Cirque du SA

Cirque du SA

“…And leading the group of clowns is the head of state who will be singing the theme song of this year’s circus: ‘Watch me nene…’” Sorry; just needed to say that in the light of the recent happenings that will undoubtedly adversely affect our country’s economic future.
And, listening to talk radio, it has become apparent that the level of anger and frustration in the country is reaching boiling point. Presenters don’t have the answers for irate callers. And while the presenters are trying their damnest to stay positive; to make people see the doughnut and not the hole, all people seem to be seeing more and more is the country going to the proverbial dogs…and the glass being half full or half empty doesn’t seem to matter either…most people seem to think it is half-filled with muck (and I know a three-lettered Afrikaans word that starts with ‘k’ and ends with ‘k’ that rhymes with “muck”!). The Rand is at an all-time low, as is the morale of the populace.

The only thing going up with the escalating food prices and the cost of living is everyone’s blood pressure and rage. And I am reminded of Joni Mitchell who said: “It’s coming on Christmas; they’re cutting down trees. They’re putting up reindeer and singing songs of joy and peace. I wish I had a river I could skate away on…”
And, this talk of withholding the paying of taxes sounds like even more sh!t might be hitting the fan soon…let’s hope there is load shedding, then at least the fan will be off!
Just recently I was reminded that life is all about the two “C’s” – choice and consequence. Good choices will lead to good consequences and bad choices to possible bad, even disastrous consequences.

But what does one do when one lives in a country where your president acts more like a buffoon than a head of state – laughing like a lunatic, and making decisions with calamitous effects? Or, where your president has more wives than there are official languages and more children than there are players on a football field, including the linesmen and referees? And, because of this, the country feels it is their right to make more unwanted children that cannot be fed, and to treat women like dirt. And all we do every year is yet again to talk during 16 days of activism against violence on women and children…seriously?
What does one do when decisions are made that are critically affecting my and my fellow beings’ lives: decisions that are ultimately going to drive this place into the ground, and you stand by, watching helplessly, traipsing along, trying to keep head above water?

Yet, I wonder…because through all this, still, the malls are full. Boney M’s ‘Mary’s Boy Child’ is blaring through the speakers and the Christmas trimmings adorn the shops. The parking area is filled with small women driving big 4 by 4’s and even the prams they are pushing now look like they have 16-inch alloy wheels, and are propelled by diesel! Seriously, have you seen the size of some of those prams? They take up all the pavement space, and us “normal” pedestrians have to bypass on the road…

Access Park (in Kenilworth) hardly has space for people to park these days. Every conceivable space – even the poor old green grass (well now, with the water restrictions the slightly lighter shade of green grass, but still) is being used as parking spaces. Cars are parked angularly, sloping ever so cutely on the dainty rolling hills…
And I am quietly reminded of the “little boxes on the hillside…little boxes made of ticky tacky…little boxes, little boxes little boxes, all the same…”
And I am even more quietly reminded of the visionary Bob Marley, who said: “Emancipate yourself from mental slavery. None but ourselves can free our minds…”

And then I am inspired by The Beatles who penned: “I look at you all, see the love there that’s sleeping. While my guitar gently weeps. I look at the floor and I see it needs sweeping. Still my guitar gently weeps. I don’t know why nobody told you how to unfold your love.
I don’t know how someone controlled you; they bought and sold you. I look at the world and I notice it’s turning. While my guitar gently weeps. With every mistake we must surely be learning – still my guitar gently weeps…”
And then I “go quietly into the night”…into my flat…and I am peaceful again…until I switch on the radio the following morning…and the day begins with the afflictions of the nation…Happy holidays!