Stop talking, Tito, and do something about civil service fat cats
More than 29,000 of those civil servants get more than a million rands annually. Get those 29,000 snouts out of the trough, Tito!
Reducing the public sector wage bill will meet with resistance. Picture: REUTERS
Dear Tito,
We understand your message: our economy is in deep trouble.
When I listened to your speech on Wednesday, I didn’t see creative solutions. Only the expectation that the taxpayer has to fork out even more.
But don’t look at us, the citizens of this weeping country, to turn this ship around. We’re milked dry.
It’s not our job to fix the problems government got us into, Tito.
I realise everyone is trying to tell you what to do, and that is to be expected. Opinions are, after all, like … well … I almost said opinions are like jobs – everyone has one. But a lot of us don’t.
My biggest concern is our civil service wage bill. Out of every rand we pay in taxes, 46 cents is used to pay the salaries of lazy fat cats instead of using it for service delivery.
More than 29,000 of those civil servants get more than a million rands annually. Get those 29,000 snouts out of the trough, Tito!
Yes, I know you now expect them to pay for their own cellphones and to only buy slightly luxurious vehicles. But that’s not enough. Let them Uber like the rest of us!
It just sounds so unfair that we have to pay more than half of our income – much more if you consider fuel levies and VAT – to government while 29,000 fat cats can, hypothetically speaking, party with Johnnie Walker Blue and sushi on the flat, naked bellies of sexy Instagram celebrities.
The economy warrants a state of emergency. We need growth, we need foreign investment, we need real jobs, we need electricity.
We need you and your boss, Uncle Cyril, to restore investor confidence in the country and to get the dollars and yuans and Deutsche marks flowing in.
And I’m afraid your speech on Wednesday did little for confidence.
I liked some of the things you said. But talk is cheap – money buys me and the three-year-old Egg a kota.
The way you handled the Eskom elephant in the room was particularly disappointing. You simply kicked the can down the road.
We, the citizens, plan to turn this oily wreck into a shining, purring Beemer fit for a government fat cat. Do join us.
Dirk Lotriet. Picture: Alaister Russell
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