undoings of their own inherently evil nature. Amen.
And then there is the Dependency Syndrome so endemic in African culture. Patronage has, therefore, fertile ground in Africa. When you are special and extra-ordinary by virtue of certain unique attributes about you, you may have been born in royalty and/ or great wealth, African culture will put you on a pedestal. If you are a power and adulation freak, this is just the place for you, despot/ dictator. Reward your fans accordingly, and never forget to have strings on them for they are your God-given puppets. Sustain this, and your position is guaranteed for life. Elections? What’s that? Since your position is very safe given the fact that you have no real threat because, if they are not all dead and fed to the crocodiles, many of your serious and real detractors have fled from their beloved land, you’ll perform an elaborate symbolic show of “credible, free, and fair elections” for the naïve world watching from abroad.
Dependency Syndrome destroys a people’s self-reliance potential growth, development, and practice. People grow up with the knowledge, and taking it for granted, that someone more resourceful and stronger will always cover up for their own shortcomings and shortfalls: Guardian Angels. People grow up knowing little, or nothing at all, about taking charge of their own lives, or becoming responsible for the directions of destiny their own lives will take in the long run. They grow up believing that the world owes it to them to make it all right for them always. These people go through life dreaming, hoping, believing, and expecting that, for example:
- “My father will buy me a farm one day. He promised …
- The government must give me a job and a house soon, I supported Mandela, you know …
- My sister is a Doctor, she’ll give me the money I need, no problem …
- The President is an uncle of my friend’s wife’s step’s sister on the mother’s side of the great-grandfather’s tenth wife’s second cousin, so we’ll get the tender, hopefully …
- Eish, if my ex gets a place for me at university overseas, you can talk to your brother to talk to the bank for air ticket bucks, neh? It’s quite cheap these days, you know! Someone told me they read somewhere that somebody said something about South African Airways scholarships…” on and on, and on, and … M-Yawwwn!!! Getting a headache.
These are some of the most valuable people as potential loyal supporters of African autocratic rulers. Play with tenets of outdated African culture (e.g. fear, revere, God, ancestors, the powerful, the high and mighty, kings/ queens, and others, no matter what), entice, and entangle them in the ruler’s patronage net. Game done. Enduring death of democracy in ever backsliding dictatorial/ despotic/ autocratic Africa in the box. Signed, sealed and delivered. Hallelujah!
Tel: +27 717 454 115
August 25, 2013