The message from the rent-a-crowd outside the Pietermaritzburg high court was loud and clear: Jacob Zuma will always be their boo (yes, I know that’s a stale throwback to the early 2000s, but so is Zuma, so let’s call it even).
Local ANC apparatchiks, however, aren’t buying it. Provincial secretary Mdumiseni Ntuli and provincial chairperson Sihle Zikalala are booed but unbowed, and have put the fiasco outside the Pietermaritzburg court firmly at the feet of a particular favourite of politicians around the world: unknown agitators from Elsewhere, or in this case, the Free State and Mpumalanga.
According to Ntuli, a “preliminary report” had revealed that the “10, if not 15, comrades” involved in the booing were “not from KZN”, although if they were, the provincial ANC would try to “understand what could’ve really motivated them”, presumably by asking them if it was cash, of it they were open to accepting IOUs should they ever be needed to go and boo someone in, say, Gauteng.
It’s another dated reference, this time about a famous diva who will forever be associated with a vast shipwreck, but since that also describes Jacob Zuma, let’s call it even again.
It’s all typically small and sordid. But I do find the squalid little affair delightful in one respect, in that it has confirmed the existence in SA of a booming booing industry, suggesting there is hope for people who want to be professional performers but can’t hold a note or remember lyrics more complicated than “Whoooo, hssss!”
Yes, OK, the Free Staters and Mpumalangans outside that court weren’t exactly opening for Celine Dion. (I know. It’s another dated reference, this time about a famous diva who will forever be associated with a vast shipwreck, but since that also describes Jacob Zuma, let’s call it even again.)
In every other respect, however, they were living the showbiz dream: travelling cross-country on chartered buses for a one-night-only performance, broadcast live to the nation. Fame! Remember my name! You don’t know it? Well, I’m pretty sure it’s in the preliminary report …
I have to know more. For example, were there auditions? How many aspirants stood centre stage and gave their best boo to arrive at those final 10 if not 15 comrades? And what were the criteria? Is there some sort of sliding scale, where volume makes up for endurance or vice versa? If someone doesn’t have a particularly sonorous boo, can they still book their seat on that midnight bus to Pietermaritzburg if they can hold their thin, reedy boo for two minutes without drawing breath?
Ntuli tried to sound outraged, but I think he was a little bit impressed when he told the press: “To simply arrive in the province and start doing what they did is clearly a blatant indication of how these people were prepared long before they departed Mpumalanga and Free State.”
Damn straight. I’m glad somebody recognised the weeks of hard work that went into a performance like this, to say nothing of how well they were prepared on the bus, sucking throat sweeties or sipping honey-infused tea as they were gently warmed up by their choir leader, taking them through arpeggios of boos like a barn full of rented owls.
No, to the musical stars of Magical Msholozi’s Travelling Circus and Cabaret, I say: bravo!
Would you like to comment on this article?
Sign up (it's quick and free) or sign in now.
Please read our Comment Policy before commenting.