Gravy running as polotishans jostle for prime position at the feeding trough

08 February 2019 - 08:33
By fred khumalo AND Fred Khumalo
President Cyril Ramaphosa, alongside National Assembly speaker Baleka Mbete, as he makes his way to the State of the Nation Address in Parliament, Cape Town.
Image: GCIS President Cyril Ramaphosa, alongside National Assembly speaker Baleka Mbete, as he makes his way to the State of the Nation Address in Parliament, Cape Town.

In this episode of Game of Bags, President Thuma Mina is having dinner with some auspicious guests, including Melika, Ngilandi, Holandi, Swizalandi and Jalimane.

As Melika spears his juicy rib eye steak, he feels something rubbing against his leg. Startled, he bends over to investigate.

Underneath the table, he spots Lady Mvula'inyana, she of the famous braai packs and whiskey bottles. She whispers: "Bhuti Melika, can you throw me a piece of meat, please. No one will notice, the operation will take place under the table, after all."

On the extreme end of the table, Jalimane is struggling with Lady Zululiyaduduma, who is also sitting under the table, on top of her Louis Vuitton bag. She is saying, "For me, Bhuti Jalimane, a Merc will do. No one will notice; I'll shove it into my Louis Vuitton bag."

Jalimane and Melika, courteous gentlemen that they are, do their best to ignore the under-the-table overtures of the two ladies.

After they've left and are chilling at Ngilandi's home they decide to write a strong-worded letter of complaint to their erstwhile host.

In their letter they spell out that if Thuma Mina does not deal firmly with under-the-table shenanigans in Mzansi, not only will they never visit his residence again, they will also find it difficult for investors from their countries to come to Mzansi.

Camera cuts to: the Office of Beautiful Princess Sululu, the boss of Outside Affairs. She is furious: "Who are these colonialists to tell us how to dine inside our house? Blah-de-blah, yadda-yadda, tsek-tsek!#?*$"

Off camera: Princess Sululu is smiling: "but those colonialists are correct, man. These braai-pack sisters are such an embarrassment. If you must eat, do it decently! Overseas polotishans do eat under the table as well; but they always make sure the gravy does not run out the corners of their mouths and in between their fingers. Sies, comrade Gedle, we're stuck with your atrocious habits!"

Camera cuts to: parliamentary piazza (not to be confused with pizza fat opera singer L'Agrizzi delivered at Lady Mvula'iyana's house). The Red Overalls are sweating profusely, yesterday's whisky coming through the pores as they toyi-toyi and chant: "Thuma Mina also ate! PayBackTheMoney, you McBuffalo!"

Camera cuts to: the inner sanctum of President Thuma Mina's office. He opens his safe and pulls out oodles of money and starts counting. When he reaches R500,000, he starts crying: "Damn, you know how many McDonald meals I can buy for this? But, hey, I must give this back to Don Wazzoni and his Bhazabhaza crowd, just to silence these Red Cockroaches and Zilazila's garden boy, MyMoney!"

Camera cuts to: a street in Pretoria. Followers of Pastor Bufirifiri are toyi-toying led by Gangile Mguptama. He is speaking into a loudhailer: "The Major One hasn't done anything fraudulent; he is being framed by white monopoly capital, for the simple reason that he is a young, successful black man. Just you wait: me and the Major One are going to start walking on air. We're going to unleash miracles on this land. We will show these counter-revolutionary agents and their running dogs."

Cut to: Pastor Bufirifiri sitting on a gold-plated toilet seat, his pants around his ankles. Mguptama is kneeling before him. The Major One says: "Well done, my holy one. You can do wonders with that mouth of yours." He hands him a bag overflowing with banknotes. "This is for the coffers of Black Rand First. I'm so glad you know your priorities. It should always be a dollar or rand first. You can't eat principles."

Cut to: a dining table at the Sona party. Gravy running all over the place as polotishans jostle for prime position at the feeding trough.

Then fade out.