Greetings from Madiba...
D I greet you in the name of the nonracial, unifying, revolutionary, social justice and freedom fighting ANC… (Sorry, force of habit – I have to retract. Sadly, my beloved organisation is now the home of many tenderpreneurs, fraudsters and felons, many masquerading as ANC members with manufactured struggle credentials, with a common purpose – to loot the public purse at the expense of the poor and disadvantaged.)
I bring you heavenly greetings from the abode of Peter the Saint. This column was rejected by all newspapers in South Africa as a hoax. Therefore, I thank the editor of POST for believing in me, and especially my values, and granting me this space. (Yogas is quite a beauty – it may be my cataracts, but the colour of her dot appears to be black to ward off evil spirits, I am told. How I yearn for the elixir of youth.)
Whenever new arrivals queue up at the Gate, and St Peter is scrutinising their karma balance sheet in order to direct them to the appropriate domain, I always check if they are carrying a copy of POST.
I am glad to displace that holier-than-thou cynical Brijover-troubled-waters – he has nothing decent to say about my party or anyone else for that matter, even having a go at Shri Modiji. What cheek!
Okay, before you flood the letters column, he does “speak truth to power”. He frequently makes me borrow St Peter’s dictionary, and reminds me of the cantankerous Mac – these Maharaj fellows are normally related in some way.
I did read his flattering comments at the Maha Sabha’s memorial service: “As we celebrate Madiba’s life… if all South Africans, and indeed, the global population, adopt at least one of his principles, then the lot of humanity will be significantly improved on planet earth.
Madiba was an extraordinary person who… set the highest inspirational standards in terms of ethics, morality and integrity, which his successors have struggled to emulate”.
On my arrival here I heard a familiar voice shouting “Madiba! Madiba! Please save me. You visited my house in Chatsworth. I put your photo on the front page of POST.”
I turned around to see the Raj, in what appeared to be a holding cell, a little larger than that on Robben Island. It was adjacent to the zone of Fire, Brimstone, and Eternal Damnation, and I could recognise Verwoerd, Vorster, PW Botha, Hansie Cronje and Jackie Selebi immediately.
Apparently, there was a long queue and Lucifer was struggling to cope. I managed to convince St Peter and vouched for the Raj’s “transformation” – after all, he did sell (out) Minority Front voters to the ANC.
The Raj was allocated the lowest rung in Heaven, provisionally. I warned the Raj that if he crossed the floor here, it would only be in one direction! (I also subsequently learnt that St Peter does not like breyani!)
You will be glad to know that I enjoy Platinum Plus status – the highest rung in heaven – which I share with Martin Luther, Mohan(das) Gandhi, and Mother Theresa. Luther believes that Obama has not realised his potential and deserves a third term as US president, to prevent the Americans from being “Trumped”!
I reminded him that it was this type of third-term wistful thinking by Thabo Mbeki that was responsible for the current mess in my country.
The problem with sharing space with Gandhi is that one has to be celibate, and abstain from alcohol and meat. I am an African, so that is a tall order, especially the vegetarian bit.
Gandhi and Theresa do not trust each other. He thinks she wants to convert him, and she muses that in his dhoti the “half-naked fakir” is lewd.
When I tease Gandhi about the latter, he refers me to his book, Experiments with Truth.
Muhammed Ali Jinnah and Jawaharlal Nehru are also here, and continue with their earthly quarrels beyond the pearly gates; they have been warned by St Peter to behave, or they will be sent “next door”.
Last year, I jokingly suggested that Pakistan’s woes could end with re-incorporation into India, and the Hindus and Muslims refused to speak to me, but were forced to forgive and forget during Eid and Diwali, respectively.
St Peter is very tolerant, but gets exasperated by the “Tamil” and “Hindi” Diwali dates as the angels want two days off to observe the fireworks.
Last Diwali I volunteered to assist St Peter, who gratefully accepted my offer. However, he was infuriated to discover I was trying to advance someone’s departure from the earthly plane for arrival upstairs (and I discovered that Lucifer would be heading the reception committee).
Obviously, I cannot mention names, but my intention was to stop the downward political, economic and social spiral in South Africa, and the betrayal of the non-racial democratic project.
How the pendulum of time swings – some in the ANC call me a sell-out, and my photos now feature on the DA’s election posters, and a debate rages about the “unashamed manipulation” of my legacy! My legacy belongs to all who promote my ideals and value systems, and who are largely invisible, except on the annual July 18 Mandela Day charade for 67 minutes.
Gandhi was quick to console me, revealing that he has been allocated 24 hours on October 2 in India without impact. Predictably, those obsessed with greed continue to squabble over my will.
It was obvious from the antics of the fake sign language interpreter at my funeral that the SABC employs clowns.
However, Hlaudi’s attempts to protect, promote and praise his political master has turned the SABC into a circus.
SA Democratic Teachers Union protects incompetent teachers, and destroys the youth and future of my beloved country. And the poor still use match sticks and tyres to connect with politicians (reminds me of a member of my family).
And who are these Guptas, with extraordinary wealth, power and apparent influence to appoint cabinet ministers?
I know South African Indians to be hard-working, honest, peace-loving, and very religious folk. I beg you to expose the corrupt, those with quick, questionable wealth, and stop parading them at your public and private functions, and especially not in your sacred places of worship.
Please do not try to contact me, there are no internet, cellphone, wi-fi or postal services here. All such equipment is confiscated upon arrival, so as not to contaminate the ethereal atmosphere.
I need to conclude, but before I sign off I will let you into a secret. I made a request to St Peter for a visa to visit SA for a week. For once, he was not exasperated and it would appear that my visa may be granted.
Of course, whether the ANC government will allow me to enter South Africa, a country I can barely recognise, is another matter.
I will keep you POST( ed) about further developments in this matter. So, until we meet again, on Earth or in heaven… and hopefully not “next door”… I remain, Yours, Madiba