No safe harbour for Gigaba

Dear Comrade Malusi Gigaba, Honourable Upstanding Member, Minister of Affairs, Fighter of Tourism, Epitome of Sartorial Elegance.

Congratulations on your spectacular cinematic debut, even though it was very short. Needless to say, that’s the only thing about your appearance that was short. A week ago, critics were calling for your head and saying you should be bloody well hung. Then your video came out. That shut them up.

I had no intention of viewing your scandalous ménage à un, but a so-called friend mailed it, unbidden, to me. I am pleased to say that I never watched it. Not because I have Tanzanian tendencies when it comes to homoerotic flights of fancy, but because I find the male member an unsightly brute at the best of times. In my opinion, the best of times are when he is sound asleep, curled up like an infant pangolin. Besides which, should I ever desire to see a willy, I only need remove my trousers and look in a mirror. Or, if there is no mirror and the urge takes me, the glass frontage of, say, Mr Price at my local mall. For instance.

Unfortunately, my eyes did fall upon the frozen first image of the video. And even though I refrained from pressing play, it was enough. Having been led to believe that alcohol damages one’s short-term memory, I have been drinking heavily ever since. Not least to forget my inadequacies. My Sir Lancelot is a pale imitation. More pale than imitation, I am sorry to say. Do you have a name for that combat-ready heat-seeking missile? If not, might I suggest Mubi Dick?

Anyway. That is quite enough of that.

Of more pressing concern is your imminent political demise. By demise, I obviously mean promotion. It is a venerable ANC tradition to reward its most shameless and irredeemably exposed cadres with new career opportunities, usually in the diplomatic corps.

You appear to have upset some powerful people, my friend. I am obviously not referring to me or the other 57 million South Africans. We have no power. Well, we do, but we don’t really know what to do with it because we are saturated with either ignorance, apathy or alcohol. Oftentimes, all three. The unholy trinity.

No, I am talking about shadowy organisations like the Oppenheimer Cartel. These upper class thugs trade openly in diamonds while the rest of us go to jail if we so much as attempt to trade the last of our uncut emeralds for beer.

When you were in charge of public enterprises, you handed Eskom, Transnet and Denel to the Gupta Cartel. These Indians, they are not even dangerous men. My advice is that you do not mess with Don Nicky ‘Fireblade’ Oppenheimer. If he wants his own airport, give it to him. Give him whatever he wants. He is white and rich. History has shown that this an unbeatable combination.

Why on earth has Public Protector Busisiwe ‘Zuma Is Innocent’ Mkhwebane turned against you in the aviation matter? This is a woman who was trained to defend her comrades at all costs, and yet she has chosen to run with the fox and hunt with the hounds. Quite frankly, I don’t know if you are the fox or the hound. It’s a British expression. Nobody ever knows what they mean. It’s why we murdered them at Isandlwana.

Apparently a parliamentary portfolio committee has come up with a draft report saying you should be criminally investigated on suspicion of having been captured by the Guptas. This is outrageous. If the Guptas had indeed captured you, surely you would right now be tied up in a fur-lined dungeon in downtown Dubai while Atul the Dominator disciplined you with an ivory-handled camelhair whip. Instead, here you are, wandering about of your own free willy in the finest of suits, conducting government business, shaking hands, kissing babies, issuing denials and, in your evenings, remaking classics like Onan the Barbarian.

Somebody has poisoned our water supply with cynicism because nobody believes a word you say, but I drink beer, not water, so I believe you when you say there is an orchestrated campaign to ruin your career and prevent you from becoming president. To be hounded and condemned by much of the executive, a fair portion of the legislature, every level of the judiciary and virtually every man, woman and child in the country is the very definition of an orchestrated campaign.

I don’t know how they think they can get away with it.

Your response to this campaign of evil was sublime. “I am going to consult my lawyers in terms of how I am going to respond to this.” Even the most hardened of conspirators will tremble at the thought of your imminent consultations.

It is truly tragic when you consider that none of this would be happening if Nkosazana Dlamini-Zuma hadn’t been pipped at the post by Squirrel Ramaphosa. The man is a menace. Where does he think he is? Sweden? This is Africa, for heaven’s sake. A continent where every silver lining has a cloud, every dog its day and every cart its rotten apples. In flagrant contravention of tradition, Squirrel is giving every indication of being one of those aberrant leaders who think that upsetting apple carts is a good idea.

Is it true that you are refusing to resign? Of course it is. I would expect nothing less. To the barricades! No Retreat, No Surrender is not just a movie. It is the story of your life. You are the black Jean-Claude Van Damme of our time. All you need is better lighting. And maybe a plausible script.

You said you are “surrounded by militant comrades” who will defend you. I do hope you are referring to more than just the avocado-shaped Andile Mngxitama and his drunk, shouty friends.

If not, you might want to consider a Plan B. You are, after all, the Minister of Home Affairs. You get to decide who is a South African and who isn’t. Who may stay and who should leave. Do you see what I am saying? All you need do is declare your enemies persona non grata. Get a courier to take a letter over to the Union Buildings first thing in the morning, letting the president know that his citizenship has been revoked. Include an air ticket to Cairo. Economy class, obviously. The man should suffer at least once in his life.

Should you consider my advice sound and good, I hereby register myself as an enemy forthwith and request immediate deportation to a country with warm weather, cheap beer, good surf and plenty of sloths.

The right to bare arms (and everything else)

Public Protector Busisiwe Mkhwebane has ruled against a proposed nudist-friendly beach on the KZN South Coast. As everyone knows, public nudity is a far greater threat to South Africa than, say, state capture.
Rev Mike Effanga, leader of the group that opposed the idea, welcomed her decision. “Laws are informed by morality and if you break the laws, you are offending morality.” The group took their fight to the public protector after the local council approved the application for a nudist beach by “relaxing” relevant by-laws.
“They should have told the nudists to go be naked in their bathrooms like everybody else,” squealed the reverend.
Here’s a letter I wrote in 2015 to the man who saved our souls.
 
Dear Reverend Mike Effanga,
I wish to applaud you on behalf of all right-wing, I beg your pardon, right-thinking South Africans for your efforts to stop those backsliding nudist barbarians from getting their wicked way.
As you know all too well, the Hibiscus Coast municipality – quite clearly agents of Satan – voted last year to allow people to take their clothes off on a beach in your area. Unfortunately, they chose a section that is hidden away and hard to reach. This makes it difficult for those who wish to protest. Luckily, there are many of us who are prepared to go out of our way to be offended.
This country has only 2 800kms of coastline. If we give these heathens 500m of it to practise their degenerate sun-worshipping ways, where will it end?
Cape Town allows nudists at Sandy Bay and look at that city today. Gay people walk openly in the streets. We don’t need that kind of wanton licentiousness here.
If God had meant for us to walk around naked, he wouldn’t have given Adam and Eve those fig leaf ensembles to wear. The unadorned human body is a disturbing sight and I, for one, can no longer even visit my local swimming pool for fear of turning into a slavering beast incapable of controlling my most basic of urges.
I cannot believe these handmaidens of hell are planning their naked launch for Good Friday. Jesus wouldn’t be happy with that, I can tell you. Isn’t it enough that he has to deal with yet another anniversary of his crucifixion? I may be wrong but I’m sure he’d rather we just stopped mentioning it altogether.
I’m talking about that nasty business in Calgary. Nudist beaches, I bet he’d want to know about. What am I saying? Of course he knows about it. He’s Jesus. And if he didn’t get the memo, you can be damn sure his Father knows of the horror about to be unleashed upon Mpenjati beach.
I must confess there are times I walk around my house without any clothes on. It is simply too hot. However, you will be pleased to know that I do punish myself afterwards with a light flagellation followed by several Bloody Marys.
Nudity, unlike murder, poverty and child abuse, is not something we can tolerate. If we allow people to voluntarily remove their clothes on a beach far away from decent God-fearing folk, what will we allow next? Seances in the Margate Wimpy?
While you are on this crusade, have you given any thought to the farm animal situation? I’m sure I am not the only one to have noticed the growing number of cows along the South Coast. I think you know what I’m saying. Udders. I need go no further.
Once you have won this battle against the idolatrous undressed, I urge you to consider demanding clothes for livestock. It need not be anything fancy. Simple loincloths and four-cupped bras will do.
I understand you run an outfit called Worldwide Gospel Ministries. Your website has an interesting quote from Luke. “Blessed are those servants whom the Lord, when he cometh, shall find watching.” That’s exactly what the nudists are afraid of – Peeping Toms.
It goes on. “Verily, I say unto you that he shall gird himself, and make them sit down to meat, and will come forth and serve them.”
I’m a bit confused here. Luke clearly wasn’t a vegetarian. But the Lord serves the servants? That doesn’t sound right. Imagine if this happened in South Africa. The servants would be ungovernable in no time at all.
In your ministerial profile you state your nationality as “Kingdom of Heaven.” Nothing wrong with that. Presumably you have your citizenship papers. I imagine the home affairs office up there is more efficient than the one down here.
Your website says that apart from healing the sick and broken-hearted, you also bring sight back to the blind. You are truly a man of many talents. What would you do if, say, one of those rotten nudists was sick, broken-hearted and blind? Tricky one.
I see you have 18 friends on Facebook. That’s okay. Jesus only had 12.
Anyway, congratulations on getting the pagans on the council to agree to listen to your objections for a second time. As you said recently, “The voice of the people has to be heard. The decision to have a nudist beach here is illegal, immoral, unethical and undemocratic.”
And therein lies the rub. Oops. I apologise. “Rub” is one of those words which, if used carelessly, can lead to the corruption of weaker souls. It won’t happen again.
What I’m trying to say is that it takes a wise man to point out that a decision taken by a majority of democratically elected councillors is, indeed, undemocratic. Some might say the voice of the people has been heard, but, as we both know, they are the wrong people. Not all people are people.
Well, I’m sure you and your Concerned Citizens Group will succeed in denying the Devil his due. Nobody wants to be cast into the hellfires of eternal damnation, even if they are politicians.
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