Last night the president of South Africa told a roomful of students, academics and businesspeople at Wits University in Johannesburg, in a ANC manifesto forum, to “not think like Africans.” Discussing the need for Gauteng residents to pay e-tolls, Zuma remarked: “We can’t think like Africans in Africa generally, we’re in Johannesburg.” Now, when I first got wind of this my first reaction was of course, anger. As a full-time African (except when there’s a World Cup Final and it pays to be Brazilian); I found myself wondering why he believed that my manner of thinking would destroy his beloved … Continue reading The Dangers of Thinking Like An African
This Sunday Mlungisi Xulu took it upon himself to respond to the open letter to ANC President, Jacob Zuma that was penned by self-proclaimed “Sushi King” of South Africa, Kenny Kunene.
Kenny, who I can only describe as the sort of middle-aged fellow that has absolutely no qualms referring to himself as a ‘socialite’—thus conjuring up images of him out on the town in a mini-skirt of the Paris Hilton variety—had written a scathing letter to South Africa’s commander-in-chief to outline how disappointed he is in the ANC. (Because, who didn’t expect Kenny to use his years of experience as a nightclub owner as the podium for political change they are?)
Now, I’m all for open letters; so much so that I have not taken it personally that my own open letter to Kenny has been all but ignored by his people—not personally at all (you can tell that fatty yourself! [sobbing]) But Mlungisi Xulu’s letter left me positively fuming. It was not the letter itself, but the response to it on Twitter.
The letter was met with nothing but flabbergasted laughter. It began with the following excerpt:
Well, let me pervade you of the titillation, embedded in the eventual state of being a paragon of perfection in the ardent utmost utilization of logic, as an ANC inclined political activist. In idling times, one ought to augment the incessant purportion of being abreast, beauty par excellence, with the intellectual regime, and resist desolation yielding petulance, which fuels obliterated recusance, immiserating from expertise, lack thereof.
Last week the web was filled with reports of the incident in which Ian Khama was attacked by a Cheetah at the army barracks. Many people wondered why. And today I bring to you–the cheetah’s side of the story.
It was a full moon the night I was born. At least that’s what my mother always told me. There had been two of us at the time – she used to say – a girl cub and I. But only I survived.
She always used to get quite distraught when she described the night they took her away. And even thinking about it now takes me back to the night when she told me about it.
I must have been about six or so months because I’d been working on the same piece of gazelle meat for hours. I think my teeth weren’t fully formed yet.
I remember that the planes were lit by a big orange moon. The dew on the tall grass sparkled so brightly it looked like the stars had fallen from the sky and taken permanent residence in the Kalahari.
STEP ONE: Begin by taking yourself far too seriously. Become your screen-name. I recommend you spend a week training your subconscious to forget your government name and respond only to ‘@juicy_feminist’ or ‘@africanist_muffin’ or ‘@atheist_tapdancer’, or whatever clever name you gave yourself.
This is the only way that you can truly immerse yourself in your own self-importance.
STEP TWO: Read a few books on your topic of ‘expertise’. The number of books can range from anything between 0.5* and 3.
It doesn’t really matter. What matters is that you constantly mention these books in ‘intellectual’ debates when proving to your opponent how very correct you are. (Don’t forget that you are always correct. And don’t shy away from reminding your followers of that.)
If you have a Master’s degree in your topic of expertise, don’t forget to mention it at least twice a morning. If you are in the process of getting your masters make sure to remind your followers of your #postgradproblems every three tweets and never, ever miss the opportunity to tweet them when ‘pulling an all-nighter on your thesis.’ The sun would explode if your followers missed out on that information.
This is my second attempt at Youtube. In this video I give a brief review of Tina Fey’s memoir. Continue reading Book Review | Tina Fey’s Bossypants
Last month I saw the small space that Botswana occupies in the twitter-scope blow up when rumours that the government would be disallowing the sale of alcohol in the middle of the ‘Festive Season’ began circulating unabated on the internet.
There were many different reactions from various types of Botswana Internet Users varying from complete outrage to self-righteous defence of the proposed policy. I, however, found myself most amused by the reactions I got from the realm of Twitter that I consider myself to occupy—the international armchair-intellectuals’ Twitter.
Our neighbours from all around the SADC region did not shy away from openly ridiculing the proposed alcohol ban. I found myself being the Botswana representative in this little circle of Twitter as well as the butt of all the jokes that came along with this news.
Whenever a woman asks me this question I never shy away from taking the time to retrieve a mirror from my handbag and point it directly at her face by way of an honest answer. (I mean, everyone knows only hoes ask questions.) And if you subscribed to this here blog you should have received a little compact mirror in the mail for this very purpose. But those of you just subscribing now, I’m just going to have to answer this question with words. So, what is a hoe? A hoe, according to most dictionaries is a garden tool used for … Continue reading What is a Hoe?