The Magic Of 7: Of Machesa-Rocking Pastors And The Announcement

The number 7 was just another number. That is until a week ago when it was yanked from a seeming Rip van Winkle slumber (not the person). Historically the number 7 features only at casinos where a trio of these can win you a jackpot in those family-fragmenting machines and ward off divorce proceedings against you.

One local pastor gave the state president 7 days to resign.

I thought this was very unfair to the President. The Office of the President is not something you can vacate in 7 days. If this was a little officer in government, it would take clearing your table of some memos you have failed to attend to, a few rusty staples and a moody stapler which works some of the time, a laptop, a cracked coffee mug, a little framed photo and a calendar from a company that is constantly trying to bribe you but can only afford a calendar. In the President’s case, it is much more complex than finding a vaccine for COVID-19.

There will be desks (not one desk) to clear, officers to be cleared, SADC presidents to inform, AU presidents to inform, a package to discuss as well as discussing implications to the boards you sit on. Presidents have multiple shareholding and sit on several boards. So 7 days is a tad too tight.

Obviously the pastor will feature in the evening news in those mystery-dashed reports that go something like, “The police have arrested a man in his late 40s suspected to be a pas- tor. It is suspected the man was walking to Parliament in what the police suspect are machesa (shoes that are never worn by pastors anywhere around the globe).”

To enlighten the less street savvy, machesa are those little shoes made famous by Kwaito artists. Anybody wearing this type of shoe is usually grossly misunderstood and the police are quick to drag them to the charge office and stick some charge of sorts on them. Which is what happened to the pastor. Police. Detention.

Many were prepared to put this away in the interesting COVID-19 drama file. To be precise, we were actually prepared to incinerate it in the Bat swan a forget easily furnace. It, however, ruptured and out popped more drama.

A one ‘chevron-ranked’ police officer possibly sensing an opportunity to impress his bosses, tussled with one of the pastor’s supporters in an attempt to validate his wrestling skills. It didn’t go down that well and he ended up a hashtag and a meme. That should go down in history as an opportunity spurned.

The pastor’s place of abode for the night was a place very far away from the main mall where he was arrested. Usually a suspect is detained within the area where they are arrested. Not this pastor! He was shepherded some 70km away to Mm-mathubudukwane. Could it be this was 7 police stations away? I mean to go with the week of 7s. I am not so sure but it could well be.

Up until then, Mmathubudukwane was a sleepy village close to the South African border but thanks to a visionary police force it was pushed onto headlines – something that would probably boost tourism business in the village. I can clearly see an excited tour guide saying “This is the place where they detained that famous Pastor Thuso Tiego” – shades of Robben Island where prisons are tourist attractions. Political prisoners to be precise and in the pastor’s case it was construed as such. Misconstrued perhaps because of machesa. Again! Clearly the system has not cleansed itself of stereotypes!

More drama unfolded as the following day the pastor was released with no charge. Read that again. None. The drama epilogued with something like ‘Goodbye pastor. Was nice knowing you. Please pray for us. And hey your shoes tricked us’.

There was a positive 7 though on the horizon. His Excellency Mokgweetsi Eric Keabetswe Masisi made THE announcement. The most anticipated one. Alcohol ban will be lifted on September 7. The ‘For Sale’ signs went up at the bootleggers’ joints. And here I am not talking 10% off sales.

The discounts would be at around 50-70%. The arrival of the 400,000 vaccines was overshadowed by THE announcement. Who has time for that when there’s a serious matter of dusting off the cobwebs from cooler-boxers and get proper outfits for that long, snaky Liquorama queue which follows every lifting of the liquor ban? Queuing up after an alcohol ban is a ritual that most take seriously. Everybody should!

(For comments, feedback and insults email inkspills1969@gmail.com)