To JZ, from Schabir with love

So Schabir Shaik is at it again. Cursing, swearing and pushing people around at his golf club where he spends time keeping his frail body fit. Only an unhappy person acts the way he has since getting parole.

ho can blame him? In fact, one must feel for a man who has been dealt a bad hand by a bad man.

If I was in his shoes I’d rid any bitterness by putting pen to paper. That’s what I do when wanting to thrust a fist down the throats of inept politicos or yapping dogs. I grab my tablet and beat out words telling them exactly how I feel. It’s more effective therapy than wielding a nine iron at some horrible whitey.

As Schabir, I’d write a letter to the person who turned his back on him. Like: Dear Jacob ( you @#$%^&!), hope you’re in fine fettle and enjoying being president. Haven’t heard from you since our last meeting as brothers in alms. Who would have thought the envelope you pocketed was the last one.

So much money under the bridge, hey, Jacob?

Something keeps nagging and gnawing and has contributed to my ill-health and temperous outbursts – even mouthing gender related expletives. Perhaps you can explain it in simple terms. How does the laws of our country work?

See, what beats me is a “corrupt relationship” means there are two or more people involved. You can’t have a relationship with yourself, can you, Jacob?

Let me remind you, in case you’ve forgotten, given your busy schedule ducking and diving awkward questions, you and I had what was defined as a corrupt relationship.

By the way, thank Allah you didn’t have Nkandla on your plate, even I wouldn’t have been able to fork out so much boodle.

Now here’s the rub, my buddy in crime. Only I was found guilty and put away. How did you manage to walk away? I mean, you were on the receiving end of my financial support, so we should have shared cells. Okay, so you probably instructed correctional services to get me out of the hell hole sooner. And now to ease my parole conditions.

How about a round of golf sometime? Can’t promise I’ll not lose my cool.

Love, @#$%&*.