We are in a state of limbo, but nobody’s dancing
What is happening?” I asked no one in particular as the buzz in the office rose a few notches higher than the usual hum. Was it being announced? I wondered, as did a few colleagues near me.
We rose to scan the floor and the TV screens pinned on pillars.
“Nobody knows, Ace said something,” a colleague answered as he strode past my desk. So I stopped what I was doing, googled. No dramatic development — no development at all. So I turned back to the task at hand. But where was I?
It has been like this all week. Longer — two weeks. Actually, this stop, start, worry, start, stop, worry again has been ongoing — intermittently — for years.
The tension was palpable early last year as expectations mounted that finance minister Pravin Gordhan was to be fired, and then, of course, he was. His dismissal had already been anxiously anticipated for months before that.
After Gordhan’s firing, along with the dismissal of deputy finance minister Mcebisi Jonas at the same time, came the ratings downgrades, the state-capture revelations and a litany of horrors, including the anguish and suffering of mentally ill patients in the Life Esidimeni scandal.
The vortex of ANC politics continues to suck the energy from this country, diverting attention from ordinary but essential pursuits: governance and service from those in government, work for those who have jobs, education for those who teach and learn, and care from those in healthcare.
If these everyday pursuits were conducted with professionalism, citizens — knowing their children were safe, being well educated or cared for properly when sick — would be able to get on with what they need to get on with doing. Knowing your family’s needs are covered gives you the confidence to step out and up.
Toxic leadership in government has seeped through society, leaving its stench everywhere.
A lack of motivation for many working in the public service, worn down perhaps by poor working conditions and leaders who are driven by personal gain, has meant poor quality services are either grudgingly delivered or not at all.
The private sector’s confidence is frayed and, while business ticks over, the perpetual limbo the country is in means passion and energy are seeping away.
The difficulty in removing President Jacob Zuma could delay the budget. It has already scuppered the state of the nation address, a necessary precursor to the finance minister delivering the country’s financials in late February.
And if the budget is delayed, another cycle of alarm will ensue. The numbers are an important account of where the country stands financially and what will be done to fix any shortfall.
When a JSE-listed company fails to release its financial results, the pressure valve is to dump its stock. In the case of a country that does not deliver its numbers on time, the response could be a ratings downgrade.
It is said South Africans seem to love living on the edge. But do we?
Couldn’t we have a late summer that is exceptional in its ordinariness? An autumn that is a much-needed transition, a winter to clear away the dead wood and rot, and then a spring where we can get on with growing this country?