Backers sing machinegun song

MARCHERS burst out in song to former president Jacob Zuma’s trademark song Awulethe umshini wami (bring me my machine gun) as they entered Margaret Mncadi Avenue, backed by a band playing the tune.

The Mtwalume Brass Band had been part of the march that began at King Dinuzulu Park and proceeded down Dr Pixley KaSeme Street and into Yusuf Dadoo before hitting the road on which the Durban High Court is situated – where their hero appeared briefly.

Clerics led the procession as marchers behind them carried placards, some with formal messages denouncing “White Monopoly Capital” that had been printed on boards. Others, like one announcing “RET (radical economic transformation) Or Fokkof”, were handwritten on pieces of cardboard.

The Black Land First movement flew their flag and wore the slogan “Land or Death” on the backs of their T-shirts.

However, the mood was not aggressive. Nhlonkwa Thabiso, one of many supporters who came from the Free State, said no one should judge Zuma.

“He will always be our (former) president, even though he has stepped down,” he said, putting on a hand-out T-shirt with ANC branding.

“He gave us free schooling. He is a kind man. He is always supporting us. There are many.” When Zuma spoke about the trial he faced, a woman selling peanuts muttered quietly: “Good luck, good luck, good luck.”

Innocent Mkhize, who is originally from Babanago but works in Durban, wore his full traditional costume, complete with a shield and a knobkierie, which he used to bang in rhythm with music.

“Yes, I am here to support Msholozi (Zuma’s clan name),” he said.

Expecting trouble that is often associated with marches, shopkeepers along the way kept their shutters down. In some cases that meant no Ethiopian cuisine was available on Dr Pixley KaSeme Street.

At least two busloads arrived at the Margaret Mncadi Avenue end-point of the march in vehicles branded “Durban Transport”, and when Zuma left the scene, metro police motorbikes escorted his motorcade of presidential protection.

As the sun became hotter, shade from the trees became more attractive.

Every palm frond suddenly had value as people headed to the space underneath them like magnets.

The temperature, perhaps, added to bits of frustration.

As a passing train let off a blow of its horn, a woman struggling to hear what a speaker was saying turned around and muttered: “Voetsek!”