AS AN unreconstructed African - one who loves artichokes and appreciates Shakespeare's sonnets, in addition to maskanda riffs - I do not believe in white folks' crap, such as Friday the 13th.
Still, I cannot but observe how apt it is that this piece is coming out 13 days before the end of the grandmama conference of all grandmama conferences - Polokwane 12/07.
Says I: Let the party begin!
I have to say that the most bizarre act leading to Polo 2007 is the ANC Women's League's nomination for party president.
You can rationalise that its choice reflects democracy's evolution, that not all women are saints, and that men can represent unique aspirations of the gender they've oppressed for 3000 years.
But that's like asking the wolf to take care of your beloved child as you dash into the store for baby milk.
Now get this: I am no fan, but I am a supporter, of Thabo Mbeki, the politician. There it is, in black and white! I also support his now clearly hopeless quest for a third term as president of the ANC, and not of the country. But I'm tired of my man's paranoia, though I understand it.
Mbeki's paranoia has nothing to do with African dictatorship tendencies - that's just white noise. His paranoia comes with the hot position he occupies, but that's no reason to tolerate it. Also, his position on suspended prosecutions boss Vusi Pikoli is pretty much Byzantine witch-hunting.
Having said all that, I am Mbeki's man. Man enough, even, to accept defeat, and I wish to whisper to him: "Chief, forget Polokwane. Time for a tactical retreat."
But back to the Women's League. How come they did not nominate a woman for the top job? Sorry, Dimples, what's the reason for the existence of the league, then? Following Women's League logic, the party should stop race poli-tricks and consider the possibility of a white president. Kortbroek 2009?
Also, don't be surprised, come Zuma 2010, to see Fikile "Mbaula" - fire brazier - and his Youth League sidekick, Zizi Kodwa, become minister and deputy in the ministry of domestic animal affairs.
I cringe for the safety of the pets and bulldogs that the ANC elite keep in their high-walled mansions: "Ey, lock Spotty and Trudy in - ministers Mbaula and Kodwa are coming over for dinner."