Former president Jacob Zuma and President Cyril Ramaphosa at the ANC national conference in Nasrec in December 2017.

In a satarical column addressed to President Cyril Ramaphosa, Bhekisisa Mncube writes that Jacob Zuma has been showing his posterior to South Africa for the longest time.

Chief Dwasaho, the sands are shifting, heralding an era of sea change. uBaba kaDuduzane (soothe others), no Mziwoxolo (house of refuge) Edward Zuma and a band of 25 et al. has turned traitor, wielding the Spear of the Nation (uMkhonto weSizwe) to stab you squarely in the back. This betrayal comes after a long, fruitless wait of over 15 years for his much-coveted Mshini Wami.

For those still green in the thicket of politics, the former head honcho of the ANC, ex-president of South Africa, once a staunch ANC devotee, and a veteran of sorts – assuming the cap fits – was once famed for his spirited rendition of ‘Mshini Wami’, echoing his yearning for ‘My Machine Gun’. He cried out to the heavens and any deaf ears that might care to listen, beseeching them to reunite him with his beloved machine gun. Yet, this December, on the very day of the 16th, to be exact, he turned his back on his cherished ‘Mshini Wami’. In its stead, he grasped a gleaming trinket, seemingly hell-bent on committing regicide.

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Ah, speaking of shiny objects, let’s not forget even the most politically uninitiated among us might prick up their ears at the mention of ‘uMkhonto weSizwe’, or MK for short. Yes, you guessed it right – that was the muscle, the armed wing of the ANC. Some would have you believe it was less of an armed wing and more of a spectacle of armed propaganda. How curious, then, that this so-called ‘armed propaganda’ spawned a hefty 597-page scholarly tome titled ‘uMkhonto weSizwe: The ANC’s Armed Struggle’. Mind you, it wasn’t penned by the obscure ANC branch secretary; instead, it’s the brainchild of the academic Thula Simpson. But I digress. 

Trailblazer of the world’s first fire pool

Right, where were we? Oh, back to uBaba, the trailblazer with the world’s first fire pool, the man behind the swankiest private presidential pad on the planet. Remember him, the erstwhile occupant of Mahlamba Ndlopfu in Pretoria? The Nkandla crooner who gave his voice to post-apartheid South Africa, once thick as thieves with the Guptas. Ah, and let’s not gloss over his little stunt with Brian Molefe – catapulted into Parliament for what, a blink-and-miss stint, only to land back in the cushy CEO chair at Eskom for keeps. The audacity! 

As I pen my musings about uBaba, let me elucidate why. On 16 December, Jacob Gedleyihlekisa Mhlanganyelwa Zuma, the son of Gcinamazwi, a name meaning “keep your words”, and Nokubhekisisa, signifying “to look with a piercing eye” Zuma, announced with great fanfare that he no longer had faith in your leadership. Henceforth, he will, “no longer vote for the ANC of Ramaphosa but uMkhonto weSizwe” – his words, not mine. Obviously, there’s a caveat: uBaba remains within the ANC tent, retaining the camaraderie and perks of being a former leader, yet metaphorically speaking, he urinates within that very same tent. But we have been here before, haven’t we? I did write ‘The Zuma Planet’ and earlier diagnosed uBaba with pseudologia fantastica syndrome. “Aphi amanga ami?” – “Where are my lies?” uBaba exists in a dreamlike state, uttering falsehoods not for any discernible reason but to gratify Zuma and feed the ‘Zuma Planet’ with hot air.

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uBaba’s household, true to his own intriguing nature, boasts a name as captivating as he is. The presidential homestead, replete with its infamous firepool, goes by ‘KwaDakwadunuse’ – a Zulu jest that roughly means “when you are drunk, you are free to show your arse” And flaunt he did, right in your face, my leader, without any provocation. Oh, how I long to say this is all a concoction, spun to tickle the fancy of the Hilton tannies or to mollify the ever-vigilant woke brigade. For those not versed in isiZulu, even uBaba’s given names are laced with meaning: ‘Gedleyihlekisa’ suggests a sly grin amid deceit, and ‘Mhlanganyelwa’ paints the picture of a man shadow-boxing with endless, imaginary foes. Who’s ready to buy into the yarn that a trio of foreign spy outfits are plotting uBaba’s political demise à la Waterloo?

In other words, a man whose umbilical cord lies buried in the iNkandla forest, born of a disease-free womb belonging to a woman who swears by keeping her word, Gcinamazwi, and a husband always on the lookout, Nokubhekisisa gave birth to a deceitful man, Gedleyihlekisa. He, unprovoked, has been showing South Africa his posterior for the longest time. From his loins, either comfort or refuge has been offered. Ubani lo (who is this) Zuma? 

Send me to KwaDakwadunuse, my man, for eh… with uBaba. 

– Bhekisisa Mncube is a colmnist with The Witness. His new book, The Ramaphosa Chronicles, is available for sale at www.madeindurban.co.za.

*This column was originally published in The Witness.

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