Let’s keep our ugly side in check

(This column was submitted before the Afcon semifinal between Bafana and Nigeria. While extraordinarily well endowed in cranial dimensions, this columnist is no clairvoyant.)

South Africans are brilliant at a lot of things. Hiding our ugly side is not one of those things. If I was unkind, I’d probably insert a silly line here about the Rainbow Nation being a misnomer of the Ugly Nation. And boy oh boy have we outdone ourselves in the ugliness stakes in the past three weeks, or have we achieved summa cum laude in the art of snatching misery from the jaws of ecstasy?

Eqhwaba kanye! That’s isiXhosa for clapping once. And I’m not talking about how we’re shamelessly intruding into the private lives of our royal family, the Mandelas. I honestly don’t need to know just how far Tata’s children will go for a quick buck, selling anything from his dompas to skidmark-stained briefs when he used to pretend he was a boxer. None of it is necessary. Let Tata rest in peace, please.

Anyway, way too many words have been typed on social media about Bafana Bafana.

Any regular reader of this column since 2009 knows that I have held a steady view on our senior football squad. I love Bafana, win or lose. And that’s not conditional on which of my favourite players are on the team.

Back when I was a blind Chiefs supporter, around 1998/1999, I used to annoy the hell out of my cult members at Chiefs by asking, “Why are ‘Barnes’ Bapela and Charles Motlohi not in the Bafana squad?”I still don’t know the answer.

There might be a certain fellow who may or may not be missing a tooth (to quote Mondli Makhanya) who knows the truth. And that’s really neither here nor there. I was a Chiefs supporter and I went along with whatever conspiracy theory supported my latest delusions. I’ve written “eloquently”, and at length, about my feelings on members of the Chiefs and Pirates cults. (Read: unkind vitriol against the Soweto giants that behave like Tyrion Lannister).

In the event that you’re not au fait with the history of South African football, Chiefs and Pirates are probably the only reason any of us even know about football. Without Chiefs and Pirates, we probably wouldn’t have a professional league. We’d be like Saudi Arabia, inviting 103-year-olds to play in our league.

Through the vision of Kaizer Motaung, the Don who yanked South African football from Sunday league status to 90,000 rabid fans yelling their guts out at the Calabash and others, we have a league that can produce Afcon winners and semifinalists.

When the supporters of Chiefs and Pirates took to social media to defile the name of the national team because there were “too many” Sundowns players, I wanted to gnaw at the bits of the R21 that aren’t already undrivable. I’m not sure why there’s a debate about greatness when both sides, put together, are a handful of PSL titles short of matching Sundowns. As for poor coach Rhulani Mokwena, the nation’s favourite whipping boy, I can only offer him simple words: “One day they’ll wake up”.

However, my favourite part of our predictable outrage is when the Nigerian High Commission issued a warning to Nigerians to avoid celebrating too loudly should the Super Eagles beat up on the boys, Bafana Bafana.

Of course, if there’s a flare-up of South African vs Nigerian tensions, they’re proven right. But if nothing happens, there’s a good case for arguing that they called for calm and it worked. I can’t think of a more winwin situation. I shrugged when I heard the story because it sounded like not much of a story.

Enter Dirco, possibly buoyed by their recent win at the ICJ . Extremely unnecessarily, we’re bombarded with a statement to deal with this already tragic statement from the Nigerians. I’ve always contended that no-one takes more offence than someone being accused of something they’re guilty of.

Just call a liar a liar if you don’t believe me. Or accuse a thief of stealing. But that’s neither here nor there. My point is that we are guilty of way too much unnecessary ugliness. And it doesn’t have to be that way. By the time this is published, Bafana will be in the finals, and we’ll have shifted our ugliness to the DRC.

If this makes you think I’m an activist against xenophobia, please reconsider. I caught a bit of a radio conversation on the Clement Manyathela Show. A Nigerian caller was trying to make a point and used English Premiership teams as an analogy. When he referred to a certain London club as “Asna” and my beer squirted out of my nose, I knew I was part of the problem.

We’ve outdone ourselves in the ugliness stakes lately if the ‘tragic statements’ between Dirco and the Nigerian High Commission are anything to go by