Easters in the South African political calendar is usually the time when political leaders go cavorting at Moria gatherings of ZCC (Zionist Christian Church). The tradition, funny enough, was begun by the groot krokodil [P.W. Botha] in 1985, much to the indignation of anti-apartheid movements. F.W. Deklerk and Nelson Mandela didn’t disdain the practice; and so did Gatsha Buthelezi. We’ve seen President Mbeki too prancing on stage at the gatherings, much against temperament. One can only conclude that making political gain demands displays of religious allegiance in this country.
I thought the kangaman, alias JZ, would be in Moria this year; after all he’d be in character with all the prancing and gyrating; putting down Umtshin’ wam for the rod for the moment. And if the gathering in Moria are anything similar to ZCC township gatherings, then he’s guaranteed at least a ratio of 5 women to himself. Surely the kangaman must be salivating at such prospects.
Or perhaps, judging by the answer he gave at the Jewish gathering he addressed recently, he draws limits on religious bounds. I imagined him thinking about the nuisance of going through legion rituals trying to please a yenta. All that Krank and God, the burden of Yom ha-Kippurim, and kosher diet. After all if the kangaman is not terefah he’s nothing. Imagine him having to follow Shohet rules to slaughters eNkandleni, just for the flip of a Bedouin tent. No thanks, thought the kangaman, despite himself; putting it euphemistically; ‘If one can be arranged we can talk . . .’ when the question was thrown if he’d consider taking a Jewish bride. Then followed that awkward moment, when it was not certain whether the gathering was laughing with or at him. Such are growing pains to the top job of the country.
Now that politically he’s firing from all cylinders, the kangaman, must be wondering who shall be his spiritual advisor. I suspect the specious pastor is challenged on the moral and theological department. As a strawman, he like to mimics what goes with the wind. He, as a columnist of the Mail and Guardian coined, speaks bread to the bakers, meat to the butchers, and pies when the two are gathered; which is not as bad as it sounds actual. Our country, divided at its seams as it is, needs more people who can speaks pies, so to speak. But the kangaman must feel in need of spiritual anchor now and then even if the reed is more useful than an oak in times of storms. I’m sure a shaman, a marabout, anything to appease the makombwe ancestors he would not shun.
Methinks it is inevitable that the kangaman must go to Moria, even if its next year, to assist his traditional propitiation if nothing else. If they throw in a wife or two, I’m sure he won’t mind, but things are going beyond the pale regarding his coming corruption trial. He needs all the help he can get; and burning impepho outside the courthouse his time might just not cut it. Hence I say the only way to go for the kangaman is to follow the momentum of the rising rebellion of the masses. We all know the ZCC is the biggest independent church in the land. It’d be stupid for him not to milk that cow. So if he knows what’s best for him he’d be acquainting himself nemingqungqo yase Zion [with Zionist prance songs]. Perhaps he’s already ahead of us, what with all his Jewish association, which after all, is the seat of Zion. What he needs to add now is the spiritual hooey and African trim to the Masonic bunkum. What has he got to loose but the chains zakwa Nomgqungqo [of jail].
As a pastor he might even be given a platform to preach at Moria. I’ve thought about his homily, but will desist from suggestions since this is a family site. Okay, I’ll give you a clue; he’ll frequently quote from The Book of Songs: I’m black but I’m beautiful . . . If I wer him though I’ll conclude with an Aesopic fable, as told better by Herodotus in his History (I 141).
Herodotus narrated how the Ionian Greeks, who had resisted the call for assisting the Persian King Cyrus in attacking Croesus, the rich Lydian king. When they had Croesus had been subjugated by Cyrus they sent ambassadors to offer their submission. Cyrus’ reply was to tell Aesop’s fable. “A flute player saw some fish and started to play, with the idea that the fish would come out on land. When they disappointed him he took a net, cast it, and hauled a great quantity of fish. When he saw them jumping around, he said to them: ‘[Why wretched creatures] You don’t need to dance for me now, since you wouldn’t come out and dance when I played my flute.” Herodotus assures us that the Greeks did not miss the point of the fable. I’m sure none will miss it here too.
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