5/29/10

The State of Readiness

Quite recently me and my highly-informed friends were having lunch at a Portuguese pizzeria in Nelspruit when suddenly a very skinny army Colonel filed past in that dodgy schooled posture. I was not going to notice if one of my friends did not ask me if I think the guy can defend my country if we woke up to an invasion. I gazed at the middle-aged man and the first thing I could see through his skeletal structure was him lying expensive on a slab in some god-forsaken foreign army mortuary or with his arms raised (holding on to a bloodied white flag) surrendering. I mean my perception of soldiers is of men who fit the pedigree of those JAG and Navy Seals corporals with shaven heads and war paint. Chaps who look like Marines not the cooking or medical staff.

I then threw a cat amongst the pigeons but suggesting that I doubt if the muthafucka can successfully operate an artillery piece when it matters. "Come on I don't see this guy discharging a G5 shell successfully. He'll be thrown ten metres away by the impact." I said, knowing too damn well that a G5 is one of the most potent weapons on the modern battlefiend with a range of between 39 and 53 kilometres. The other friend, a well-travelled Congolese patriarch responded, "They say to operate that machine you now need to be at least 300 pounds, otherwise you are not going to withstand the exit of that shell"
"For sure, I mean even though some of the G5s are equipped with a target finder you still need to load those ten kilograms shells yourselves and release them. No wonder one machine is operated by at least a whole fucking platoon". Now that brought a laugh as our troopie returned from a restaurant where they sell African cuisine with a take-away - probably for some pot-bellied Luitenant-Colonel.

I stared at him walking stoically and said, "These dude looks like he weighs 165 pounds in the city where the skinny niggers die". Okay, skinny niggers don't really did in Nelspruit even though all female politicians have extra bellies. Then another friend enlightened us when he mentioned that it's not by accident but design that South Afrika is having an ageing army. "I mean the government requests these sods to stay over beyond their retirement because no one wants to join the army and infuse the ranks with new blood. It's not a lucrative career to be a uniformed soldier, especially when you are not a commissioned officer". I then reasoned that they need to go to black townships and rural schools on career Day and inform those kids about what the army can do for them. It should be like the US 'YOUR ARMY NEEDS YOU'. But first we want to see their kids in uniform at Lohatla as well.
"They used to come to our school", another friend retorted. His former school is a few kilometres from the eatery where we were devouring our Mozambican pizzas and pork ribs with zest. We then had tea then beer.

Then the Congolese friend said that the problem with SANDF ageing was that the youth looked at the army as the a last career option, an area you go to when you have failed in everything. They are more like a career in the police. There's no child who aspires to be a corporal or carve himself a career as a securocrat. They are alienated by those ex-MK old men at the top of the hierachy who want to wield a sword as if they were once soldiers even though they were just a bunch of bomb-planting idiots. He then added that the SANDF should have learnt from the Lesotho invasion of 1996 that 'our soldiers lack endurance'. They have resigned everything (including their hearts) to technology. They think that their (Rooivalks) gunships can win a war while at the end of every aerial campaign you still have to walk throught the city. They should ask the Yankees and Russians.
"That's why they are being given a hard time by boys in the DRC. Those ill-equipped armies have soliders who have a heart. You know the Chief of Staff of the Ugandan Army has occupied the same position in three countries", he said - informing us the career soldier is some sort of a mercenary who loves adventure and who started his adventure when he was just 27 years old. What is missing in SANDF?
"They don't have a heart. The Ugandan, Zimbabwean and Rwandan armies are more infrantry ready than the SANDF will ever be. South Africa only has aerial and naval capabilities but one doubts if they can fire their rifles and hit a target"

Okay, our point of departure was the skinny Colonel who did not look ready to shoot anything. Another guy said that even though the army is not wholly about shooting people as there are various careers like engineering the problem was that an army engineer is earning five times less than his counterpart in private sector. Our Congolese popped in with new info, "You know when Tanzanian soldiers went to topple Idi Amin they were given a hard time due to a topographical disadvantage until engineers stepped in and drilled a tunnel to take away the mounted advantage Amin's soldiers had. And that's how he was toppled".

But then why would a child become an engineer in the army and be expected to build a bridge in a day to move six ton tanks and be paid R8000 a month when they can build one foot bridge in six months and be paid R40 000 a month? Something for Defence Minister Sheila Sisulu to ponder about as she tries to have as many kids as possible looking at the army as lucrative as being teachers and Home Affairs clerks - where the perks are limitless. (Teachers' perks include sleeping with learners while Home Affairs is selling IDs to foreigners for pocket money)

The question still stands, 'Anyone for the army?' Our country is not safe by a long shot. If our soldiers are not skinny they are fat - there's just no middle ground with them. The fit young ones are in the Medical Corps which means they don't need to crawl and shoot people between the eyes but dress them after they have been grazed by the skinny ones and commandeered by the fat ones. We ain't safe, if six millions Zimbabweans managed to cross our border - imagine if they were all armed and here to topple the government.

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5/26/10

NEWS

My Hood Comes Alive!

More than ten rappers with the ability to spit fire when provoked and b-boys are billed to perform at this year’s first installment of Luv Ur Hood Hip Hop sessions. Seasonally themed Marope Reya ma ja in line with the Winter season the show on the first week of June promises to live up to the reputation of these ghetto story-telling occasions modeled after traditional camp-fire tales where oral literature was imparted. In the Afrika we lost knowledge was inculcated over campfire by the elders and the same went for literature. Stories passed from one generation to the next without having been written down.

Organisers of the gig Masta H and Mr Doo told Kasiekulture that while they are bringing the house down with raw indigenous lyrics and other facets of hip hop this Winter show will also promote entrepreneurship and life-skills. They are not the ones who see rap as being an art for the starving but a platform which if well-explored can make businesspeople out of emcees. “We want businesspeople from around Bushbuckridge to come aboard and sponsor aspects of this session. We want them to emulate the example of Geesound Promotions who have been our sound system sponsor since we started. They need to understand that this is part of our celebration of Youth Month and welcoming the FIFA World Cup to our shores” said Masta H, urging business to come aboard. Businesspeople can, according to the two organisers buy and print t-shirts, sponsor prizes or just pump money into the event.

Mr Doo added that they have engaged Love-Life – the youth sexuality and lifeskills organisation to use the opportunity to inculcate life skills on the youth who grace the sessions. “We want to see more women emcees coming through as we currently only have one and we need more”, he said. Familiar faces billed to perform include the lyrical genius Mr Doo, the spitfire Masta H, silent assassins The Mighty Killaz, gigabyten 3G and suave Katsuko. Katsuko will also bring some emcees from Gauteng to share skills with locals.

Bushbuckridge Local Municipality is showing commitment and we are currently awaiting their input. We hope for more youth taking part since this is our way of taking the youth away from the streets and channeling their energies into an avenue worth pursuing” said Masta H. He said he was impressed with the co-operation they seem to be receiving from their municipal regional manager.

Dwarsloop based rapper/entrepreneur and blogger Tshwarelo eseng Mogakane of Makgema Entertainment is also expected to perform and retail his two CDs Hit List and Chisa Spankan’ Vol I at the sessions. The last session of 2009 was graced by Kwani Experience’s Nkoto Malebye who delivered a freestyle performance, much to the amusement of the crowd.

Katsuko says they hope to hold their next session at the newly completed Shatale Community Park which will be a Fan Park during the FIFA games.

The Luv Ur Hood session will be held on 5 June 2010 at Kabila’s Car Wash. They start at 13h00 and entrance is free. Anyone wanting to take part should contact Katsuko or Masta H at +27720320805 and +27761609278. Anyone willing to sponsor can email Katsuko at km1984@live.co.za or hook up with him on Facebook/Khutso ‘Katsuko’ Malele.

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5/19/10

TRU

Shall Not Fear No Man...
An alleged ATM bomber has been approached with an offer to kill me by elements bent on suppressing the truth about what is wrong with schools in Bushbuckridge. Over the months I have bravely written about how teachers in schools have allegedly had a field day sleeping with learners while some allegedly misappropriate school funds.

The response to my first expośe was to visit a sangoma to try and kill my investigation. Probably further instructions might have included what needs to happen to the writer. As you all know the investigation is still continuing and the writer is still here – in one piece.

After the latest expośe at Ditau High School I learnt from a very reliable source that a hitman has been commissioned to carry out a hit. I know the alleged hitman as he is alleged to be an ATM bomber who has received military training with the South African National Defence Forces. When I got wind of the tip-off I asked how does an alleged ATM bomber take out a journalist? Blow me with explosives in my house or hide some under a car I’m using? Or as a former soldier he’ll just snipe me from a distance with a rifle. Or maybe send one of his group who don’t know me quite well to cut my throat with a knife and make it look like a robbery.

It might sound strange that I’m not afraid of being a marked man. It does not come as a surprise as a teacher at Ditau High School has been enquiring from friends if I’m married or not. I don’t take kindly to such intelligence gathering gimmicks but my resolve is that I shall not let the truth die because some people want to take me out. I know that the same hitman was hired to kill School Governing Body Chairperson Platus Mokoena. A meeting was arranged in the belly of the night between Mokoena, the hitman and the man who hired him to iron out a deal.

The truth should survive all of us. When we are gone we should be remembered for having championed the truth and put our communities first instead of our narrow selfish materialistic needs. It puzzles me that some people want to be remembered for abusing learners, mismanaging school resources and ordering the murder of journalists.

The community whose stories I keep writing while it maintains its silence in the face of such moral decay should be the ones left with the burden of having amongst its midst people who are willing to sink to killing inorder to conceal their evil deeds. I have recently observed a car following me in the evenings but it’s okay. We all die at some stage.

I told a friend that not only am I not afraid of being killed by the hitman, a boy I grew up with and who I know all too well, ordered by people I know quite well, who were once my role models and whose children are my friends, but I fear no man – wealthy or poor.

Like Shabir Shaik said during his trial, “I walk in the shadow of the Lord”. I shall fear no evil.



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Shall Not Fear No Man But God

A suspected alleged ATM bomber has been approached with an offer to kill me by elements bent on suppressing the truth about what is wrong with schools in Bushbuckridge. Over the months I have bravely written about how teachers in schools have allegedly had a field day sleeping with learners while some allegedly misappropriate school funds.

The response to my first expośe was to visit a sangoma to try and kill my investigation. Probably further instructions might have included what needs to happen to the writer. As you all know the investigation is still continuing and the writer is still here – in one piece.

After the latest expośe at Ditau High School I learnt from a very reliable source that a hitman has been commissioned to carry out a hit. I know the alleged hitman as he is alleged to be an ATM bomber who has received military training with the South African National Defence Forces. When I got wind of the tip-off I asked how does an alleged ATM bomber take out a journalist? Blow me with explosives in my house or hide some under a car I’m using? Or as a former soldier he’ll just snipe me from a distance with a rifle. Or maybe send one of his group who don’t know me quite well to cut my throat with a knife and make it look like a robbery.

It might sound strange that I’m not afraid of being a marked man. It does not come as a surprise as a teacher at Ditau High School has been enquiring from friends if I’m married or not. I don’t take kindly to such intelligence gathering gimmicks but my resolve is that I shall not let the truth die because some people want to take me out. I know that the same hitman was hired to kill School Governing Body Chairperson Platus Mokoena. A meeting was arranged in the belly of the night between Mokoena, the hitman and the man who hired him to iron out a deal.

The truth should survive all of us. When we are gone we should be remembered for having championed the truth and put our communities first instead of our narrow selfish materialistic needs. It puzzles me that some people want to be remembered for abusing learners, mismanaging school resources and ordering the murder of journalists.

The community whose stories I keep writing while it maintains its silence in the face of such moral decay should be the ones left with the burden of having amongst its midst people who are willing to sink to killing inorder to conceal their evil deeds. I have recently observed a car following me in the evenings but it’s okay. We all die at some stage.

I told a friend that not only am I not afraid of being killed by the hitman, a boy I grew up with and who I know all too well, ordered by people I know quite well, who were once my role models and whose children are my friends, but I fear no man – wealthy or poor.

Like Shabir Shaik said during his trial, “I walk in the shadow of the Lord”. I shall fear no evil.

TO COMMENT ON THIS POST GO TO OUR FACEBOOK PAGE: THE Kasiekulture BLOG & write your comment on the wall

5/11/10

TRU

Ode to a Beloved - Khutsa Ngwato

One never really draws pleasure out of writing obituaries. They are saddening because they are mostly the last stories we write about people we love(d). The last chance we have to eulogise them and label them saints. However I got a feeling this won’t be the last time I blow Steve Warrel Matsane’s trumpet and sing his praises. I hope to revisit his memory when he receives his due national honour for the countless hours he put in his struggle to uplift those who had far less than himself.

Matsane, who was born on 01 March 1978 passed away on Workers’ Day (01 May 2010) after a protracted illness. His elder brother Edward Matsane said that Steve carried the pain of being unwell through the various travels he took with his troupe of children – mostly orphans who he was deeply involved in teaching traditional dance, music and other aspects of tradition.

He started his school at Malengeza Primary and later moved on to Mathipe Senior Secondary (Marite Village - Bushbuckridge). After matric he formed Steve Youth Development Traditional Dancers without any money to fund his vision. A businessman friend continued to finance the group and their travels until recently. Later on Steve had a stint as a volunteer at Community Radio Bushbuckridge. That is where the media bug sunk its teeth into him. To his very last breath Steve babysat the performers who gave their all to make his dream of developing the youth of not only Marite Trust but Mpumalanga as well, a reality.

Matsane loved kids with all his heart. Every conversation you had with him he would always talk about the European countries he wanted to take the children to dance. It is a dream he harboured even when he moved on to work for Bushbuckridge News as a journalist – splitting his time between deadlines and cultural work.

There actually are few people who have met Steve and never got touched by his jovial mood, his spirit and hoarse voice. He has been many things, a SAFA Bushbuckridge South under-14 and 16 coach, a political activist, a cultural worker and a truly giving person. He would have loved to see the FIFA World Cup 2010.

He was an altruistic spirit for whose loss Mpumalanga, and by extension South Africa is poorer. Matšhaba seboni, marata go retwa, magana bosa, my friend and colleague, I swear this is not a goodbye. I shall write an extended profile of your short life when you finally receive that Order of Ikhamanga, posthumous.

Poet John Donne rightfully orated, “Death be not proud, though others have deemed thee mighty and dreadful/ for thou art not so”. And Marite is forever indebted to this young departed soul. Steve is survived by three brothers and two sisters. He was buried on Saturday (May 07, 2010) at Marite Trust. Khutsa Ngwato.


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