Hogarth
With exes like her ex, who needs endorsing?
POOR Nkosazana Dlamini-Zuma. A decade ago she was two years away from becoming the country’s first woman president when her ex spoilt her party by winning at Polokwane and keeping the job all for himself.
Now she has a realistic chance again. But the ex keeps interfering — appointing his discredited self as her chief lobbyist and roping in the very worst of ANC politicians, like women’s league boss Bathabile Dlamini, as her cheerleaders.
Dlamini-Zuma may well hang her head in shame at the rogues’ gallery of politicians backing her up.
Oros dilutes his story
AT least there is one ANC rogue who has made it clear that he doesn’t support Dlamini-Zuma as the next No 1. The ANC kindergarten’s Comrade Oros told a news agency the other day that the youth league will “shock” the country with its own presidential candidate that would not be Dlamini-Zuma or Cyril Ramaphosa.
Since then the country has been waiting with bated breath for the surprise youth league candidate to be revealed.
But it turns out that the youth league itself didn’t know what Comrade Oros, its president, was talking about.
When his comrades confronted Comrade Oros about his statement the other day, he simply told them: “I was misquoted, comrades.”
Too many Dlaminis
IN the corridors of power, there are some murmurings of discontent about DlaminiZuma’s nomination, with some saying it would result in the “Zumafication” of the ANC and, ultimately, the country.
But Hogarth thinks “Zumafication” is just a red herring. What folks at Luthuli House should really be worried about is (how did the Gupta praise singer formerly known as Jimmy put it?) the oversupply of Dlaminis in the presidential offices of the ANC alliance’s structures.
If Dlamini-Zuma becomes ANC president, she will already have a Dlamini — Bathabile — as women’s league president and another Dlamini — S’dumo — as Cosatu prez.
Makes you wonder if Comrade Oros’s opposition is not based on the fear that a Dlamini would soon be found to replace him.
He only shot the deputy
THE ink had not dried on the ANC January 8 statement calling for unity among the party’s leaders when the Nkandla Crooner and Uncle Gweezy proved how impossible “unity” has become in the ruling party.
Uncle Gweezy gathered a group of trusted reporters at Luthuli House the other day to tell them that the ANC would be breaking its own tradition if it didn’t elect its deputy president, Ramaphosa, as its next president.
The next day No 1 went to Ukhozi FM and told millions of its listeners that the ANC had no rule that the deputy president should become the next president.
Dr Ben above the rest
GOOD old Dr Ben Ngubane has always been a man of expensive tastes. So Hogarth was not surprised to hear that the former IFP senior leader — who is now one of No 1’s most trusted corporate executives — turned up his nose at parliament’s offer to pay for his flight to Cape Town where he was to testify on the crisis at the SABC.
He preferred to pay from his own pocket so he could fly business class.
The UDM’s Nqabayomzi Kwankwa called him out for his expensive tastes after Ngubane said that the public no longer had the same respect for Chapter 9 institutions as it once did.
Kwankwa suggested that perhaps this was only true in the “business class circles” in which he moved.
Hogarth can only imagine the town-hall discussions taking place over the champagne cooler in the slow lounge.
ANC’s Wine League
SPEAKING of slow lounges, former MP Vytjie Mentor is proving to be an impimpi of note as she started spilling the beans again this week.
In the wake of a story that Social Development Minister Bathabile Dlamini was drunk on the podium last week, followed by official and some very unofficial denials by her spokeswoman, Mentor took to Facebook to share a memory of women in ANC Women’s League uniforms drinking in an airport lounge.
Without naming any names, Mentor mentioned one who was so drunk she fell over. Of course Mentor, who is known for her use of the cliffhanger as a storytelling device, then announced that the story was to be continued.
As sands pass through the whisky glass, so are the days of our lives . . .