Poor Jacob Zuma. With his political fortunes on the turn, the ANC deputy president must be casting an anxious eye to his professional future. He is soon to crash up against what could well turn out to be the cold, indifferent edifice of common law. In the meantime, all Mr Zuma has had to reassure him that his day in court will be conducted in a style befitting his dignity and status has been the bully-boy rupturing of constitutional guarantees of overt judicial procedure by Gauteng police commissioner Oswald Reddy. Also, it seems that, despite restrictions on his public utterances, Mr Zuma will continue to hold his highly paid position in the ANC. Which is why his buddies in Luthuli House didn’t fire him outright. He might be getting free rent in that Parktown mansion ‘Idle Winds†— ironically an anagram of ‘I Swindled†— but there are still all those wives to support, all those offspring to educate at private schools, all those hungry lawyers to feed.
With so little else to sustain and encourage him over the months of self-doubt that lie ahead, the following list of possible future career opportunities is offered by way of reassurance and comfort. The list has been compiled by a group of Comrade Jacob’s increasingly clandestine admirers, every one of us too humble to claim credit. As his trials and postponements drag on, Mr Zuma may find relief in knowing that there will be a wide range of post-judicial employments available to him and worthy of his gifts. Here are just a few possibilities.
1: Become chief financial adviser and fashion consultant to the ANC Youth League.
2: Tog up as a Zulu warrior with a vast cowhide shield, ostrich feather headdress, crocodile-teeth necklace, hyena-skin beshu, gumboots and a Korean-made plastic assegai, and get employed as a traditional commissionaire at the new Sol Kerzner Ulundi Sun. Good tips to be made here.
3: Take a job as a nightwatchman at the Union Buildings. Remember, that’s how Sam started.
4: Join forces with the world’s most life-threatening HIV/Aids vaudeville act, ‘Manto & Matthiasâ€, and thus get back into the good books of their producer/stage-manager, Thabo Mbeki.
5: Join the Public Protector’s offices to look after Lawrence Mushwana’s guide dog.
6: Take the Norman Mashebane option and persuade ex-wife, Foreign Minister Nkosazana Dlamini-Zuma, to appoint him to the rough and fumble of being a South African sexual ambassador in some remote country.
7: Maintain intimate contact with friends and financial advisers by becoming a registered prison visitor.
8: Sign up as a gang-morality enforcer for Pagad.
9: Train to become official circumciser at future presidential inauguration ceremonies. In between fill in on the night-time bloodstain removal staff at Luthuli House.
10: Become a test-violator for Cumalot Reinforced Sidewall Run-Flat Condoms.
11: Apply for a job as chief toyi-toyi and singing instructor for Cosatu rallies.
12: Set up as a specialist sangoma offering spiritual guidance, herbal and animal product therapies to survivors of portfolio committee investigations.
13: Join the Democratic Alliance and slowly leak back into Parliament through its internal plumbing. What fun to be paid to sit and sneer while Tony Leon empties his contempt all over Thabo. Generous tips to be made here, too.
14: Take up a professorship in the sexual harassment faculty at Unisa.
15: Rent himself out as a human shield for Kader Asmal education policies.
16: Start a literary agency for Cape Argus political reporters keen to make extra money writing glowing articles about Ebrahim Rasool.
17: Work as hairstylist and parking area scout for Kortbroek van Schalkwyk. Tipping not allowed, except of the hat.
18: Become a legal officer specialising in giving advice and postponement counselling to ANC parliamentarians still awaiting trial on Travelgate charges. This is a long-term position.
19: Become yet another stupendously ethical member of the SABC Board of Governors.
20: Go to jail, do not pass go, do not collect R500 000 annually for Thales.
The above are just a few ideas that leapt into my and other minds when writing this column. Clever readers are invited to think up their own future career possibilities for Comrade Jacob. If there are some obvious ones we’ve missed I’ll see they get published here.
In closing this week’s sermon, may I take this opportunity to remind all our beloved Mail & Guardian worshippers about the advent on January 6 of the third edition of the satirical masterwork Not The Mail & Guardian, which I edit, brutally control and generally keep jealously to myself and a few privileged scriptural cronies.
Among next year’s highlights are a ‘themed†Corryptic Crossword, so get your Rogets out and turn to sections 541/2/3 and 930. There’s also a tranche of readers’ letters responding to last year’s article on the UK craze for al-fresco communal sex called ‘doggingâ€; the heart-wrenching story of a lady veterinary surgeon on trial for euthanasing her husband and a review of the new auteur film about a German genital cannibal, Saving Private Parts. Also sports articles by Tom Eaton and a special column by John Matshikiza.
Reserve your January 6 copy now and avoid disappointment