(Reuters)
THE FIFTH COLUMN
I would like to dissect the term “load-shedding” now to try to get to the bottom of this shared experience.
To shed is to get rid of something, according to the Macmillan and Merriam-Webster dictionaries. Adding “-ing” means to do so continuously.
A load, whether washing, work or otherwise, is almost always a burden and therefore works very well in concert with “shedding”. We all carry loads — we all have crosses to bear — which makes our power company’s shedding of its load all that much harder to bear.
Is “shedding” the best word to describe what is happening? In effect, our loads are increased against our will. It seems the emphasis should be on us, not them. “Load-dumping”, I should think, would be a more accurate description of the outages plaguing the country at present. (That said, employing a word such as “shedding”, rarely seen in the continuous present tense — he’s shedding so much weight; she’s shedding tears right now — is a stroke of euphemistic genius.)
And what is this load they speak of? What does it consist of? We know it’s not electricity — we know that very well. Is it a load of bull? It quite possibly could be bull were it not for the fact that what is happening is very, very real. The best I can think of — and I suspect this would be refuted — is that the load is a promise thrown to the wind for someone, anyone, else to fulfil. A load of responsibility.
It’s a responsibility that falls on us to provide heat to cook and light to read by. It’s up to the wicks of our candles, the gas in our canisters, to keep us going for work and play and provisional tax and education and wheel alignment (a personal encumbrance). It’s not a shared experience at all, this load-shedding, for if we shared in the wealth of the country our lights would be on. It’s very much a lonely experience endured in dark shopping aisles and chaotic intersections. Even the internet is off.
The other side of the coin is, of course, the peace and relative silence that come with outages and that blissful phrase, “Well, I can do nothing now.” And doing nothing is great, but then the modem flashes back to life and the oven comes on and the car lift (I’m sure) announces its readiness to lift, and it’s back to work. The inconsistency, like the unpredictability, is the real killer. To borrow a term from the tech world, load-shedding is disruptive, but not in an Uber, Tinder, Waze sort of way. It’s disorientating and, frankly, disappointing.
“One South Africa for all” the Democratic Alliance says on their posters. “Let’s grow South Africa together” the ANC asks of a supposed bountiful people. But what about “Power to the people”? Whatever has happened to that slogan?
The load is too heavy, dear politicians. Our sheds are full. Decide whether you want to keep the power off or on. And if it stays off, relieve us from the burdens of tax and voting and working, for clearly these things are not achieving the goals they’re supposed to. Leave us to our own gas-powered devices. We’ll find our way in the dark, I’m sure.