/ 1 January 2002

My funny Valentine

IT’S the week for romance, that boy with his bow – and timely reminders that love can sometimes mean you have to say you’re sorry. In the spirit of Valentine’s Day, an interesting press pack arrived at the Dorsbult Bar from Johnnic and Meropa Communications, who have tied up a multimillion-rand deal with the Department of Health to alert young (and not so young) lovers to the dangers of Aids. The manne were pleased to note that the condom was not stapled to the cardboard heart, and that along with a few new slogans – ”Respect me, Protect me” – were several pamphlets from the department dealing with sexually transmitted diseases and how to prevent the spread of HIV in the 21st century. Just what the doctor ordered, Oom Krisjan thought, until he noticed that those pamphlets were the same ones he’d received from the department in 1998.

Mail-order brides

It’s good that the Free State provincial government has its priorities right. On its Internet site (http://mangaung.ofs.gov.za) there’s a list of all the office bearers, their addresses and telephone numbers. Directly under the name of every MEC and department head is, in parentheses, the sole bit of personal information given: his or her marital status. So Premier Ms Winkle [sic] I Direko is (single), Mr ZA Dingani is (married), whereas Mr M Tsoametsi is (not married). It clarifies things for the farmers seeking mail-order brides, we suppose. The entry for the chief director in the provincial department of agriculture had the manne confused, however. No name is given but it says: (vacant). Does this explain the status of the post or the marital standing of the incumbent?

Comrades?

What, the manne in the Dorsbult bar wondered, would be the next step after the African National Congress Youth League’s idea of guerilla units in our schools – Oom Krisjan’s exclusive scoop last week. How about cadres in our newsrooms? The idea comes from – you guessed it – none other than our very own Snuki Saunders. Writing in the Business Day of July 31 last year, Phd Bulgaria called for a ”patriotic press corps that can work with government”. It was written in response to Mathata Tsedu, the man who had the temerity to reject the premise of a paper presented by the minister in the Office of the President, Essop Pahad, at last year’s Sun City bosberaad between press and the government – Pahad’s contention that the media must support and communicate the ”national agenda”. Tsedu is the chairman of the SA National Editors’ Forum, and Zikalala’s senior at the SABC. Clearly disagreeing with Tsedu, Zikalala thundered: ”As a nation we must be patriotic. Our newsrooms are full of young and talented cadres who need to be nurtured.” Webster’s International dictionary, incidentally, says one definition of cadre is: ”A group of activists in a communist or other revolutionary party. A cell of indoctrinated leaders active in promoting the interests of a revolutionary party.”

Unaided

Spare a thought for the man who in the past few weeks has had more egg on his face than could be produced by a barn-full of Oudtshoorn volstruise. Lemmer refers to Al Amien Kafaar, who works for the Government Communication and Information Service, an organisation that no one would ever accuse of Eschel Rhoodie-type manipulation or, perish the thought, of being an imbongi for the ruling party. Last year a letter from Kafaar was published in the Cape Argus accusing the then Democratic Alliance-controlled province of playing fast and loose with township people’s lives and using them as human guinea pigs. He based this weird accusation on the decision by the Western Cape provincial government to administer antiretroviral drugs to Aids patients in a cooperative venture with the Nobel-prize winning NGO, MÃ