When striking it lucky comes out in the wash
IHAVE just won another competition. This time the prize is R475 000 and the competition is sponsored by a well-known washing powder company. I suppose anybody who has a computer or smartphone is used to winning huge sums of money. I have also been notified that a distant relative in England has passed away and mentioned me in his will. It’s so sad I never knew him. It’s quite strange to see how many of my distant relatives are dying in faraway countries. My close relatives in South Africa don’t seem inclined to pass away and even if they did I don’t think there would be much mention of my name in their wills. Ours is big income family like the Rockerfellers, Trumps or Zumas.
Strangely, I haven’t been contacted recently by any foreign financial ministers wanting to use my bank account to hide $4 million stolen money. That used to be a regular message. Maybe the Guptas have laid claim to it.
The scary thing about this most recent big win of mine is that I actually did enter a competition sponsored by that particle brand of washing powder.
Normally, I just smile vaguely and hit the “delete” key and there’s an end to it.
It’s all part of the great lottery of life, I say, and remind myself that I cannot possibly win a competition I didn’t enter. But this time I did enter it. That puts me in a most difficult position. What if – just what if – my competition entry really did win a big prize? I vaguely remember tearing off the label of the washing powder packet in an idle moment and sending the SMS with my details to the competition organisers. Could I actually have won? I am told that the suckers who reply to those fake notifications of big prizes usually end up being scammed out of every cent in their bank accounts. The organisers say they want your bank account details, because obviously they need them to deposit your winnings. Instead they use those details to withdraw everything in your account.
I’m sorry, folks, I am passing up my chance of winning a fortune. If any of my descendants hoped to inherit a portion of that R475 000 they’re out of luck.
And the next time I win R475 000 I hereby give the competition organisers my permission to take R1 000 of it and use it to hire an Uber taxi and bring the cash to my front door.
And keep the change.
Last Laugh
A group of senior South African politicians was on a flight to India when their plane was hijacked and forced to land in a foreign country.
Obviously, there was great consternation back in South Africa and eventually a message was received demanding a R100m ransom in cash and a note that said until the money was paid, the hijackers would release one politician every hour.