“Now, suppose the people who promised a new and better life, don’t deliver. What do you think will begin to build up?”
Patrick shot in on behalf of Simon. “But that’s why there are meetings and new elections.”
“Do you know our people, comrade?” Samuel Sitjala asked. “Just last week I heard a coloured woman in the Cape province
“That’s not just the coloured people, Patrick. That’s our people too. In our lifetime many will never again change their vote.”
“You’re saying nothing can be done about that?” Simon asked.
“No, but it does give some big loopholes for some people to misuse their councilor's position.”
“In what way?” Simon probed.
“Laziness in their work, which translates for us into lack of service delivery, incomplete construction of roads. And sewage. That’s not something that you hear or read. That’s something you smell around you - the whole stinking day.” Samuel presented like a seasoned politician looking alternatively to Simon and Patrick. “And then there’s of course the selling of the RDP houses, bribery, nepotism. People get fed-up, so fed-up that they say: I don’t want your clinics, your library or whatever. I want justice and fairness.”
“And that’s what they’ll get if they just go through the proper channels.” Simon said.
“No, Simon Makoena, that’s what they’ll get if they make a statement of torching property. A statement that even implies that perhaps the previous regime was not that bad …”
The above dialogue is fictitious. It is this blogger's attempt to kindle the imagination on what lies behind Jacob Dlamini's recent book about post-apartheid South Africa. Written in 2009, Dlamini examines the collective violence that happened in townships more than ten years after South Africa got a full democracy. He is honest about some troubling features in the so called new South Africa.
