Bheki Cele fascinates me. He is that curious fixture on the country’s political scene of the calibre of Italian Prime Minister Silvio Berlusconi — flamboyant, colourful and never a dull moment in his not always very private life.
The hats are the first oddity, which thankfully have now been replaced by nifty police blues. Cele cuts an impressive figure in his uniform because he doesn’t boast the rotund belly of his predecessor, Jackie Selebi.
Then there’s the dancing. He does an awkward and unconvincing version of the sika lekhekhe jive, made popular by Kwaito artist Arthur Mafokate and his troupe of dancers.
Now anyone who has seen this suggestive dance would know that a man of his age — 57 — shouldn’t attempt this in public in full view of rolling TV cameras, no matter how important it is for the ruling party to capture the youth vote.
But it is his penchant for women with the surname Ngcobo that has me tickled pink. According to press reports, Cele was recently spotted at a Jimmy Choo store in Cape Town buying shoes for his fiancée, a Thembeka Ngcobo. It turns out that three other women he dated in the past, including his ex-wife, share the same surname.
Now what’s in a name you may wonder?
Plenty, according to African culture. You see, if all the commissioner’s women have the same surname, then they share a clan name as well.
Now there is nothing more seductive and appealing to women than when men call them by their clan name or isiduko. It is a term of endearment but it is also very respectful.
It is an affectionate way of addressing your chosen object of desire and denotes an oldworld charm. Back in the days when people still courted, if a man was pursuing a woman, one of the first questions a suitor would ask would be: Ungu mamni? What is your clan name?
The reasons for this are twofold: the nasty prospect of you sharing the same clan name as your love interest must be established promptly so that the budding interest can be quickly quashed because (in the Xhosa tradition anyway) one cannot be involved with someone you are related to, however distantly.
Secondly, once someone asks you your clan name, it implies a serious interest in you and they are then most likely to call you by your clan name as a way of showing that affection.
So in my case, being of the Amazizi clan, a suitor can use the following terms: Madlamini, Mamzizi, zizikazi, jama kaSijadu, and so on, and have me swooning and coyly batting my eyelids. It works like a charm every time.
Just last week I witnessed this in action. My friends and I went to what I think is the hippest joint in town at the moment for over-30 professional types. The newly refurbished Katzy’s in Rosebank attracts a cosmopolitan crowd and has a New York feel and vibe to it.
A group of young men approached us and asked if they could join us and we agreed. One of them started chatting up my friend and one of the first things he asked her was her clan name and she smiled in that telling way women do when they’ve been won over by someone.
Soon she and the suitor in question were chatting up a storm, much to our delight. This brings us back to the commissioner. Given his numerous liaisons, which have been reported in the press, this is a man who has a knack with women
He clearly knows what pleases them (Jimmy Choo shoes) and that all important icebreaker — the clan name. Now I’m not suggesting any capriciousness or wiliness on the part of our top cop, but I’m guessing one or two things are at play here with his being into Ngcobo women.
Firstly, it could be that the mere mention of that surname sends his heart aflutter. Or it could all be about expedience and convenience for the commissioner.
You see, with his love interests all bearing the same clan name, he doesn’t have to go through the bothersome business of trying to remember everyone by name because, really, who can keep up with Bongiwe Ngcobo, Zama Ngcobo, Thembeka Ngcobo and Thanda Ngcobo? I see how this can get very confusing for a busy man such as him.
All he has to do is say Ma Pholoba, Fuze, Mashiy’amahle — and all of them will respond, regardless of who was the intended recipient of those affections. Very clever, commissioner.