Dear Honourable Comrade Commander-in-Chief,
Congratulations on landing once again with your bum firmly in the butter.
If sheltered employment is what you’re looking for, you could do a lot worse than parliament. Hell, for a million rand a year, I’d also dress up in a fire engine red onesie and shiny plastic hat.
To be honest, I’m not sure red is your best colour. Sure, it brings out your eyes. But it makes you look … how can I put this sensitively? It makes you look fat. Enormous. If you were a Teletubby, even Tinky Winky would suggest you go on a diet.
At least you’re in good company. If all 400 MPs had to jump up and down at the same time, the earth would be knocked off its axis and we’d all go spinning off into space. But, as they rightly point out, they’re not to blame. It’s the food that’s served in parliament. Too much, too good, too free to resist.
The expression on President Zuma’s face was classic. It varied between, “What the hell am I doing here?” and “What the hell is he doing here?” I bet he never saw that day coming when he engineered your banishment from the ANC.
You’re going to make him and the others pay, aren’t you? Oh, yes. You most certainly are. By the time you’ve finished settling your grudges, the rich will be poor and the poor will be rich. At which point, the poor will go back to being poor.
You were making a good point about the importance of white people learning to speak an African language until someone stood up at the back and asked why you were speaking in the language of the colonial oppressor. What an idiot. Had he forgotten that you wrote rule number one? Never leave home without your race card. Well done. You certainly put him in his place, which, as far as I could tell, is on a sheep farm in 1948.
You accused Zuma of being afraid of white people. That’s not entirely fair. Most of the world is afraid of white people. You also suggested he was intimidated by white monopoly capital. Monopoly money isn’t real. You do know that, right? Once you’re president, you can make it legal tender. But until then, let’s learn to tell the difference between political games and board games.
I liked the way you dealt with Thandi Modise, the chairperson of the National Council of Provinces. Sure, she was chairing the debate, but first and foremost she is a woman and should know better than to talk back to a man of your considerable stature. She’s a cheeky one, make no mistake. You’ll have to keep her on a short leash in future.
And the next time someone shouts, “Order!” while you are talking, you know what to say. “Make mine a double.”
Oh, yes. Well done on calling for that statue of Louis Botha on a horse to be removed and thrown into the dustbin of history. I don’t like horses at the best of times and have never understood the need to commemorate them in such a public way. I don’t care who is sitting on its back. Get rid of it.
Anyway, good luck for your trial in September. Many of your honourable colleagues in parliament are in some way or another involved in fraud, corruption, racketeering or money laundering and they’ll never see the inside of a courtroom. Learn from them.