Dear Comrade Jacob Gedleyihlekisa Zuma the First, by the Grace of God President of the Republic of South Africa, Head of the Household, Defender of the Faith, Pastor of the Flock, Defeater of the Mbeki, Unifier of the Nation, Msholozi of Msholozis, Lord of All the Beasts of the Earth and Fishes of the Sea, Conqueror of the Apartheid Regime and Owner of Property in Nkandla, I hereby greet you.
First, allow me to congratulate you on your magnificent performance in parliament the other day. You must have studied drama at some point in your life because your range is astounding. It’s not everyone who can so realistically portray a serious statesman one minute and a giggling halfwit the next. You’re clearly a master of the Chekhov technique, making good use of imagination and gestures to get your point across.
I am aware that you never read the reviews, but you might want to know that you do have your detractors. Actually, forget I mentioned it. These people wouldn’t know the difference between Shakespeare and Shakes Mashaba. You are, after all, not performing in the house of the Capulets. This is the house of the ANC. As the star and director, you need to have a word with those playing opposite you. I don’t think Mmusi Maimane even went to acting school. It doesn’t look like he is pretending at all. Perhaps you should have a word with him. Explain that the point of parliament is to simply put on a good show for the millions of extras at home watching on the telly. Well, those who can afford tellies. And who haven’t emigrated.
It’s a damn good thing the extras aren’t given a speaking role in this movie of yours. The chaos would be unimaginable if they were required to do anything more complicated than vote every five years. And they can’t even get that right.
You have obviously watched Mad Max: Fury Road. Where else would you be getting your ideas on how to run a country? I think it works. Tyrannical cult leader Immortan Jacob and Furioso Baleka take on Mad Zille in a desert wasteland where civilisation has collapsed and petrol, electricity and water are scarce. We don’t even have to wait for the future – it’s already happening. The money we save on props can be spent on bolsering security at your home. How about a nice surround sound theatre system? Or a gold-plated Jacuzzi for each of the wives? What about a subterranean bondage club for the livestock? I bet the cows are into leather and whips and stuff.
By the way, well done on ridding the National Prosecuting Authority of that troublesome Mxolisi Nxasana. I’m sure you derived little pleasure from punishing him with a R17-million payout. But it’s his own fault. He asked for it. That reminds me of something Karl Marx once said: “Those are my principles, and if you don’t like them … well, I have others.”
How about these Catholics? What a nerve, describing the expenditure on your modest home as “morally indefensible”. The Inquisition was morally indefensible. The Crusades were morally indefensible. Priestly paedophilia is morally indefensible. They should smite the log in their own eye before getting stoned in glass houses. Why not buy them out, like you did the Nxasana quisling? Okay, the Church is worth around R200-billion so they might not need your money – our money. Perhaps you could offer the Pope timeshare at Nkandla. The Vatican’s security features aren’t up to scratch, or so I’ve heard, and I’m sure the old chap would fancy a dip in the fire pool before blessing the natives.
All this talk of money is making me aroused. Excuse me while I take a quick shower. Phew. That’s better. Anyway, back to money. I heard you’ve paid out more than R150-million this year alone to people you appointed in recent years who disappointed you with their insufferable honesty and irresponsible attitude towards the truth. So here’s what I’m thinking. You put me in a top position and, in a year or so, I’ll start suggesting that you should be investigated and we’ll split the golden handshake. What do you think? It works for me.