Beware of geeks bearing gifts
Oom Krisjan has always been an admirer of those who exhibit grace under pressure, but those who can keep their dignity in the face of extreme cock-ups are, perhaps, equally worthy of our esteem.
This is a tale of two luminaries who managed to escape the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune with their reputations intact.
It all took place at the Wits Great Hall this week, where people gathered to hear vice-prez Jacob Zuma deliver the Matthew Goniwe Memorial Lecture on African National Congress leader Albert Luthuli.
Mzwanele Mayekiso is a senior lecturer in urban planning but he proved less of a success in social planning in his role of MC. According to the schedule, he was to introduce Wits vice-chancellor (VC) Loyiso Nongxa, who would, in turn, do the honours for Gauteng Premier Mbazima Shilowa, who would then present the Veep.
For reasons known only to himself, Mayekiso decided to skip his boss and give the floor straight to Shilowa. The former union heavyweight grabbed the opportunity with both hands and gabbed on for 15 minutes before allowing Zuma a turn.
The vice-prez gave a wonderful, heartfelt lecture but might have been a little nettled when the daughter of the man whose virtues he was extolling — Albertina Luthuli — drifted in just as he was about to wrap it up.
The indignities had not ended for the night, however. Mayekiso called on the VC to give a vote of thanks — ”and I hope that’s all he’s going to say” — but Nongxa handled it with aplomb, joking that he felt a coup had taken place in his university.
At the ensuing cocktail party, the dignitaries were called up to receive tokens of appreciation for their attendance.
When they had made their way to the front, however, there was an embarrassed silence as they waited for their gifts. Two enterprising students grabbed a couple of plastic-wrapped T-shirts and foisted them on the guests.
Later, when everyone had settled down to a dop and a nibble, a woman walked in with the real presents — beautifully wrapped gifts in paper bags. Zuma’s security people exacted a measure of revenge by whisking the bags away, ungiven and unopened, to check for bombs. Too late, boys, the whole evening had bombed.
Small smalls
When short of a Springbok match to cry about or a politician to mock, the manne at the Dorsbult often turn to the classified sections in newspapers for a bit of amusement. This week two ads caught Lemmer’s eye. The first, in The Citizen, called for people interested in clearing landmines. No experience necessary, Oom Krisjan discovered.
The second, in the notorious personals of The Star, went as follows: ”Are you trying to break up with someone? Is this person simply not going away? Use technology — call [xxxx].”
Intrigued, Lemmer called, to discover that this is ”rent-a-threat”, where you can choose a telephone message to deliver to the person you’re trying to ditch — including, if your soon-to-be-ex is female, a suggestion that you’ll place her details in a lesbian magazine offering bizarre services.
Butt-kissing
Okay, Lemmer understands that newly elected Inkatha Freedom Party national chairperson Ziba Jiyane (like all sensible IFP members) does not want to be seen to challenge the prince formerly known as Gatsha. But did he really have to grovel quite this much when challenged to clear the air?
”It is even more hurtful to me when people imply that my leader and I are at loggerheads. When I say he is my father, I do not say that lightly. My paternal grandmother is a Buthelezi. My late father always spoke of this with pride. I grew up knowing that the IFP leader was my father’s cousin.
”The IFP leader is truly my father, even more so now that my father is late. Nothing can take away that blood relation! I am proud to have a father like the IFP leader. I will always honour and promote his legacy,” Jiyane said in a statement.
Bumper crop
Piesangland transport department head Kwazi Mbanjwa issued a statement recently in response to heavy snowfalls in the southern Drakensberg that was well-meaning, albeit not meaning entirely what he meant. According to a story on Sapa he said: ”We urge motorists to switch on their headlamps, reduce speed and following distance.”
Switch on headlamps — good advice. Reduce speed — ditto. But following distance? All the better to see the car in front of you, perhaps?
Brand new
With the various scandals that are regularly exposed by this and other newspapers, and with Tant Frene no longer cracking the whip (or organising the speakers, or whatever), it’s not surprising that the South African Parliament needs a spin doctor.
What did surprise Oom Krisjan when he read the advert for a parliamentary PR manager (and with a salary of R407 345 on offer, Lemmer read the ad several times), was that Parliament is now a product. The duties of the successful applicant include upholding the image of Parliament, and managing the branding of Parliament.
Got your number
After hearing several rumours about its financial stability, Oom Krisjan is concerned about the future of ThisDay — but he is even more concerned about what its staff members are up to.
A caption on Tuesday for a picture of a smiling convict read: ”Luvuyo Kakaza, a prisoner at Brandvlei maximum security prison, manages a card- and letter-making project at the prison.”
Now Kakaza, to the best of Lemmer’s knowledge, was recently employed by the paper to do its television listings.
A quick call elicited the response that no, Kakaza was not a guest of the state, and yes, the gremlins had struck in, allowing the caption to appear in print.