TRU

In Loving Memory

My 58-years old mother, Movies Maforule Mashego passed away at approximately 17h30 on May 20th. It was the climax to a painful and short battle against chronic leukemia (blood cancer). She succumbed to the disease at Charlotte Mxcenge (formerly Johannesburg General) Hospital following weeks of chemotherapy treatment. She complained about pain and tiredness.

My mother, who was born in the Vaalhoek district of Pilgrim’s Rest on 12 November 1950 was a woman used to action, a woman who went to Johannesburg in 1976 and worked for Susan Myerson for all these years. Myerson was at pains as she was the one who had the unenviable task of making the telephone call. “Goodenough I’m very sorry. Your mother has just passed away”. Then she went on a guilt-trip, “I should have done more but I didn’t”. I kept reassuring her that she did all she could and the situation was beyond her control. She was sobbing uncontrollably, “I loved your mother so much”. I was now the one comforting.

My month earlier situation was that when I made a call to my hospitalized mother and she told me that the diagnosis was blood cancer and that the doctors told her that she had been harboring active cancer cells for the past 30-years I started expecting the worst while hoping for the best. How she was responding to treatment was not encouraging either. My brother Katise, who has an understanding of prognosis went to visit her and SMSed me ‘she’s trying but it’s hard’.

From that time I had been preparing myself for ‘that’ call. It finally came last Wednesday from a sobbing Susan.

The following day I took the 600-plus kilometres journey to Johannesburg. I met Susan and we had our first hour-long chat. We discussed her adult children, she told me soothing stories about my mother, I told her we need wisdom in doses to understand why we have to stomach loss and move on without grudges. She was deploying a napkin to wipe her tears. I assured her that she didn’t have to cry for her ‘friend’ but to appreciate the fact that they spent three decades together, raising her three children in the process. “She was my sister, my mother, my grandmother, everything to me. I always thought we would grow old together”, she stammered. The old woman was in mourning.

The following day I went with my aunt Leftah to the hospital mortuary for a positive identity and to collect my mother’s things. It was my first time in a mortuary but I walked out relieved. My mother finally looked at peace – the suffering was over for her.

She has lived her life, though not to the fullest but has raised generations of children, both black and white. She has taught her daughters everything from cooking to baking. She had learnt and taught others how to knit and design clothes.

My mother was loved by so many people I was humbled just sitting outside her room and scores of people I have never met before walked in to pay their last respects. Elders from her local Jehovah’s Witnesses congregation came through. The mood was only painful because we were brought together by loss, but overall there was a unanimous feeling that she has lived her life productively and touched so many people. She has set the basis of how she will be remembered.

As I made the long journey back to Mpumalanga I felt that I shall not cry for a woman I loved so much when she has been freed from the shackles of pain. I felt that it would serve her memory well if everybody remembered her love, humility, passion for life, readiness to help and charitable spirit instead of her untimely death. People should remember how she lived and celebrate that instead of mourning her departure. Her faith in Jehovah prepared her to accept death as a temporary measure, and it’s such unwavering faith that people should carry in their hearts.

She is survived by her 83-years old mother, two sisters and scores of children, grandchildren, friends, relatives and a congregation of Witnesses that embraced her. She was be buried on May 30, 2009 at Shatale Township.

TRU

The best South African book ever written

Recently I have been absent from the arts critiquing world given what was happening in the country which was enough to pass off as fiction. Politics got the better of me and I couldn’t keep readers updated about the four publications (by Fiona Zerbst, Helen Moffett, Joan Metelerkamp and Sindiwe Magona)Modjadji books has just released, the detailed return of Green Dragon (however I’m waiting for review copies of the rejuvenated reptile), the opportunities to be published by Dye Hard Press, in short stories which will be edited by reviewer extra-ordinaire Arja Salafranca and lots of stuff. I mean poet David wa Maahlamela has been in a muse lately and he is quite becoming an authority in poetry circles, which is good, given that I have been trying to make him South Afrika’s poet laureate when Prof Keorapetse Kgositsile finally retires.

But I swear to you today that I’m back like the Terminator (governor Arnold Schwarzenegger) told that stupid cop in Terminator I. Like it has become custom I’m going to start sticking to what I know best, read books and write about them and get you buying and increasing the volume of book readers. I am going to start with the surplus I have in my library which I have read but never reviewed as I chased the two Zs – Zuma and Zille.

I intend to get all four Modjadji books and read them from cover to cover in record time then blog about them. I am waiting for Bra Gary to hook me up with my complimentary copy of the reptile and I will critique it for you – free of charge. Yeah, I will objectively critique it even though it has my poetry between its lovely pages.

Also on the pipeline is Timbila 7. Fresh poetry from the Timbila Poetry Project oven of Vonani Bila to keep you salivated even when you are already full. I will review it for you even though it’s got my stuff as well. You’ll also meet new poets in those pages – I won’t entice you but keep you in suspense.

Jacana Books has been sending me notices of book launches to attend and mingle with the who’s who of authors they publish. I haven’t attended any of them in protest at the fact that publishers give review copies to newspapers and magazines which end up not reviewing their material but stacking them up in warehouses while they refuse to give copies to a blog with 28000 testaments. And we dare buy and review – imagine me reviewing a book I have bought at Exclusive? That would be the coldest day in hell.

I mean when I used to review bars and pubs I usually ended up sloshed because the barman kept them coming – I was forever hit. I would start scribbling the review as I go for my eleventh pint of Jack Daniels, and to think that you read the gibberish as fact makes me feel guilty as sin. I have never written any bad review about a pub because I wrote them sloshed – then sober, thanks to Bloody Mary.

Finally, I am really back to keep all of you informed. I have added a few other things as well as you will see in the coming months. More music reviews, more film reviews and more – wait for these, fashion designer reviews and couture critiquing. My friend Za is a rising star and Mpumalanga finally has a Fashion Week which makes for interesting content.

In the coming few weeks I will bring you a review of American Gangster – the movie. I know you have seen it but I will tell you what I think about it so that when you go purchase the DVD you look at it around my points. I will also do so Don Cheadle’s Traitor and many more. If you want to learn about Al Qaeda – through the eyes of an American scriptwriter, then this is the movie for you.

Hey, comrades, forgive me for the long political rants of yesterdays. Water under the bridge.

NEWS

A Reason to be Optimistic?

I like to think of myself as an optimist, or rather what they call an eternal optimist. I believe that light comes after darkness, that rain brings sunshine, that pain gives birth to joy and that everything happens for a 'good' reason. I am a man who believes that if you can't find love, love will find you.So, when I was asked if I'm optimistic about South Afrika I did not have to scratch my head but to simply say 'YES and NO'.

This was a day after it was reported that new Transport Minister Sbu Mndebele has been given a R1 million plus Mercedes Benz S500, two cows, crockery and cutlery and other freebies as a thank you by businesspeople who have benefitted from a grand government road construction and maintenance scheme meant to benefit black contractors.This robbed me of my optimism because I asked myself if the honourable minister really had to wait for the Democratic Alliance to tell him that such a gift is wrong and can not be accepted.

I asked myself if the minister, in his wisdom didn't see that he can not accept such a gift. I mean the whole exercise has got corruption and conflict of interest written all over it. Then his party went silent and suddenly such was not corruption but what Gwede Mantashe called 'facilitating'. So, I discussed it with one of my friends and I swore to him that 'corruption' will have to be redefined to suit the situation.

But to him I really raised an issue suddenly the whole thing might be sweeped under the carpet because the whistleblower is the DA and you might have people shouting 'Zille must leave Sbu alone and focus on disabling his cabinet'. However the gentleman he is Sbu called a press conference and announced that he was handing back the car.I felt pessimistic when it was revealed that the Presidency (of JZ) adviced him to keep the car if he wanted it since there was nothing wrong with the gift. I mean from 16000 kilometres away my brother could see something wrong but the Presidency which is occupied by a man who is fresh from a botched corruption case says, 'ride on brother'.

It worries me.Then as if to add insult to injury Sbu goes on to announce that he might buy a car of the same make from the vehicle finance scheme available to him and other government executives. Now talk about bad timing; what will stop the same bunch of businesspeople from converting the car to cash and depositing it into his account? Also, why didn't Sbu just take the car, hand it over to an orphanage to sell and use the money since the businesspeople obviously didn't have anything to do with the gifts?

Makes me think. I'm optimistic that JZ and his people in the Presidency will learn the real definition of corruption and fraud. Makes me see the glass as being half empty and not full.

NEWS

In Defence of Helen Zille

(The South Afrika I want )

I know good white people. I know bad white people. I know good black people. I know bad black people. I know good Coloured people. I know bad Coloured people. I know good Indian people. I know bad Indian people.

However I shall not be caught dead accusing Democratic Alliance leader Helen Zille of being a bad white person. If anything I would classify her as a white person who is so concerned about the ‘wrong’ direction this country is taking which is borne exclusively out of dead policies like the cadre deployment programme.

I come from a municipality that is categorized as poor from an economic base point of view. It is a poor municipality for which the contradiction is that the people who work for it and those who get contracts from it are getting filthy rich. It’s a municipality whereby politicians and managers are growing wealthy by the day. It’s a municipality whereby every single person employed by it belongs to a certain political party – from the municipal manager to the cleaner.

But quite intriguing is that it’s a municipality that has failed to reverse the boundaries of poverty and to set up infrastructure necessary for the development of the place. I come from a township that does not have street lights, no tar-road, no sewerage and no constant supply of water. However according to municipal planning this infrastructure exists. It was planned for in the Integrated Development Plan, a contractor was appointed for it, did half-baked job, got paid his full payment and disappeared.

Rumour says he split some of the bounty with politicians and managers in the municipality. I come from a ward whereby my councilor is a 40-something years old woman who can not read or write. Councilors are supposed to be legislators but she can’t even understand the first thing about the Local Government Act or the some pieces of municipal legislation. She’s a beneficiary of the ANC’s 50/50 deployment policy.

I look at our country’s new cabinet searching for inspiration but I don’t find none as I see the usual suspects who have failed in portfolios somewhere else. Edna Molewa, Paul Mashatile, Maite Nkoana-Mashabane, Dina Pule, Thabang Makwetla, Lulama Xingwana, Angie Motshega, Phillip Gondongwana etc. All I see are chess pieces moved to strategic points so that they can strike the queen without any hindrance. I see a minister of justice who is put there to appoint a crony Judicial Services Commission that will squash charges against a suspended suspect judge. A minister deployed to constitute the Human Rights Commission with cronies. I see a Minister of Defence appointed to empower so-called war-veterans who are becoming younger every month. I see a minister appointed to deal with women, children and disabled affairs who is put there to appease disabled people at the expense of the taxpayer.

I try to find inspiration somewhere else and I do so in the Western Cape. There I see a cabinet that is not constituted for cosmetic purposes, not to portray a perfect picture. I see a predominantly white/all make cabinet that is not obsessed with political correctness but service delivery.

Give me a politically incorrect structure with balls anytime and I will endorse it. I am not one for perfect pictures but for service delivery. I rather have an all female competent team in Iran than a gender-mixed incompetent team in South Afrika. I am not one to embrace tokens and people appointed to positions for party political purposes or as rewards for loyalty. Loyalty to your party shouldn’t cost me the taxpayer money since you are not loyal to me. I’m all for free thinkers who are not always on the phone taking instructions from their bosses who mostly are out of touch with reality – like my councilor.

I agree with Zille that the only crime she committed was to wrestle the Western Cape from a divided African National Congress. I disagree with the Commission on Gender Equality that is vocal about Zille’s all-male cabinet while it’s quiet about girl-child abuse in high schools, women being deployed as tokens to positions they hardly understand – like my councilor and Julius Malema’s reference to a 58-year old woman as a ‘girl’. Where is the commission and others of its ilk as Julius keeps on insulting Zille day in and day out.

This is not the South Afrika I envisaged while I was in that jail cell in 1989. I didn’t vote for Helen, Zuma or COPE, but I love a good argument. I believe that indeed Zille is right about promiscuity by a polygamist putting his wives in danger. It just beats me why such a scientific reality can’t be shared by the Youth League which is either filled with blind-loyalists or is just out of touch with reality as well.

Over the weekend one of my friends argued that Zuma apologised for his promiscuity. I told him I’m one of those who have not yet forgiven him for that – and maybe Zille if one of them since Zuma can not expect that misdemeanor to be erased from the minds of the nation from a simple abridged ‘I’m sorry’.

What South Afrika do I want? A South Afrika whereby people are not judged by the colour of their skin but the content of their character. A South Afrika that values talent to party loyalty. A South Afrika whereby 10.6 million people who voted for the ANC but are not members are not denied opportunities for the mere fact that they are one of the approximately 400 000 or so card-carrying ANC members. An equal opportunity South Afrika. Am I asking too much? Maybe. But I’m an idealist and I often speak my mind. This is food for though – eat it and allow me to do the dishes.

TRU

The Best of Both Worlds

Since Umsholozi got his machine gun back on Saturday I have been thinking a lot about the power of exaggeration. No, it was not something borne out of Libyan leader Muammar Gadaffi’s excessive indulgence or Zimbabwe president Robert Mugabe’s old Mercedes Benz. It was something sourced from bad use of language. I ended up coming up with phrases like the ones below and trying to understand what they actually mean.

1. “It doesn’t get any better than this” – It means what has just happened is a barometer and that the person who uses this phrase knows it all. First time cannabis smokers experience a high that any other puffing will never fade. So, the first time you puff, remember that it don’t get no better than that.
2. “They don’t make them like they used to” – that’s braggadocio and a veiled threat. You have heard people reading bad press and commenting that they don’t make journalists like they used to, same with soccer players. We say they don’t make soccer players like they used to when they were making Pele, Maradona and Jomo Sono.
3. “World class” – what does it mean? It means a Mercedes Benz, a Gulfstream jet. Simply it means that whatever is on offer is of a class that it’s got no competition or class of its own in the world.
4. “State of the arts” – in ghetto lingo they call it ‘last number’. It’s the latest gadget out there in the markets and there’s nothing after it – more like the interactive flat screen 200 centimeter high definition wireless television.
5. “Third generation” – this is what is not yet on the mass market. Like that Pentium 12 which is used in some military institutions. It’s said to be third generation because it’s ahead of its time.
6. “Internationally acclaimed” – it means having received international recognition and maybe won one or two international awards since awards are the only way to measure reception of anything in the world.
7. “Ontop of the world” – this one comes from the people who have made it a career to climb mountains and plant their country’s flags. They say ‘I’m ontop of the world’ based on beliefs that some peaks are higher than others and some are yardsticks of how high one can fly without wings.
8. “best of both worlds” – this is braggadocio as well since there’s one world and to allege that something is the best of both worlds is actually to say that it appeals both here and in the after-life.
9. ‘greatest of all times” – that is until now. Ray Charles can be the greatest of all time but a time will come when he will be upstaged. Tupac Shakur is still undisputed but one day someone will come and topple him from that high hip hop office.
And you were wondering where I got them? Just listen to any first time rap album and you are likely to get more braggadocios lines in one album than you’ve heard in your whole lifetime.

POEM

Somehow

I have just cast my ballot this cold morrow.
Mbombela civic centre having hosted me.
Civility glued to the civic centre’s personnel.
The queue snaked itself long & winding like the
Domba maidens’ dancers’ unison jigs & turns.

Voters’ intentions very, very naked to the course
Like the domba maidens erect unsullied boobs.
Somehow, the land is not in solitary confinement,
But in solitary oneness with its butterfly coloured fellows.
Felon no more, fetes the advent of democracy.

Somehow, the affirmed Moseses of Freedom or Death,
Victory is Certain – Can not cast their ballots for
Bullets overtook them in casting its vile intentions.
Your illogical & selfish excuses to register not & unable your
Honourable self to vote not, is treason against the democracy imbued flag.

Somehow, be high on life for the blinkers of hatred are easily
Laminated against virtue whilst self satisfaction is open ended.
Somehow, some things occur that are a tad tricky to explain.
Somehow, half baked truths influence one to half baked conclusions.
Somehow, allow yourself to be influenced for tomorrow’s sake: Vote!

This poem was written by poet Sello Kekana immediately after casting his vote at Nelspruit (Mpumalanga). He is the sole copyright owner of the works published here. For further publishing please clear with him.

REVIEW

Yello SAMA

It is going to be the kwaito industry beef of all times and fortunately for the South Afrikan music lover they were there when it was first cooked. In 1996, during some glam awards (MTV or Grammy) in the United States then rap mogul Marion Suge Knight used his few minutes on stage to urge ‘all rappers who want to make money and to have glitz videos and to not have the CEO dancing on their videos to come and join Death Row Records’. It was a spite on Sean ‘Puffy’ Combs’ Bad Boy Records who was sitting somewhere with his posse. That was the beginning of what came to be known as the East-West Coast beef. Many deaths later Death Row went under and only two men prevailed – Dr Dre (who left to form Aftermath) and Combs.

And watching the SAMA ceremony on Saturday brought that bitter nostalgia to the fore. First it was cocaine-addicted and convicted kwaito act Briggz who when it was time to receive his award decided to use the opportunity to gloat at his former producer DJ Cleo. “Thanks Bra TK (TK Nciza) for removing me from a bad situation (Cleo or coke?). To Cleo, once again you lose. No bad blood, but I love you dog (Judas and Brutus acts)”.

Literally that’s what he said. I saw Sbu Leope (aka DJ Sbu aka Mzekezeke), who wears sunglasses even at night smiling naughtily. Now fast forward to five minutes later and Cleo (who’s also wearing glasses) mounts the same stage and you could cut the tension with a blunt knife from the moment he took off from his seat. ‘Ubani o-losile?’, first words out of the mouth of a hitmaker scorned. Then he goes on to gloat about having won two awards and soon making a decision stage an after-party in Springs. Actually what he was saying was that Briggz has to wait for someone to decide on his after-party but he (Cleo) can do so at the blink of an eye. Remember what The Game said, ‘I’m Game, CEO of my own shit/ no more this G-Unit bullshit’. Yeah, Cleo does not need to thank anyone because he’s sucking nobody’s dick or taking anybody’s up his ass while skinny Briggz needs to send a shout-out.

Okay, more stuff about the SAMAs. I don’t know if I’m the only one who thinks that the fable of Rebecca Malope winning the Gospel Category has come to suck. The woman wins even when her album is not the best out there. It’s like there’s a law that say that award should go to her. A little information about Rebecca; she comes from Mpumalanga; used to sing disco and then switched to gospel. She has since released 29 gospel albums and has been in the music industry for a whopping 24 years – talk of staying power. And now for the killer; the SAMAs are 15-years-old and she has won them 12 times while I’ll have difficulty telling you on one of her songs, let alone albums. It sucks, time for her to say ‘NO’.

One other interesting revelation was Lira’s white token. I have heard that she’s doing whites and have always wanted to see ‘the boyfriend’. And when I finally did I couldn’t tell if the dude has legs or not since he couldn’t stand up and join the madam even when she invited him. They say shyness is unattractive – I doubt that Lira shares that sentiment.

Now the biggest winners on the night, Rhythmic Elements decided to bring their godmother to the stage and the whole extended family. One feels that they badly managed the sad news of the passing of one of the group members’ sister. They could have made it a sombre moment and dedicated the award to her and then explained that she passed away ‘due’ (not ‘because’) to cancer.

The first loser was Unathi, whose radio station gave her a token award and she couldn’t compete fairly. The biggest loser, apart from Unathi and who Briggz said it was has to be Bongani Fassie because quite frankly the dude went there with his posse hoping to scoop multiple awards. His protégé, Da Les’ album rocks, the production is super but if groups like 340 ml and soloists Thandiswa could not win, why could digitally manufactured beats walk away with an award? Even Zuluboy looked out of place with his traditional gear that would irk Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals.

And finally, Sbu, as DJ Sbu lost badly. His protégé’s didn’t shine except MaBrigado. His alter-ego didn’t shine. He couldn’t host the after-parties he’s known for given that MTN doesn’t give Vodacom sponsored acts the opportunity to paint Sun City navy blue when Yello is the in-thing. The only thing remaining with him, which is what we’ll remember him for is being Jacob Zuma’s sidekick at the Siyangcoba Rally, wanting to be JZ and dating Terry Pheto.