Correctional Services said that “matters are under control” at Johannesburg’s Sun City Prison on Wed.
Our dads' season of dread is fast approaching and the more their little princesses flounce and founder, pamper and preen for the matric dance, the worse their tempers become.
You would think that the average father would be strutting like a peacock as his little darling gets ready to go on display in a socially accepted ceremony that will demonstrate how well she has been socialised and prepared for adulthood.
But dad knows the odds.
Every pimply faced Romeo in the hood has his piggy little eyes on dad's blushing Juliet - and their intentions are decidedly ignoble. Dads know these things; they've been there, done that and have collected the T-shirt, as well as more intimate, frilly tokens of matric ball conquests.
So pity the poor balding old guy who is supposed to cough up three months of salary on frippery that will only ensure his sweet child encounters adulthood far before he thinks she might be ready.
Do not be surprised when he insists that he drive the doting couple to the matric ball - or that he accompany the chosen date back home alone, raging hormones unrequited.
Matric balls too often celebrate the more carnal aspects of adulthood rather than years of doting attention and preparation for a cruel world. It's a jungle out there, and dad knows it.