Butchery amid the Babbling Waters

An Open Letter to 'Reverend' Kemo Waters

Dear Comrade Kemo,

THE moment I heard about your message on Twitter suggesting that white people ought to be snuffed out like the vermin they are, I thought it important to write to you without delay. Please, sir, may I be spared? I know what you are thinking. Spare Trovato and, by the end of the day, the other five million white people will also want to be spared. Yes, mercy has a tendency to snowball out of control, I agree, but I deserve special treatment because I am not a bona-fide white. I don't, for example, understand the rules of rugby. Also, I have had my DNA tested and doctors aren't altogether certain that I am entirely human. They say I have tiger blood. Like Charlie Sheen.

I understand you own a business called the KemoTherapy Institute of Truth. Well done. This country needs religious entrepreneurs with a sense of humour. If someone joins your institute under false pretences, does their hair fall out?

Waters. That's an interesting name for an African. What is it - Scottish? The only Waters I've ever come across was my old tennis coach, and he was whiter than Prince William. You'll be happy to know that I had him killed. My coach, not Prince William.

People who claim to know you say that your penchant for mass murder is a bit out of character. It just goes to show you never really know the people who know you. It's always the quiet ones that get it wrong. At heart, we all harbour a desire to eliminate large segments of society. This very morning in Kommetjie, I was cut off by a snoek fisherman in a 1972 Datsun dragging a filthy boat on an unroadworthy trailer. I immediately issued a call for all Datsun-driving snoek fishermen to be put to death. Well, I tried to, but my assassin isn't answering his phone. I imagine the worthless swine is still celebrating New Year's Eve. That's the Serbs for you.

Your breaking point reportedly came after you and your family were made to sit at the bar in a busy Camps Bay restaurant for half an hour before being seated. No wonder you called for the entire white population to be murdered in their beds. In these situations, it is only the darkies who are directed to the bar. When white people rock up at a crowded restaurant in the middle of the holidays without having made a reservation, they are quickly ushered to a secret room to be entertained by Turkish belly-dancers and fed gourmet finger snacks lightly dusted with the very best cocaine.

I stole a look at your Twitter page and found this: "Holiday has ended ... back to the grind. Biblical studies!" Then, four tweets later: "The only way to end racism is to kill a material number of whites." You say you're an author? Here's a title for your next book: From Jesus to Genocide in Four Easy Tweets.

Listen. If my hit man doesn't sober up soon, can I borrow one of yours? I'll have him back by lunch on Tuesday. Given how many abelungu are still hanging around in this country, I expect you will want to make a start as soon as possible. Have you done the sums? If you hope to be finished by the end of the year, you will have to kill 570 white people every hour of every day. I don't want to sound racist (some of my best friends are genocidal maniacs), but I think you might have trouble rounding up enough darkies who are willing to put in the extra hours. Bludgeoning is heavy work, my friend. And genocide doesn't come with a car allowance.

You may find it hard to believe, but not all white people are alike. Some (not me) may even be prepared to commit suicide to save you the trouble of getting someone to kill them. Hopefully you will see this as a genuine expression of goodwill and not merely another treacherous attempt to cheat black people out of their right to vengeance.

I understand you are also a DJ. Good man. The world needs more DJs. Do you take requests? If so, Nick Cave's Murder Ballads would make the most wonderful soundtrack for the genocide. However, you may want to go traditional for this one. Something from the more violent Gospels, perhaps. By the way, if you're still looking for a name for your new church, I think the Babbling Waters Church of Latter Day Butchers has a nice ring to it.

Oh, dear. I see on your Facebook page that you studied at Rand Afrikaans University. That explains everything.