Two Bits: Walk on me, I’m a doormat

Is anyone particularly shocked at the tale of corruption pouring out of the mouth of ex-Bosasa executive Angelo Agrizzi? I am disappointed and saddened, but not shocked. We seem to have become impervious to exposure of crimes of bribery, theft and dishonesty that, in some countries, would cause governments to fall.

The label of the Zondo commission as an inquiry into state capture is too good a name for what is straight Mafia-style crime. But if state capture also covers the state’s failure to protect the interests of its citizens – even collusion with criminals – then the name will do.

Of course, we have only heard one side of the Bosasa story so far and no doubt the Watsons and others named will put up a furious defence, if it comes to that, but as with the Guptas the pile of evidence appears so high and so detailed that there is little doubt of dishonesty of immense proportions. Stories of feeding at the state trough have been circulating for 20 years or more, but no one in their wildest imagination could have conjured up the outright theft of billions of rands of taxpayers’ money by businesspeople, politicians and officials alike.

What I want to know is, what happens next? Hearing all this is welcome, but I want to see a lot of people go to jail. Not one or two slaps on the wrist while the rest skip off to Dubai, Delhi or Dubrovnic to wallow in their stolen millions, but real jail time and real confiscation of property.

The people who have suffered from their looting are you, me and every citizen of this country. Especially the poor, who have been waiting patiently for decades for an improvement to their lives. Money that should have been building houses, roads and creating jobs for the many has been splashed on expensive houses and cars for the greedy few.

A farmer was telling me this weekend that his labourers have no sense of outrage at the theft of state funds by their leaders. Zuma is the chief and it is time of the chief and his family to eat, is their thinking. If not exactly a custom, it is an age-old story. Did the people rise up when Mugabe was raping Zimbabwe? Not so much. Are the Swazi people furious at the extent their king uses the state as his personal plaything? Not a bit of it. Walk over me, I’m a doormat.

Two Bits: Off to a good start

We are just so unused to having an open discussion about political realities and insisting on repercussions for failure. The raging about Donald Trump and the interminable back and forth over the United Kingdom’s exit from the European Union might appear to be so much noise, but what is happening there is democracy in action. Everybody is given space to have their say and sometimes politicians even resign over points of principle. Good heavens, their politicians have been forced to resign for fiddling their expense claims, let alone being up to their tails in the state trough. That’s the key, isn’t it? Responsibility.

On another note, I sympathise with the angry youths who took to the streets last week because they are without jobs and a Shakaskraal factory had not employed them, but really, they are aiming at the wrong target. A business that sets up on the North Coast does so for a variety of reasons, among them the availability of land, proximity to the airport or its markets and good transport routes. In this case it is apparently a fairly specialised business which requires a certain level of technician. While some could be sourced locally, not all vacancies could. Blocking the road and burning tyres might vent some frustration, but it does not solve the problem. The employer could become discouraged enough to close down and move elsewhere, and then what? Zero jobs, is what.

Somebody is feeding these young people wrong information for political gain. My three-year-old grandson could understand that driving investment away is never going to solve any problem of joblessness.

No business equals no jobs equals no money. What people need is education, in spades, at every level from preschool to tertiary and technical. Then they need to grasp that education and make opportunities for themselves.

I attended my 50th matric reunion at the weekend and of course we got around to discussing our teachers. We had attended a Catholic school when the religious order that ran the school was in decay, so many of the teachers didn’t have their heart in it. But we agreed that our single best teacher was a civvie, a Mr MacNeill, an English teacher who encouraged us to dream. He advised me to go into newspapers (too thick for anything else) and it was with one of my classmates that I learned how to take photographs and operate a darkroom – both essential ingredients in starting this newspaper, before the days of digital. Dream, then make your dreams reality.

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I made a beginner’s mistake and went shopping on an empty stomach. I am now the happy owner of aisle 7.

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