Silly sea­son more like Hal­loween in politricks

Sowetan - - Opinion - Vera

Rat­tling clos­ets

Vera warned a few weeks ago that, this be­ing the silly sea­son in our politricks, ex­pect the un­ex­pected and some small­ernyana skele­tons Badakiwe warned us about to sud­denly spring to life.

But even Vera was star­tled by Buf­falo’s con­fes­sion of what was in his closet. You see, we have all been wait­ing for the sec­ond in­stal­ment of Steve the Apol­o­gist’s chron­i­cles on the Buf­falo Bull’s in­fa­mous es­capades with them ladies, since the first one was a damp squib.

Who the cap fits...

It wasn’t the juicy type of news many would an­tic­i­pate to come out of Ce­real’s closet but there he was, with more than a glint in the eye, as he de­clared to the gath­ered faith­fool at the Real MK con­fer­ence at the week­end that he has an MK uni­form in his wardrobe back home.

It is a hand-me-down he got when he vis­ited the gueril­las in camp shortly after he was elected sec­re­tary-gen­eral of the ANC in the early 1990s.

Good thing, that spend­ing a few hours in a mil­i­tary camp didn’t give him delu­sions of grandeur.

Fong kong Che Gue­varas

Vera knows of many peace­time rev­o­lu­tion­ar­ies who are play­ing war games to­day sim­ply be­cause they could land their paws on fake army fa­tigues and some faded berets.

We have fel­las run­ning around here call­ing them­selves com­man­der in chief.

En­ter the spoiler

Vera is in no mood to ask our Buf­falo Sol­dier why he has not been seen in the uni­form in public.

Ever the cap­i­tal­ist, Buf­falo must have been hoard­ing the rag­tag army uni­form in the mis­taken be­lief that it would be worth some­thing one day.

The game was go­ing well un­til some­one spoiled the broth, and who else would that be but the Cook?

The man with more than one stump made sure of that by de­valu­ing the MK uni­form with his born­free make-be­lieve gueril­las in their buy-one-get-three free fake guerilla fa­tigues. Re­mem­ber when he sum­moned those to come and guard Luthuli House against the mighty DA army led by the Gar­den Boy?

Dis­ap­pear­ing act

Vera asked a col­league at the MK gig to have his eyes peeled for the Cook and his apron Des – who would surely not miss this spe­cial week­end to hang around old com­rades.

The two were nowhere to be seen, and it did not take us long to fig­ure out why. Phela, the con­gre­gated were real sol­diers who braved the en­emy and diced with death, fight­ing for our free­dom.

Vera isn’t sure the same can be said of the Cook and Des van Week­end Spe­cial. Be­ing there would have re­minded him of his days back in the camps when he was or­dered around, run­ning er­rands for real sol­diers – be­sides his main job of cook­ing.

Shrink­ing vi­o­let

Vera gets it. Any­body who knows he was go­ing to be put firmly in his place like that would rather shrink like ... uuhm that mem­ber of his that he put on na­tional view in that photo he posed for in a ho­tel room.

What’s that noise?

Ever won­dered why Razz has been mak­ing so much ger­aas lately?

The poor chap was try­ing to muf­fle the noises com­ing from his closet. That’s al­ways a fu­tile ex­er­cise, es­pe­cially in a coun­try like South Africa, full of tjat­jarag peo­ple.

But it would take much more than crush­ing balls and mak­ing peo­ple drink urine to re­move the stink of a small­ernyana skele­ton whose time had come, Fiks.

It crept out of the closet any­way and with it came a bill from Dubai, leav­ing Razz in­con­ceiv­ably speech­less. He se­cured him­self a ra­dio in­ter­view where he tried to spin the tale so much he ended up en­tan­gled in a spaghetti of half truths, half de­nials and any­thing in-be­tween.

Fik­ile Mbalula

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