My gripe with Anonymous

Anyone who can string together a few words has the power to make up the most insulting quote and attribute it to dear old Anonymous. He is everyone’s favourite person to quote, it seems.

My other problem with him is that he does not seem to age. I suppose this part extends to subtle jealousy. I need not be reminded that I am only in my early twenties. That is not seen as progressive by my emerging wrinkles.

Anonymous has a corner office in every imaginable medium: online, print, radio and television, Anonymous is sitting comfortably somewhere in there. Read your beloved daily newspaper, chances are he’s got a line somewhere in there. He has to be the most famous person on Earth. I bet you know him too!

I wouldn’t trust anything he says. I read the most intelligently written prose with notable attention but unwillingly start to withdraw as soon as he makes a dreaded appearance. He is just not credible! Is he? For starters, he cannot be traced and can therefore not answer for himself when the need arises. Why bother quoting him!

Well, it’s not always that simple, I have to very often remind myself of this fact. Of course when Anonymous does exist, there is sometimes a great need to protect him, or her. For instance, in the case of a high profile, sensitive investigation he must not be named. In that case, it is highly acceptable, even recommended that Anonymous feature as just that.

Without getting into Media Law and even outlining Section 205 of the Criminal Procedure Act I’ll ask you kindly for just one thing. Granted, you don’t owe me any favours. But please make Anonymous less famous (or infamous) where the possibility of such does exist.

Bad habits...

Let’s talk pet peeves. Grrr... Okay, I should know better than that. It’s no use complaining about anything, Phathu! You know what they say: nobody listens. Most of the time, that reigns quite true. Instead of experiencing desired change, you find yourself developing a nature of constantly complaining against your will. That sure defeats the purpose. Let’s count the steps you just take in reverse. Shall we?

Bottom line: complaining keeps you stagnant. Now, obviously this is something I know very well, yet my practical side of the brain cannot seem to grasp it as well as I’d like it to. It still picks out measly things such as some of the ‘overly unhygienic’ traits people portray. Sorry, I just exposed myself for being judgmental. I take that back.

Okay, I’ll give this another shot. I hate (ooh, but that’s a strong word) people who are inconsiderate. I won’t elaborate. It’s pretty straightforward… Something tells me I’m being subjective here. For that reason, I’ll accept all connotations of the word ‘inconsiderate’.

Any better?

Heck, nobody’s perfect. And I certainly can’t change anyone by complaining about it. Ever heard of the relationship between worrying and a rocking chair? Complaining is sometimes the same.

Now that we’ve got that out of the way, let’s conclude. They say when life throws you lemons, make lemonade. What do you then make when life throws traffic at you?

Wait, did I just take ten steps backwards?

Death? No thanks!

So, my man described me as ‘strange’ for asking him if he would die for me. As you can imagine, I did not quite get the pleasant response I was hoping for: yes. Well, let me rather contextualize the brief conversation for you. My exact question to him was whether or not he would willingly get run over by a runaway bus for me. Not only was I referred to as strange, the word crazy was also used.

My understanding is that his response was triggered by the proposed method of death – or is it suicide! I think that that is the case, since he shouted the words ‘runaway bus!’ I assume that he was pondering on the idea and could not, for the life of me, comprehend being hit by a runaway truck - deliberately. To be quite frank, I understand his reasoning, completely…

Nevertheless, how many people would consider giving their lives for someone else or a cause or their country? Do you think most of today’s politicians would die for South Africa? Not just politicians – you too. Think about this thoroughly, it is death we are talking about, after all. It would be interesting to see exactly how much this patriotism some people claim to have can actually stretch. Nevermind the manner of death, imagine something painless if you dare. I suppose the one I mentioned is rather drastic.

How many of us can echo the words of late American soldier Nathan Hale whose last words before he was hanged are reported to be: “I only regret that I have but one life to lose for my country”? Who even remembers late Indian political and spiritual leader Mahatma Gandhi, who was prepared to die for his religious beliefs? Rather than die for our country, some (if not most) of us would much rather be happy just dying in our country. But to die for it!

While dying for a cause (or country or person) might be daunting, killing for it sounds slightly less unbearable. Presented with a dilemma to “kill or be killed”, the average person would probably choose the former over the latter. That possibly includes me, possibly. That is partially why we strike back when provoked. Gandhi famously said the following words: "There are many causes that I am prepared to die for but no causes that I am prepared to kill for." I’m still thinking about this one.

Let me put it this way: we are not a world of selfless people, the majority of us that is. I’m speaking from personal observation here. Feel free to disagree, if you must.

Rediscovering poetry...a process

Years ago, I fell in love with poetry. It made so much sense... Now, years after opting for prose instead, I am giving it another chance. I am not following rules - I am simply writing. This is my first attempt in quite a while. The topic was not motivated by any particular experience.

When my soul died

I fell to my soiled knees and like a lost soul I just wept
My modest power was wobbly, no longer kept
In my heart, frustration had come and slept
When my soil died

All of life’s elements had turned their backs on me
Distressing feelings found a home in me
Life was an alias for burden, for goodness I could not see
When my soil died

My cries were muted long before I could even exhale
Tear after tear, a mind of victory could not prevail
The devil was at peace, for I uttered the word fail
When my soil died

Counting my flaws

For a perfectionist I sure am not perfect. I should have paid attention to those before my time who wisely said that nobody's perfect. Be it with regards to my physical form or otherwise, I lag. Yet I'd hate to, at any point, look at myself and not distinguish some goodness, and not see beauty. When I reflect, I want to consider my misgivings. Though I do not want to give them permission to chew away at any portion of my life, for it is far too precious for that.

Because of just how valuable it is, I cannot be wasting my time worrying about diminutive issues. It is somewhat disheartening that I cannot, after countless attempts, pronounce the letter 'R'. I cannot change that I was born with two left feet and any attempt to remedy that has been nothing short of comedy. I'm so over the fact that I have a small nose, which makes shopping for sunglasses a tiring mission. I need to constantly remind myself that not everyone appreciates my brutal honesty. My impatience is my biggest critic. My wanting every single detail to be perfect annoys even me.

As an ongoing process, I am learning to genuinely and completely embrace ALL that I have in my life. This means realising that regardless of whether or not I desire my traits, God wanted for them to feature in my life story. Holding any grudges against Him would just prove futile and effectively weaken me.

Truth be told, I actually would love to reach a satisfactory point where I can earnestly say to God: "let Your will be done". I refuse to hold back any longer as I add on more years to my young life. I also don't want to be left out in the hustle and bustle, among other things.

I am now finding comfort in the ability to be grateful for the good and the bad. I have crossed one to many intersections where all I could ask God was "why me?" instead of thanking Him. I want that to stop - immediately. Appreciating His perfect timing has proven a challenge thus far.
I'm working on it.

I want to be aware at all times that in life I am not superior to anybody. I have heard that comparing yourself to someone else qualifies as an insult to God - that does make sense. I have all that I do simply because God saw it fit to bless me this much. I yearn to be happy with what He has given to me. I want to show gratitude to Him - even when I feel as though it is not enough. At the same time, I don't want to sneer when I see someone else excel. Envy is not as harmless as people make it out to be. Jealousy on the other hand is nothing but an ugly parasite waiting to take away from me. I must therefore find it in myself to be pleased for others, no matter what.

Being too afraid has proved a mammoth failure in itself. It is a way of me voluntarily, yet inactively chilling my potential. I have to constantly assert to myself that there is absolutely nothing wrong with not succeeding, provided I do not recognise the phrase "giving up". I've tried to be perfect in the past. Yet somehow, in imperfecton, I specialise.

Rebirth by natural hair

When out of my sheer frustration and child-like curiosity decided to let go of my hair last year, I had no idea that the process would propel me towards a joyous and thoroughly sentimental trip.

Well it did, it was something of a catalyst in me gaining rigid confidence as a young woman – beyond the girl-mentality that I had just emerged from. I felt it was time to shed the hair partially because I was frustrated and had no idea what to do next. Nothing seemed to be exciting, or look better than the last – for the matter. I suppose, in fact I know, that I had lost interest in my hair. It had becoming boring. It felt like a tiresome, uninspiring chore I had to carry out every single day!

It may not make much sense to you, but being (very) near-bald awoke in me an urge to experiment – not just with my hair. I was a reassertion of the fact that I could be brave if I stopped limiting myself. I lived up to the ‘new beginning’ cliché. It was my new, treasured beginning. I may not have dumped my boyfriend, quit my job immediately, or shed a ton of friends – which I might, out of context, add I have very few of. However, I felt as though it was an opportunity for me to relive a part of my childhood. A part which entailed living out of the box and caring less about the consequences – among other things.

To be honest, I don’t think I’ve ever looked more beautiful than I do right now as I rock this afro. I am beautiful, to the point that I could date myself actually. Besides the fact that it’s impossible, someone wonderful has beat me to it already. It may sound slightly pompous, but it’s the first time I have ever experienced this, and boy is it a joy. PS: I recommend it.

The best part about wearing this hair is knowing for certain that this beautiful, rich hair is completely mine. Ever heard the question “what do you know for sure”? Well this has now made the list of things I know for sure. It’s not an expensive weave I have to remove after several weeks. As much as I like weaves for their admirable transformational powers, I must admit to loving my hair even more.

This might make very little sense to someone else, but being the true-to-form Pisces that I am, I happen to be a dreamy character of note. I love this dream.

'I'm not beautiful, I'm a black beauty'

If what the vast majority of people say is anything to go by, that is. It seems I am seldom just told: “you're beautiful”. Often, the compliment comes my way with an attachment entitled ‘complexion'.

Granted, I am dark. But who ever calls a light-skinned person a ‘fair-beauty’? You would think that beauty is reserved only of those who are not dark. Is it strange to see a dark-skinned person who is beautiful? Excuse me, but I don’t think so. In fact, I know that that is not the case. So what’s with the attachment, people?

The first time someone said the phrase ‘exotic beauty’ while describing my looks, I welcomed the compliment with a frank smile and offered a gracious ‘thank you’. However, never one to take much at face value, I looked up the word exotic.

It came up with synonyms such as “unusual”, “alien” and “foreign”. I should have asked the person who said it to me which meaning they intended, my mistake. But I’ll choose to blissfully assume it is in the context “out of the ordinary” or “striking”. Thanks again. Forgive me if I come across a little brash.

To be honest, the ‘black beauty’ phrase is one I have ignorantly embraced for years. But it was only in my later years that an alarm started to sound in my head. I suppose that growing up, I never thought much of it. What were these people really saying to me?

Have a look at the type of black women typically considered beautiful by society. The majority of them are so-called yellow bones. What does one’s colour shade matter? Had I been light in complexion, would I be somewhat superior and beyond reproach? No. Who is to say that I would be more pleasing to the eyes of those who already regard me as beautiful?

I may not be the only one who has seen girls who bear serious grudges against being dark-skinned. They unfortunately abhor their dark looks and envy those who were born many shades lighter than they are. They somehow fail to connect the dots and see that regardless of the shade of their skin they can still be beautiful. They may be light in complexion and be damn ugly.

There is even a market for people who secretly walk into pharmacies to increase the profits of companies that produce skin-lightening products to ‘enhance their beauty’. This seems to say that being dark is not okay.

The word ‘black’ is commonly associated with awful things. Take note: blackmail, black magic, blackguard, blacklist and black dog – to name a few. Not to sound like a bitter pessimist I’ll include ‘black belt’ and ‘Black Forest’ – in terms of my favourite flavour cake. How about I add the super brand Blackberry too? There is, afterall, a saying that goes ‘the blacker the berry, the sweeter the juice’. Hey, look, there’s ‘black beauty’ too. That’s where I, and other dark-skinned women, come in.

Yes. That’s where I come in. You see, I have deduced that for as long as I walk this Earth, I will be the only one spared from seeing the badge that loudly reads ‘black beauty’ fastened on my chest. Since it will be attached to me for life, I have no option but to wear it proudly and come to the realization that 'I am not beautiful, I’m a black beauty'.

Journalists, go back to class

Let’s talk media ethics. Journalists are taught that not only should they strive to deliver the story to their news editor within the specified deadline, but that they should also present it as accurately and as objectively as possible. Independence, independence, independence. That is unfortunately, mostly theoretical. Situations in real newsrooms do not tend to be so radiant.

On paper, this would obviously mean that as a journalist reporting on a story, I cannot place my allegiance with any political party, the government, or any business – among others. I cannot write a story on corruption to express favouritism and assign guilt to any party. Is that even what journalists are there for?

When former Cape Argus journalist Ashley Smith admitted to pocketing tens of thousands of rands in bribes in exchange for writing positively about former Western Cape premier Ebrahim Rasool, I thought of just how foiled things can get when we leave the classroom. Apart from that, Smith admitted to acting as a paid media strategist and advisor to Rasool.

Smith’s exercise was sponsored by public funds. Mind you, this is all occurring in a country riddled with service delivery protests, as ordinary people struggle to access the most basic of services.

That goes against everything journalists should be. Newly formed media organisation Projourn (Professional Journalists’ Association of SA) agrees, having released a statement befittingly titled “chequebook journalism’ abhorrent and unacceptable.

The organisation even compared the unethical acts to journalists who accepted bribes to candy coat apartheid, which we all know there is nothing sweet about.

Projourn also lauded Cape Argus on its approach of the issue. The newspaper carried a story on the allegations against Smith who worked as a senior political journalist and fellow former employee Joe Aranes. Aranes was former political editor.

“The admission by the Cape Argus, in a rare front page leader, that it failed its readers in this matter, as well as the editor’s reaffirmation of the paper’s core values is to be commended,” Projourn said.

Brown resigned from the newspaper during a disciplinary inquiry into the allegations. His actions, Projourn says, have brought journalism in South Africa into disrepute.

“Not only do we support those stalwart journalists who resist the demands that they be partisan in their reportage, but we abhor those who cross the line and succumb to the temptations of “chequebook journalism.”

Non-journalists, too, have opinions. On many occasions, I have been party to conversations in which normal people were bashing journalists. They seem to view them as nonobjective and full of lies in their reporting. While I do not completely support the statement, I will not just toss it away. Journalists are, before all else, human. They have issues, opinions, flaws, and sometimes ulterior motives. Many times, these do reflect in their work – be it for a good or bad purpose.

Now, as the Fourth Estate of society, journalists have a duty to society. They cannot sign up to fail, as that would mean failing society itself. Go back to the theories which were taught in class.

COPE - A new agenda to crash and burn?

Like politics – business is not known to be a pretty affair. A fair share of us must be familiar with the phrase ‘politics is a dirty business’. Do you think it exists merely because someone thought it would be great to string those words together?

Look at the impasse that Congress of the People (COPE) now finds itself in. There are numerous ‘leaders’, all to varying degrees seeking control over the party which has currently been sucked dry of any spark it may have had before. Could this be a phase before the death of the party or is this a mere stumbling block which will soon be overcome?

Those within COPE need to ask themselves, if the elections were a month from today, would they still perform as well as they did last year?

Party president Mosiuoa Lekota and deputy Mbhazima Shilowa are clearly not fans of one another. I wish I could document a blow by blow account of their rocky relationship, but I probably don’t even know the half of it.

In brief: Lekota accused Mbhazima of possibly fiddling with money. A debate over whether or not to hold an elective conference became news. Mbhazima and camp lodged a vote of no confidence against Lekota, which the court later nullified.

What a circus! I know of clowns at children’s parties, but I think COPE took this one too literally. This is politics – some may have to be dropped along the way – deal with it. A swift exit may not be all bad, Mr Lekota and camp. It seems you are no longer wanted.

Politics: you fight, and then those not aligned with you find reason to plot revenge – and sometimes your subsequent downfall. It is not always that you find the strength to rise again. One wonders if there is some kind of addiction to control here or if it is just the nature of politics (as we know it).

Parliamentary leader Mvume Dandala has recently added his name to the list of those who saw some kind of light and took a stance to resign. Reverend, you know that the church doors are always open. Perhaps politics is not your niche?

As for options available to COPE, it’s simple. Those who run things – whoever they may be – can continue on their path to destructing the party (as they seem to be doing) or they can redeem themselves and restore the ‘hope’ of their supporters.

In 1989, the aftermath of the recession left American property mogul Donald Trump battling to meet loan repayments. Times were tough. Money in its purest form was not common commodity. It was not a pretty time for business. Had he held a checklist, it would most likely read: business bankruptcy, check; personal bankruptcy, highly possible. It was at a point in his life where he could have closed shop and moved on to something else. He didn’t – look at him now.

Cope is the official opposition in five of South Africa’s nine provinces, which means it has a responsibility to those who voted for it. If COPE were a house it would be built by cement mixed with fizzy drinks sold at snacks stands at the circus. The party obviously benefited mostly from impulse voters, but that does not mean it is hopeless.

When it was launched on December 16 2008, COPE looked like it could be God’s answer to – among others – those who were not keen on being ruled by current South African president Jacob Zuma. Any current affairs follower knows he is a man no stranger to controversy – be it to do with allegations of rape or corruption. Sorry to say this, but right now Zuma must be grinning with satisfaction, saying “in your face!”

What happens from hereon? COPE, please assist.

The vuvuzela really must be annoying

The vuvuzela really must be annoying. Comedian Trevor Noah described it on Twitter as being "obnoxious" and "loud" - going as far as likening it to wayward ANC Youth League president Julius Malema.

There have been resounding calls to have it banned from World Cup matches. Popular goal-netters like Portugal's Cristiano Ronaldo and Argentina's Lionel Messi have expressed displeasure at the metre-long instrument South Africans love so much. FIFA president Sepp Blatter has (thankfuly) somewhat expressed support for the vuvuzela, also through Twitter.

Teams have blasted the 'plastic trumpet' - claiming that it hampers their communication on the field. Some audiologists have said that the vuvuzela has the potential to cause permanent hearing loss over time.

Self-appointed critics of the vuvuzela need to respect the fact that this is South Africa, and when soccer is concerned, the vuvuzela is culture. Blowing it is the country's signature celebration.

Let's face it, the vast majority of those too quick to criticise and judge the vuvuzela have never even blown one. Their lips, it seems, open to criticise them - not to examine them. They are so narrow minded that they deprive themselves of the infectious and joyous blowing locals are so fond of. Ai, deal with it.

Patriotism – is it really a wonderful thing?

Patriotism is loosely described as a love of and a devotion to one’s country.

It seems South African citizens who have been gripped by football fever ahead of what I hope will be remembered as 'the best Soccer World Cup ever' cannot say or ‘display’ patriotism enough.

Like many others, I admit that I love my country dearly. I would go as far as donning a gold and green badge with the words "proudly South African".

Ask me, however, if I would kill for it. Ask me if I would risk my life or die for it. As much as I say I love South Africa, I will without hesitation say no. Killing someone else's family in the name of patriotism? I'd much rather order take aways.

Academics and creatives, it seems, are not so keen on this devotion to one's country. Or is it just my observation?

Here are some interesting quotes on patriotism:

I like to see a man proud of the place in which he lives. I like to see a man live so that his place will be proud of him. ~Abraham Lincoln.

Our country is not the only thing to which we owe our allegiance. It is also owed to justice and to humanity. Patriotism consists not in waving the flag, but in striving that our country shall be righteous as well as strong. ~James Bryce.

Heroism on command, senseless violence, and all the loathsome nonsense that goes by the name of patriotism - how passionately I hate them! ~Albert Einstein.

I have no country to fight for; my country is the earth, and I am a citizen of the world. ~ Eugene V. Debs.

Today I envied South Africa

Writer's block was hellbent on having its way with me, but I decided to publish this either way:

Today I envied South Africa

I witnessed her enthused children honor her in earnest. They unashamedly blasted their plastic trumpets – vuvuzelas as they passionately label them.

Many others preferred silence. Nevertheless, they were beaming with unprecedented pride and joy. Adoring crowds within her offspring received the rest of the world for their winter stay down south.

The world's greatest stars had landed, there to illustrate their ball tricks on her groomed grounds.

Her own representatives donned gold and green. Their recent wins had indisputably captured the support of their inconsistent country.

I observed that swollen lips were really no stranger to her many children. A handful of whom you would incorrectly assume blew vuvuzelas for a living. Dusk, dawn and in between, vuvuzelas sounded. In all areas – rural, remote, urban, and wealthy – they still sounded.

Her children's minds were palpably stuck on a winning atmosphere, as euphoria clung to the roof of their mouths. Their waving flags shook critics who doubted her capability. She exceeded expectations and stood tall against disapproval; momentarily deafening pesky pessimists.

Her children had breathed new meaning to the word ‘patriotism'. The Soccer World Cup had arrived in South Africa, and they said they were ‘feeling it'. While I, the rest of the world, watched and envied South Africa.

Mr. President, how out of touch can you possibly be?

When President Jacob Zuma was elected into power last year, he listed paying attention to the plight of the poor as one of his key priorities while in Office.

Over a year later, the same man is surprised to see people in the country still live in squalors. I don’t know about you, but is this something new? We all know that poverty lives in our midst.

Zuma has advisors and he has unlimited access to information relating to socio-economic conditions. Surely, the president is aware of the level of poverty and the disgraceful, appalling living conditions some people wake up to each day.

Should the president not be playing ignorant, he really must be that out of touch. I will leave space for a third option. If he is out of touch with the issues of his own country and country men, how then can he lead successfully and impact on the lives of those that know these squalors as home.

If he is surprised at these conditions, how can he possibly uplift those that are suffering the effects of poverty? These are the types whose government houses have been illegally sold to those who can afford them and are not legally entitled to them.

People are poor out there and it does not seem to be getting any better. One can make peace with the fact that for as long as the human race exists on Earth, poverty will be an agonizing reality. That mentality however, would be equal to us giving up too soon and welcoming failure too easily. As has been too commonly said, we need to fight for change. Yes, we must dismiss cropping challenges that may try to hinder us. If we all do our bit, we may still not achieve perfection, but imagine the difference!

He seems under no illusion though when he states that the government must do more to deliver these houses faster as people cannot “live like pigs” some sixteen years after the country first embraced democracy. Bravo, absolutely true. But wait, where have I heard that one before? Oh ja, it is a politician’s common cliché.

What the Zuma government is putting aside for housing includes: R15 million for subsidies this year and a fund worth R1bn to assist citizens who do not qualify to receive credit assistance from banks or a subsidy form government. While it might not seem like much, more funds allocation may not necessarily make a difference.


You just have to look at the incline in service delivery protests to notice how dissatisfied residents of numerous areas in the country are. It’s not necessarily a matter of there being a lack of resources. We know that there is some money being set aside to build houses. And as we have witnessed all too often, a significant number of these houses do not see the ground, while quite a number of those that are built are unsuitable for safe human occupation.

Living in South Africa has shown that corruption happens and money disappears, while unjustified nepotism escalates. That noted, pretending as if this is a problem is exclusive to our county would be an injustice, metaphorically speaking. Nevertheless, we must not accept it. Yes, this is me being patriotic.

It’s great that Zuma is going to rural communities and interacting with them about their grievances. Now let’s see some houses.

The Malema verdict: Am I missing something here?

ANC Youth League president Julius Malema is getting away with quite a lot.

Malema retaliated to President Jacob Zuma's criticism of his ill-behaviour in Limpopo by saying (even) former president Thabo Mbeki would not have taken a similar stance. The disciplinary committee asserted that this implied the youth league had taken a position against Zuma. Malema rightfully pled guilty on this charge.

Mr Malema, the bottom line is that whether you like it or not, your words hold water and you MUST take responsibility for ALL your statements.

Fair enough, an "unconditional" apology has been issued - whether it is sincere or not is something for Malema's conscience.

In his words he said: "I have learned from this mistake and therefore submit myself to the discipline of the ANC."

He now has to participate in anger management classes and attend 20 days of the ANC's political school. Malema has also been fined an amount of R10,000 which he has to pay within three months. The money is intended to benefit a youth development project to be determined by Luthuli House.

What I particularly liked about his statement was the part that said: "I accept that these statements had the effect of undermining the stature of the President of the African National Congress and of the Republic."

Maybe we can expect him to behave, seeing that he is now on two years 'probation'. Should he contravene a part of the ANC Constitution, the likely effect is that he will be suspended from the party.

Three other charges which were brought against Malema (and withdrawn) include bringing the party into disrepute.

Among other things, Malema last month called British journalist a "bastard", "small boy" and "bloody agent" during a press conference. He also lyrically 'shot the boer' several times - something you are probably well aware he got plenty of flack for.

Note that these are all utterances of a youth leader.

Is this plea bargain not just a stone's throw from him getting away scot-free?

Bafana anthem urges team to put lightning in boots

Last night saw the launch of comic actor Leon Shuster and musician Don Clarke’s music video Khuthula Bo! which is meant to further inspire the soccer fever which infected has the country.

The song which comes a month ahead of the release of the movie Schuks Tshabalala’s Survival Guide to South Africa is meant to be an anthem for the national soccer team as the World Cup approaches.

A selected audience of media and other guests was treated to a short screening the music video and performances in Fourways, Johannesburg.

The two personalities that sing the song say the four-minute-long video was inspired by the antics of Schuks Tshabalala and his trusty sidekick Shorty who star in the soon to be released film in which Schuster also stars.

The character of Shorty is portrayed by the witty Alf Ntombeni who was also in attendance. Shuster himself did not attend the screening.

The song which could soon be blazing on radio sets of patriotic locals will include the phrase “Bafana Bafana bring it home to mama” and “if the ball is like a bullet, you must put lightning in your boots”.

Ntombeni says his message to foreign visitors will be that ‘this is home’. He partially explains this sentiment by saying it is similar to where they refer to as home in the sense that they will find the same means of transport and animals, among other things.

Clarke who penned some of the lyrics to the song describes the video as a frantic, highly expressive juxtaposition of human images representing many facets of South Africa’s rainbow nation with all sorts of people singing lines from the song. As for his inspiration, he says it is an instinctive talent which he somewhat fails to explain.

“There’s a lot of dancing, clapping, clowning around and generally reacting to the spirit of the music and the event that we have all been waiting for,” says the well-known artist about the song.

The catchy Khuthala Bo! is one of the songs featured on Clarke’s latest offering. It will also be featured on the official FIFA 2010 soundtrack which will be distributed locally under record label Gallo.

Schuks Tshabalala’s Survival Guide to South Africa opens at cinemas nationwide on 28 May.

People's peoet fights back

Poet Mzwakhe Mbuli says he is taking government to court after his two year anguish in jail.

The people's poet, as Mbuli is affectionately known, says he has instructed his lawyer to begin proceedings of laying charges against Police Minister Nathi Mthethwa and Justice Minister Jeff Radebe.

The artist was last Friday acquited on four charges of kidnapping, intimidation, assault and the pointing a firearm at the Germiston Regional Court after he pleaded not guilty. The crimes were alleged to have been committed in 2008.

Mbuli says he feels vindicated as a result of the court's stance.

These charges were not withdrawn, it is total acquittal, so this is the next best thing, says Mbuli.

"I am now filing a lawsuit of unlawful arrest against the police minister and another of malicious prosecution against the justice minister."

This irreparably damaged my reputation here and abroad. It was not two days, it is not two months but two years, says the angry artist.

He says his lawyer would today be sending out letters of demands to the respective ministers.

Author: Phathu Musitha / Jacaranda News

Why the chaos?

Is it South Africa's seemingly last-minute culture to blame for the chaos portrayed at queues on the first day as the final ticketing phase for the World Cup began? I don’t quite believe so!

It is known that police had to spray pepper spray to calm rowdy crowds who were pushing and shoving at the ticketing center at the Brooklyn Mall in Pretoria.

In Cape Town, it was also reported that a man died of an apparent seizure while waiting to buy his ticket.

It seems to me that locals were all along keen on purchasing tickets. Perhaps infrastructural challenges and complicated systems were to blame for the less than satisfactory sale of tickets in the country - considering that we are a first-time host nation.

Tickets are moving at a speedily rate, regardless of the glitch suffered at centres yesterday. After all, some 80,000 tickets were sold yesterday, with Cape Town reaching sold out status on the first day that tickets were being sold for cash over the counters. That is a milestone - a great achievement. Buying over the counter is so much more simple and inviting.

Soccer fans are even camping overnight with their blankets and reading material, just so they don't miss their favourite teams tackle one another on the field.

Imagine how many tickets would have left the shelves, had we been able to buy tickets over the counter all along.

I am easy to please, but could you answer your phone!

When excelling in my job largely depends on conducting telephonic interviews, it is always a frustrating obstacle when newsmakers and their media camps refuse my calls.

I am easy to please, really, but we journalists speak the language of deadlines. Subsequently, when sources and commentators are not reached ahead of the deadline, we become somewhat inefficient. A journalist who can’t get a story is as good as one without a job.

While it is true that these people have meetings to attend and other duties to complete, they in the same breath have other aspects of the job to satisfy, including communicating with the media. And I mean effectively and professionally.

New spokespeople almost always answer their phones in the beginning. Those who start off well in a new portfolio sometimes become tedious and non-responsive, making you wish to somehow travel to their destination, press the answer button on their behalf and then press the phone against their ear.

Some people are 'helpful' in to the extent that even before you even pick up the phone to dial their number you are 80 percent certain that they won't answer. I love days when the 20 percent reigns.

Sure, I understand just how much of a pain it must be when I call people as early as 6am to request a soundbite or interview. Do I have a choice? No! Some have even protested that I never again call them at that "ungodly" hour.

It is not as if they have a don’t-speak-to-the-media agenda, perhaps they just genuinely can't help when they are needed.

Without doubt, in overcoming these challenges, it is imperative to develop good working relationships with the people you need in order to be effective in your job.

That being said, not all news sources can be classified in the same depressing category.

Some people help make my job a bliss as well as a profound pleasure because they not only grant interviews, they execute them in a clear, concise and crisp manner - nothing ambiguous - to the delight of editors. Kudos to them.

Like many other professions, journalism comes with its challenges. This is just one of them, but don't be discouraged. I know I'm not :-).

Just his luck!

Contrary to my initial beliefs, I have adopted the belief that bad luck may exist after all.

I am surrounded by people who constantly need reassurance and motivation because they are on such a low point emotionally, which has a draining effect on me at times.

I acknowledge that it takes a special kind of person not to take a knock when life seems to throw rocks at you.

Some black people - especially those more primitive - hold numerous beliefs which leave them somewhat superstitious. I say black people because it I have heard how they speak. Granted, many other people within other races may be similar. As for blacks, it may be that their history is to blame for their attitudes and their approach on certain issues, some of which are considered taboo.

Take a good friend of mine for instance, in January 2009, shortly after having his first car, it got stolen. Please note that it was a get-by car, but the thieves did not care to spare him and go for a more expensive, recent car. No, I am not promoting any degree of theft.

Two months went by; he restored his lack-of-own-transport and bought a second car. He was to later find that this would be short-lived, as car this car did not check out with the traffic department, another disappointment for him. Upon returning it, he got another car - his third. Well his second car technically, though it was at first not in his list of ‘cars to buy’, this in April.

Barely a month after having this car, he gets into a terrible car accident which leaves a passenger who is a good friend of his seriously injured and hospitalised for a month or so. He, on the other hand escapes with minor injuries, making him the bearer of guilt. Off he goes to spend all his measly earnings on fixing the car – he had no insurance and the culprit did not stop to see the damage he had caused.

After several months of material deprivation and being broke, his car returns to him in its previous condition, the month is June. He now falls in love with the car which he was at first very reluctant to buy.

Little did he know that he would get into another awful accident, again it is not his fault. And yes, this driver also gets away without being held accountable. This happens in September, only a day before his birthday. Once more, he is left carless. Blame it on the fact that another careless driver of another vehicle - this time a taxi - skipped a red robot. Still, he consoled himself using the fact that he was still alive, and for that he was genuinely grateful.

Because he resentment ill-informed judgment and speculation of possible witchcraft and bad luck, he resorts to keeping all ‘questionable’ and ‘suspicious’ events to himself and those extremely close in his circle. It has crossed his mind many times that he may be cursed, or have a bout of bad luck – thoughts he tries to entertain as minimally as possible. Coincidence does not exist, and if it does, it is far too familiar with him.

Beyond that, he has had financial problems and constantly had to ask for help from those who still had the patience to assist him without gossiping about him. He had just started his first internship last and was studying simultaneously. As his luck went, he would never get paid on time and when he did receive his pay, it was never in full.

Several times, he had to go and cash in a cheque which was given to him after a hassle and a hustle, and he would have to wait for a full week before seeing any of his money. This just exacerbated his money woes and depressed him further. Yet he is the most optimistic person I know, and as a joking matter in his intimate circle, he has been likened to the character of Job in the Bible - owing to his experiences.

May this be a case of circumstantial bad luck?