Dear Msholozi,
Just to let you know that now that e-tolling has been put on hold and we won’t be able to contribute to the ANC’s election coffers that way, we are working on new ideas to generate income and, of course, the party will get its 15%.One of the ideas we’re working on is to charge people for walking on the pavement. Another idea is an “oxygen tax”, just a little something from people for the air they breathe. The one we’re most excited about is the grave toll people have to pay an annual tax for the graves they lie in.
This way, we’ll have an income stream for as long as people lie there, and there’s no way they’ll take us to court! We’re just working on the payment system… we’ll keep you posted. Ka-ching!
Cyril, Tokyo and the gang.
Dear Msholozi,
I am very upset. I work for some ANC MPs in their houses at the parliamentary village. They club together so that they can pay me the minimum wage. But I’m not upset about that. They don’t always treat me very nice. It’s like I’m a second class citizen. But I’m not so upset about that. Anymore. I get my own back by hiding their toilet rolls.
What upsets me is that my children have been stopped from using the bus that takes MPs’ children to school. My children play with their children. They even go to the same school. But now my children can’t travel in the same bus. It’s like apartheid. I can take a lot of kak for the good of my children. I’ve given up on having a lekker life myself. But I’m not going to stand for it when my children are treated badly. We always said the New South Africa was for our children. But it looks like it’s only for some people’s children. Please do something.
Maybe you can have e-tolling in the parliamentary village and MPs can pay when they come and go. And the money can go towards the buses for my children too. I don’t care what you do, but just sort this out. Or there will be a lot of flat tyres around here soon.
Mary Tsotetsi Minister of Domestic Affairs
Dear Msholozi,
I have been very impressed with the way you look after your children. And now, by the way, they can look after themselves. You are my hero. Because you prove that charity really does begin at home. So, I hope you don’t mind, but I would like to ask you to adopt me. Please. I am a matriculant. I don’t drink (very much) and I’m not pregnant. That’s because I’m a guy. I even passed woodwork. But I can’t get a job.
You see, I live in the Western Cape and if you’re my colour, jobs are as scarce as a Helen Zille apology. I tried everything, even becoming a refugee in the Eastern Cape, the province of my mother’s birth, but there’s even less work there. Unless you want to volunteer for COPE. I wrote to Madonna to ask her to adopt me, but like a virgin, she has left me unfulfilled. I won’t need much time, just two years as your son, and then I’m sure I will also be a millionaire.
I look forward to hearing from you,
Refugee Tshabalala
PS. My mother she can’t write yet asked me to tell you that she’d also be very happy to marry you.
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