I swear that I will be faithful to the Republic of South Africa, President Jacob Zuma, Gwede, Jessie, Zweli, Baleka, Angie (I got your back), the ANC national executive committee and anyone else I owe my brand new credit limit to.
I promise to obey the commands of Msholozi and wives number one and two. I will be courageous in the defence of Nkandla, the kraal, the chicken run and all who labour in MaKhumalo’s spaza shop.
I will respect the Constitution of the Republic until such time the ruling party can form the Coalition of the Two-thirds and sacrifice it at the altar of patronage. Thereafter all bets are off.
I solemnly swear to not point and laugh at the taxi load of Economic Freedom Front (EFF) MPs seated in the National Assembly, no matter how ridiculous they look. Gumboots and aprons, seriously? What is this, 1992?
I will honour the faith placed in me by the people of the Republic, who in reality have no clue who I am. I will turn my back on KFC meals and show restraint at the buffet table, out of respect for the electorate who are less fortunate.
I solemnly promise to perform my functions as a member of the National Assembly to the best of my ability. I will not snooze while Solitaire is in session.
I will declare all business interests and conflicts of interest, or face the full brunt of the law that is now commonly known as the Dina Pule Act.
I will apply wisdom and discretion when deciding between Louis Vuitton and Christian Louboutin, Armani and Versace, and Maserati and Mercedes. After all, the taxpayers’ credit card is my credit card.
I will remember that I am a servant of the people and as such a Diners Club card is our voters’ way of telling us they care about our wellbeing.
I swear these things today, and then once more in five years’ time. So help me Jacob.