Friday, April 3, 2009

The dark and incontinent…er continent


A declaration of war on the state by taxi drivers, and more alarmingly, threats to undermine the 2010 soccer World Cup, has caught the eye of the international media.

The most recent protest in down town Johannesburg saw aggrieved taxi drivers blocking roads, bringing the City to a standstill with unnerving ease. It was click of the fingers stuff and muscle flexing that would have made Guv'nor Arnie proud.

Taxi operators are opposed to the City's impending public transport system. I am not entirely against their grievances and they have a point or two.

But here is the part I don’t understand…

Drivers vented their anger by looting shops, stoning vehicles, and forcing innocent commuters off buses. A bus driver was also shot in the hand, cars parked in the city were destroyed and general mayhem consumed Egoli for the day.

And while it follows similar demonstrations in Port Elizabeth and Cape Town, on this occasion the words ‘World Cup’ had our international media friends reaching for the yellow card.

The taxi industry claims to serve more than 60% of South Africa's commuters. It has been the backbone of the transport system since the early days of apartheid and deserves respect.
However, its powers have seemingly escalated to a point of invincibility, which in essence, is due to Government’s unwillingness to curb what is an unregulated transport sector. Does that make them a quango?

Government is now faced with a challenge of providing a safe, efficient public transit system, incorporating the taxi sector….Good luck Jacob and your ANC comrades…where does this mess sit on your list of priorities I wonder, rubbing my chin with thumbs and index finger. Does it sit in the same bracket as the state of our roads perhaps? Behind public services? Ahead of the education issue?

Failure to do so could derail the World Cup in 2010. And that isn’t me jumping on my White Range Rover with 60 inch rims, a tinted window, and a kick ass stereo and being all over the top about it. Any organisation that can take control of a city like Johannesburg in a matter of hours demands huge respect and I for one would not take their threats with a pinch of salt.

“If they don’t address this, we will bring the entire country to a halt for a week or two,” Joe Mophuting, a spokesman for the United Taxi Association Forum said to the Times. Eish indeed, fuggin double eish and a bloody hellfire for this quagmire (sorry I like that word) Government finds itself in.

As South Africans we tend to let violence wash over us on a daily basis. Eg: “I was just hijacked and I had a gun pointed at me, but can you hurry this report up please Mr police officer, because I want to get home and watch the cricket…South Africa are beating the Ausies.

Its part of our everyday environment, and if violence hasn’t touched you, a friend or a member of your family, you consider yourself to be having a pretty good day. And why not we live in Africa.

Unfortunately, most of the rest of the world, a few other African countries aside, everyday should be considered violence free day. It’s the way they live, yes how bloody dare they go around with that pontificating attitude.

So on the other side of the World Cup organising fence we have soccer body FIFA, who has indicated that it will adopt a zero tolerance policy to ensure the safe running of the first World Cup to be held on African soil. Chin chin, salute and all that for they are jolly good felllas that Sep and his European cronies.

The world simply doesn’t think like South Africans when it comes to violence. Why only last week India was deprived of its high profile Indian Premier League cricket tournament, following a spate of violent attacks on the sub continent. The tournament ironically will be held in South Africa later this month.

With World Cup kick off 434 days away, Government has it all to play for, and at this late stage of the game, it would do well to prevent any own goals…yes yes I know.

Right that’s me off my soap box…for I dare not tear this country apart, maybe only some of the people that live in it, and the list is getting longer. I wonder if I should start putting them into categories, files like I have on my laptop, maybe I should begin classification by political party.

I don’t want to pause for too long to think about such unhappy things, it would only be like breaking on the N3 in front of a car with blue lights riding up your tail…it would cause no end of kak.

There is flip side to this beautiful country which gives balance to my thoughts. I really don’t like to moan you see.… My sister lives on a ranch, a sanctuary for animals, and a retreat for broken souls. At this magic place, animals that usually feed the higher end of the food chain prosper. It’s a retreat for zebra, eight species of buck, oh and my favourite, a family of four giraffe. There are more than 130 different bird species including Fish Eagles who when testing its vocals down in the valley makes my all warm inside and gives me goose flesh.

My Africa is a bit like a favourite old T- shirt, you know the one, you run in it, wear it round the house, it has holes in funny places, exposing a nipple or your underarm hair. It’s stretched, the collar is torn, but it fits, its so familiar and so comfy and you will be damned if you would ever part with it.

Africa can be dark, but it’s in the light that it really flourishes. Here is to a really successful World Cup then.

While this toy toying goes on, I harbour dreams to be a pirate…to sail the seven seas…well not quite I was thinking more just the Gulf of Aden, and share my loot with my new Somali friends.
Buts that for another day….
An apt joke for the day:
A priest and a taxi driver both died and went to heaven. St. Peter was at the Pearly gates waiting for them. 'Come with me', said St. Peter to the taxi driver. The taxi driver did as he was told and followed St. Peter to a mansion. It had anything you could imagine from a bowling alley to an Olympic size pool. 'Wow, thank you', said the taxi driver. Next, St. Peter led the priest to a rugged old shack with a bunk bed and a little old television set. 'Wait, I think you are a little mixed up', said the priest. 'Shouldn't I be the one who gets the mansion? After all I was a priest, went to church every day, and preached God's word.' 'Yes, that's true. But during your sermons people slept. When the taxi driver drove, everyone prayed.'

1 comment:

  1. Dear writer Godfather, this is our favourite post so far. Keep writing, we miss you.

    ReplyDelete