THE truth behind the Woodwork Boy's decision to build a bunker in the R16 million mansion he is putting up in one of the most affluent areas in the Johannesburg northern suburbs has finally been revealed.

Juju Boy had apparently given his architects strict instructions that they must, as a matter of extreme importance, include secret underground living quarters in their designs and that under no circumstances must they defy him. This was despite the advice given to him by close buddies that this was an unnecessary expense that he could do without.

Strangely, Juju Boy agreed with them that, despite having so many enemies, his security needs did not warrant such radical measures, now or in the future.

Contrary to his well-known pomposity, overblown ego and exaggerated self-importance, Juju Boy confided in his close pals - including a man known as Tivumbeni, curiously named after a now defunct Limpopo teachers' training college - that he was not building the bunker for the same reasons as deposed dictators such Iraq's Saddam Hussein, Libya's Muammar Gaddafi and Cote d'Ivoire's Laurent Gbagbo did theirs.

The Ain't Seen Nothing Yet's kindergarten prefect told his pals he was doing it because he wanted to fulfil a personal childhood ambition.

He explained to them that despite being a dedicated, disciplined, loyal, committed and radical cadre of the revolutionary party, he had not been able to do certain things that others who came before him, people such as Peter Mokaba, had done as freedom fighters. For that reason, he felt like an incomplete cadre.

He was building the bunker, he told them, because he had always wanted to go and operate underground, and this was the opportunity.

Now, with Public Protector Thuli Madonsela on his case, the Hawks preparing to plunge their deadly claws into his delicate flesh, and the revolutionary party about to give him a spanking of his life, this might be the right time for Juju to really go underground.

A lesson well-learned

WHILE members of the corruption-riddled revolutionary party threaten to bite one another's heads off every waking day for political power or access to state tenders, Madame Godzille's outfit has been watching gleefully on the sidelines, with one eye on the next elections.

The Godzille-Zille Connection has always sought to distinguish itself as a united, peaceful crowd free of corruption, factionalism and infighting. A paragon of virtue, if you like.

Well, that is what Guluva had thought of the party, too, until a few days ago when its South Gauteng leadership regional elections were cancelled at the last minute after, according to Gauteng provincial leader Janet September, "more votes were cast than the number of registered delegates".

This, if you ask Guluva, is politically correct-speak or euphemism for "vote-rigging".

As a result of what some described as "a glitch in the handling of ballot papers", the elections have been postponed to sometime in October or November. Nobody knows exactly when.

Now, the man who has proved to be very good when it comes to postponing elections in this manner is none other than Umtwana ka Phindangene and Inkatha Freedom Party president-for-life Chief Mangosuthu Buthelezi.

The good ole chief will be chuffed to know that he has taught his Godzille-Zille Connection charges well.

Email Guluva on: thatha.guluva@gmail.com