Scrambling from one session of blackouts to the next, Gasant Abarder writes (by candlelight) in a new #SliceofGasant how, for the Cyril Ramaphosa presidency, the lights are off and no one is home. Our President is a nowhere man taking us on a dark road to nowhere.
Abarder, who recently launched his book, Hack with a Grenade, is among the country’s most influential media voices. Catch his weekly column here, exclusive to Cape {town} Etc.
I can understand why the Minister of Blackouts, Gwede Mantashe, feels rather nonchalant about the electricity crisis. He said as much because according to Gweezy we need to stop being dramatic, we’re not an island and South Africa is part of a global power crisis.
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Never mind that we’ve had these blackouts for the last 15 years in Mzansi, hey Gweezy?
You see, the reason it doesn’t matter too much for the Minister of Blackouts is because he obviously dresses in the dark. He is officially the wearer of the most ill-fitting suits in South African public life. In fact, forget power outages. It looks like the minister’s stylist is blind.
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By contrast, his boss, His Excellency, the President of Power Cuts, Cyril Matamela Ramaphosa, is rather a sharp dresser. The Powerless President cuts a fine figure in his tailored suits and hardly ever misses a beat – even when wearing a Madiba-style shirt.
Do clothes maketh the man? Not really. Although my mom taught me the finer things of dressing like a gentleman. I know the different cuts, how to iron pleats, the fabrics and the colours. On Saturday, it took me exactly 20 minutes to shop for a suit so I could MC the wedding of my work bestie because I knew exactly what such an occasion required.
Mrs A and I were suited and booted two hours before the wedding ceremony was due to start at 4pm, when loadshedding – for the second of three times on Saturday – was scheduled to kick in at home. For once, Mrs A was on time. She still looked absolutely sensational despite the rush to finish in time.
Cyril certainly doesn’t dress in the dark as his recent visit to the US (to shop for dollar-holding mattresses?) and his whistle-stop attendance at the queen’s funeral showed. But he may as well have been naked.
Beneath the boss-cut suit is a nowhere man taking us on a road to nowhere. Cyril is the original one-trick pony – valid for one ride. Good only during lockdown when the entire country’s attention was focused on staying alive and presidenting became unpresidented and he could ban Woolies rotisserie chicken, open sandals and ciggies.
I laughed rather derisorily when reading in the middle of these prolonged blackouts that the ANC was planning to build a high-speed train to Musina. Let’s hope that when we send Cyril to open it we send him as day-tripper on a one-way ticket, yeah. I feel for the people of Musina. They must be nauseous at the prospect of the ineptitude headed their way.
Back at the wedding, I kept up to date with the rugby on my phone and was careful not to divulge the score as guests were going to watch the Boks later. Had I been home, I would’ve missed half of it anyway thanks to the blackouts. I was grateful for small mercies.
Mrs A and I returned home to blackouts as the two sessions sandwiching the wedding. I found myself in pyjamas that didn’t match on Sunday morning because I got ready for bed in the dark.
Again, I wonder, what was Gwede’s excuse?
On the journey home, after around 10pm, I notice that from the wine estate on the outskirts of Kuils River to Kenwyn (now also known as Hanover Park West), the world had fallen on dark and hard times.
I passed so many suburbs where, blackouts or not, there just wasn’t enough to go around to keep the lights on. Past the R300-highway, onto the N2 and down Jan Smuts Drive. The nice things colonialism brought us rendered to mere ornaments of little use. As little use as our president is to us. The President of Smart Cities and pipe dreaming.
How many of the lights are out because of the blackout and how many out of sheer desperation?
Cyril will be fighting for his political life soon at the ANC’s elective conference. You can bet your bottom dollar – ahem – that the lights will be on for that spectacle. That is what the people have come to expect: the lights stay on for the party, but not for the people.
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Picture: @cyrilramaphosa / Instagram
