December 25, 2022
Happy birthday, Jesus! But more importantly, happy birthday, me! Today I am … wait, let me go fetch my calculator. Born in 1959 and today is 2022 so that makes me, um, 3981 years old. Nee man. That can’t be right. Ah, okay. I must subtract. So 1959 minus … ag fok. What a time for the batteries to run out.
Anyway. It matters not. The main thing is that it is my birthday. And the Lord’s birthday too. When I was small I used to think it was unfair of my parents to make my birthday on the same day as Jesus because I would only get one lot of presents and then nothing for another whole year.
But then one Sunday in the Dutch Reformed Church in Zeerust, I was praying (my mother kept elbowing me in the ribs because she thought I was fidgeting but I was actually praying) I had what is called an epipiny. I can’t remember what the dominee was talking about but it must have jolted something in my brain because suddenly I realised I was special for sharing a birthday with Jesus. Like, really special. Chosen.
Anybody who knows me well will know that I am a bit like Jesus. And not just because of the birthday thing either. I have very strong morals, so did He. I have a beard, so did He. He spoke Aramaic, I speak Afrikaans.
Anyway, I am going out with my beautiful wife, Noluthando, to celebrate. I wanted to wear my uniform but Nolu said camouflage wasn’t right for the occasion. I said Jesus was a soldier too but there was no arguing with her. Women! She went and fetched me a new Pep shirt I had been saving for a special occasion.
I made her wear a blindfold because I was taking her somewhere she had never been and wanted it to be a surprise. When I took the blindfold off her and she saw we were at the Wimpy at the airport, she shed a few tears and had to go to the bathroom to collect herself. I love to make my wife happy.
I feel like I should go to church today and give thanks for everything I have and especially everything I don’t have. Like membership of the bloody ANC.
I sent an email last night after we got back from the Wimpy telling them that I was resigning. I got an email back saying I could not resign because I had already been expelled. This is nonsense. I sent another email saying I rejected the expulsion, which of course meant I could resign.
I gave these people everything. Obviously when I say these people I don’t mean black people. I still love black people. In fact, I am a black people in a white skin. My comrades even gave me a black name. Mpangazitha. It means he who is worshipped by the people. Or something.
I sacrificed my life for the ANC. I gave up my freedom. If it wasn’t for me, there would still be apartheid in this country. I was one of the main liberators and what thanks do I get? Nothing. I get a kick in the teeth.
I burned my membership card this morning before Nolu had even woken up. I went outside and made a fire in the outdoor braai there on the patio. I set alight my old copies of Sechaba magazine and then, singing Nkosi sikele’ iAfrika with my fist high in the air, I threw my card into the flames. It wasn’t easy. I was a member for a very long time. And it cost me a lot to be a member. I am not just talking about the R20 a year membership fee, but even that was quite a lot, especially when I came out of jail.
Last week those backstabbers expelled me from the party. They said I brought the ANC into disrepute because of what I said in Nkandla outside comrade Jacob’s house. Thank God for comrade Jacob. This man will stand by my side for all eternity. Well, I will stand by his side. He is too important to be following me around standing by my side.
One thing I do know, I WILL HAVE REVENGE!!!!
My neighbour complained about me singing at 5am. He told ADT that he was woken up by what sounded like someone strangling a cat but then realised it was Nkosi sikele iAfrika and thought the uprising had started so he pressed his panic button and the security guards came around and found me toyi-toying around my outdoor braai and asked me to keep it down.
I still can’t believe the ANC expelled me. VENGEANCE WILL BE MINE!!! But first, lunch. I said I would take Nolu’s parents somewhere nice for a meal. I knew where I wanted to take them but before I could say anything, Nolu said she would kill me if I took them to the Wimpy at the airport. It’s like she can read my mind! Still, I can understand that she would want that to be our special place.
It is New Year’s Eve and I determined to have a good time. I will forgot about what my movement has done to me and I will celebrate the end of a horrible year and the birth of what will be the best year ever. Well, maybe not the best year ever. The best year was the one when I realised that God wasn’t going to smite me if I had sex without getting married first. Man, what a year that was! I only let Jansie get out of bed when it was time to make me dinner. I love sex almost as much as I love Jesus. And that’s A LOT!!! Poor Jansie. I wonder how she is doing. Does she miss me? Of course she does. What girl wouldn’t? But I had to let her go. We were so young when we went to jail. But she couldn’t keep up when we got out. She was still the same old Jansie and I was just getting more and more famous. I think it is fair to say I was the face of the struggle. Well, obviously Madiba was the actual face, but I was a part of that face. I was maybe Madiba’s nose. Or an ear.
Tonight I am going to do all the things! I want to go wild! I want to dance and drink a beer or maybe even two and make love to my darling wife. All at the same time! I can do anything because I am MPANGAZITHA!!!
Well, that was a bit of a damp squid. I was all ready to go out and party last night. I even made a special camouflage face mask for the occasion. I thought it would be nice to ask my mother to make it for me because she is almost as good as me at sewing but I think I caught her at the wrong time of the month because she just started crying and then my father came on the line and asked what I had said to upset my mother and I started telling him about the camouflage mask and the party I was going to, which made me think of the party I want to form, so I began telling him about that but the phone went dead. They have this problem with their Telkom line whenever I call them. When I am president, I will make sure Telkom is taken over by the masses. Amandla!
I told Nolu this morning that I had decided to find a new home. Then I went to the shop to buy some bacon so that she can make me breakfast, which she loves to do. When I got back, she was in the bedroom with three suitcases on the bed packing all my clothes. I was very confused but then she explained that she thought I was going to be moving into my new home and wanted to give me a hand. She is so thoughtful. When I told her that I was talking about a new political home, she sat on the bed and cried for a bit. Poor girl. That’s how relieved she was that I wasn’t going anywhere. I shook her hand and promised that I would be with her for the rest of her life. That made her cry even more. I am very lucky to be loved so much.
I told Nolu this morning that I am going to make a Movement. She said we were out of toilet paper and went and fetched me a box of tissues. Sometimes I think we don’t speak the same language. Which we don’t. Anyway, love is a universal language. That’s good enough for me.
I began telling her about the Radical Economic Transformation Movement but five minutes later I saw her car reversing out of the driveway. Going to get toilet paper, probably. She’s a good woman.
I signed up five new members to the RET Movement today! At this rate, Msholozi will invite me to Nkandla for tea one of these days.
Obviously I am the Chairman of the Movement because I started it. And also there is only one Mpangazitha!! I have been making approaches to some of my fellow revolutionaries, like Julius Malema, to see if they want to join forces with me. I have left 17 messages for Julius but he has not called back. Maybe he has a new number. I will get my secretary to check. Note to self: hire secretary.
I have launched my new party! It is called the African Radical Economic Transformation Alliance. I hope it is not too long to fit on a T-shirt. Or even the ballot paper. Yes, my plan is to contest elections under the banner of the AFRAECTRAL! Nolu suggested I should just use the first letter instead of the first two letters of each word, which probably does make sense. So our anacronym will be ARETA. It has a ring to it.
I called a press conference today to launch my new party and journalists actually came! Usually these demons just make fun of me but today I could see they were listening and writing notes. It is about time I was taken seriously. One reporter asked if I had any words for Cyril Ramaphosa.
Plenty of words, I said, but none of them can be printed in a family newspaper. That got a laugh. I must use that line more often. But because I actually wanted them to print my words in their stupid newspapers, I had to come up with something.
So I told them the ANC had betrayed South Africans. There was a stunned reaction, I can tell you. I know because everyone went silent. That is a good sign of being stunned. If you stun anything, even a cow, you won’t hear it making moo sounds. It was hard for me to talk about the ANC betraying South Africans because I was a member for a very long time and also the party did liberate us from apartheid but I didn’t want to mention this.
I told them that under Ramaphosa, there had been “a total ideological hollowing out of the ANC”. I thought that was a very good quote. This is why I am quoting myself here.
I also said that we would expropriate land without compensation. Nolu said last night that maybe I should leave that bit out because it might scare the farmers and if they all emigrate we won’t have any food. That’s my Nolu! Always thinking of her stomach. I patted her on the head and offered to make her a cheese and tomato sarmie. She laughed and pretended to pinch my leg but it was quite sore and I wouldn’t be surprised to see a bruise there tomorrow.
Anyway, I also told the reporters that my party would nationalise the Reserve Bank, implement the National Health Insurance and end load-shedding by nationalising all the coal mines. I paused for applause but it seemed everyone was still too stunned.
I was a bit surprised that none of my top grade comrades were there. I really expected to see Jacob Zuma and Ace Magashule there. I mean, every time they appear in court on trumped up charges, I am there with my placard in my nicely pressed trousers and a new shirt. I expect they were too busy to come. Still, they could have let me know they weren’t coming. I hope they are not going to turn into Ramaphosas.
Anyway. Viva ARETAS viva! Long live ARETAS! Amandla! Pamberi ne chimurenga! Aluta continua! Victoria e certa! Amandla! Phansi ANC phansi!
Oops. Apparently I was shouting while I was typing and ADT came around again. I will have to sort that neighbour out. I bet he is a DA supporter. Bloody white people.