SA politics turned me into a liar

My children no longer believe in me. They call me a liar. They say I break my promises. I blame South African politics. Many years ago, I laughed at the idea of Jacob Zuma becoming President.

“Don’t be ridiculous”, I said with the confidence of a mother who is never wrong. “Do you REALLY think that with our history, with everything we’ve fought for, a man up on rape and corruption charges would EVER become President?  Don’t be ridiculous.  Now finish your broccoli and do your homework”.

 “I, Jacob Zuma, do solemnly swear….”

Strike one against mothers who think they know what they’re talking about.  Since then I’ve had a litany of strikes against me.  And not just about the never ending Strikes!

“Teachers would NEVER go on strike”, I told them, “Like Nurses, and Municipal workers, they deserve to be respected “.

“Robert Mugabe will NEVER survive the will of his people”, I predicted confidently.  “He’ll be gone in a matter of weeks”, I told them some years back.

“Brother Leader Gadaffi is here to stay!” I announced with a guffaw, in reply to my young son's question about the Libyan leaders’ longevity. “And IF he ever went, of COURSE our Government would support the Libyan Rebels.  We will ALWAYS do the right thing!”

Strike two! Strike three! Strike four! 

“We would NEVER appoint a Chief of Justice who’s a Homophobe, and gender biased”, I told my older son, who was preparing for a school debate, “And certainly not one who’s SO unimaginative he’s had to use his first name as his second name as well!”

Strike Five!

This, by the way, is not criticism of the country.  It’s about my failure as a mother.  A mother who keeps giving her kids the wrong answers.

I’ve decided to end all of that now, and use Julius Malema as my focal point.

 I used to tell them that Julius Malema was just a firebrand.  He was only there as an escape valve for the disaffected youth.  “He’s just a passing phase”, I’d say.  “Not someone with a long term political future”

 I realise now, I somehow have to regain my children’s trust.  Now, when they ask me if Julius Malema will become our next President, I swallow hard and say, “Probably.”

My Inner Logic screams out at me. This will NEVER happen. But my Inner Logic also screamed out at me,  that we’d NEVER have a Secrecy Bill.

Strike Six!

 Now, in the name of good mother, child relationships, I’m preparing them for the eventuality that the mines will be nationalized, Botswana will be invaded and eating Sushi off women’s naked stomach’s will be the order of the day.

I’ve bought the book ‘The World According to Julius Malema’, and we’re all studying it.  I’ve also got the Malema flags, T-shirts and the Che Guavara Berets.  In our house, my two boys, Comrade Noah and Comrade Matt, don’t refer to him as that idiot Malema anymore.  From now on it’s simply ‘Future President Malema’. 

Over the last few days, I, like most South Africans, have been following the events at Luthuli House.  And of course I don’t know what the outcome is going to be, although I have a sneaking suspicion, it doesn’t matter.  Malema is a powerful man, with a powerful following.

My Inner Logic still screams out at me that he can’t possibly be President anytime soon.  I KNOW that the Powers that be will see to it, that it NEVER happens.  In the meantime, for the first time, my children are well prepared.

Of course if it doesn’t happen, if logic prevails over idiocy, if by some chance Future President Malema is consigned to the scrap heap of history – my children will once again call me a liar and tell me I break my promises.  I’m more than happy to take that risk.

 Strike Seven? I certainly hope so.