I was woken in the small hours of the morning by the sound of a strangely familiar voice hitherto only heard on the television. The voice went like this:
”On behalf of the government and people of this country, I am here to wish you a Happy New Year.
”I am not hoping you, wishing you, or encouraging you. I am telling you: Happy New Year. This is not negotiable. This is how it is. 2006 will be happy, like it or not.”
Now, there have been some unfortunate things that have leaked into the media over the past few days that might undermine what I am saying. These things are not true — patently untrue, although I am not in a position to give you the full reasons as to why they might or might not be true or untrue.
People are talking about e-mail scandals and cabals within the ruling party which suggest that we might or might not be hiding our true intentions, or indeed the true history of what is going on. This is patently false, take it as you will.
We remain true to what we have always been true to. That is: the Freedom Charter, as adapted to present day realities, just like the Bible, or the Communist Manifesto as so poignantly articulated by Friederich Engels and the late Karl Marx. As a matter of fact, they are both late.
As the great English poet, the late William Wordsworth, once said: ”We are born before we die.”
While we cherish these ancient sentiments for what they are, and for what they are worth, we nevertheless cherish our own aspirations as an African people, born into slavery and currently, through the efforts of earlier generations, grown to a status of enslavement to none, and we conduct ourselves in the proud aspiration that we shall, in the words of the late Martin Luther King, finally overcome. This is what we call the African Renaissance.
That having been said, I would now like to turn to this matter of the so-called ”e-mail” scandal, which has almost brought our government to its knees, were it not for the cushioning impact of our own technologically developed instant reaction force developed through our own Denel weapons facility, and known as ”Knee-Pad”, sometimes jokingly referred to by our enemies as ”Nepad.”
We can assure you that nothing will divert us from our true course, or cause, whichever is the most appropriate. That is why we reveal to you, here below, the true transcripts of further e-mails and chat room conversations that have been uncovered over the past few hours. We trust that you, in the towering malls and luxury in Rivonia, as much as in the cowering squatter camps of Alexandra and Khayelitsha, patriots all, will draw your own conclusions, and allow us all to go forward in the true democratic tradition we have established over the past couple of years.
Here, people, are the actual, real-time transcripts:
Saki Macozoma (SM): Hullo. Who’s there?
Izak du Plooy (IP): It’s me, you fool. I want to bring my brother in on this conversation.
SM: Who are you calling a fool?
IP: Don’t be so sensitive, just because you black [sic]. I want to bring my brother in on the conversation.
SM: Who’s your brother? That Johan? How come there’s so many Van der Plooys going on here?
IP: It’s not ”Van der Plooy”. It’s ”Du Plooy.” And he’s not really my brother. It’s just the same surname. From the past. It’s hard to shake your past.
Jacob Zuma (JZ): (OFF) You’re telling me.
Thabo Mbeki (TM): (OFF) We certainly are telling on you. And your present and your future too.
JZ: (OFF) Ouch! (HE LEAVES CHAT ROOM)
SM: OK. Further?
IP: We were talking about that ”Zuluboy” situation. What do you want us to do?
SM: Who you calling a ”Zuluboy”?
IP: But you said …
SM: Scratch it. It’s all over the papers now. It’s been brought up at the National Executive Council. Our cover’s been blown. Please don’t use those terms anymore.
IP: OK. It’s a deal.
SM: What’s a deal?
IP: That I’ll shut up about everything I know about the deal, and about everything else. I never thought it would come to this. Making deals with darkies about how not to talk about Zuluboys.
SM: But you’ve been paid your money. What’s the problem?
There is a knock at the door.
FC: (OFF) Knock, knock!
SM, IP & JP (simultaneously): Who’s there?
FC: Father Christmas!
SM, IP & JP (simultaneously): Oh God, not again. Go away! We’re busy.
FC: (OFF) OK. But you’ll regret it. No Nintendo games for you this year!
A LONG CHAT ROOM SILENCE FOLLOWS.
IP: (VISIBLY SHAKEN) Is he gone?
SM: I think he’s gone. You were saying?
IP & JP: No. You were saying the whole thing’s off.
SM: It’s never off till the fat lady sings.
IP & JP: Who’s the fat lady?
SM: I don’t know. Maybe Tony Leon or Anton Harbour [sic].
IP & JP: Sounds good. Happy Christmas.
SM: And a merry New Year. Lots of fun to come.