Who is really in-charge?

Corona-virus has shown us a side of our government not often seen, with decisive leadership, strategy and responsiveness. The WHO (World Health Organisation) has definitely set the guidelines to efficiency, and such executions of directives were also followed nationally and internationally. So, when it comes to giving credit we must thank the WHO for the mobilisation of our leaders which otherwise would have been an impossible task.

Corona-virus has shown us a side of our government not often seen, with decisive leadership, strategy and responsiveness. The WHO (World Health Organisation) has definitely set the guidelines to efficiency, and such executions of directives were also followed nationally and internationally. So, when it comes to giving credit we must thank the WHO for the mobilisation of our leaders which otherwise would have been an impossible task.

The advice cascaded shows of foreign intervention, for in relaying the directives our leaders had not filtered the message, for they well know that much of our population live in areas which poses serious difficulties in social i.e. physical distancing and many don’t have clean water. 

Much of our population are without decent health care. Most people are afraid of government hospitals – under-staffed, lack of equipment and in one instance literally monkeys entered into a ward. The number of anecdotal events, where wrong medication and extreme delayed response in seeing a physician, have always been the norm. Last year video footage of an old grandma tied to the reception room chairs made headlines. Any healthcare system would be welcomed here in SA, however ours is not actually a system, for what system do chaos reign and bureaucracy shield the privileged incompetent?

Given that much of the population are uneducated the system works against them in this fast-flowing speed of fibre yet dial-up is the mode for the many, now faced with austerity. We need to look after our masses or else one day the barrier of class-status and the divides of rich and poor will burst-forth bring the entire system with it.

“Stop calling for SOCIAL distancing”

We should never show prejudice to anyone’s illness, in doing so would be disrespecting, degrading for something that is beyond their ability to control. This COVID-19 virus is nasty for it’s turning us to selfish and self-centered people. Everyone wants to be prepared and that we are doing so without the consideration of another.

Everyone is saying that we should have social distancing – this goes against our community dynamics and further divides our already divided country. Instead of calling it “social distancing”, rather refer to it as “physical distancing” for this would be more appropriate as all that is going on in the country and the issues we face – we need each other and not to have social interactions is an absurdity.

Serving our community

We should never show prejudice to anyone’s illness, in doing so would be disrespecting, degrading for something that is beyond their ability to control. This COVID-19 virus is nasty for it’s turning us to selfish and self-centered people. Everyone wants to be prepared and that we are doing so without the consideration of another.

There is a growing taboo on anyone sneezing, coughing or showing any common signs of illness. We know that this is impossible in cases of hay-fever or the common cold, and now we are frowning upon such natural seasons of life; believing anyone showing any signs of Corona is a threat to your “sterile” life.

We must be courteous and kind in showing love to our neighbour – therefore as a gesture of love, IVOTESA, has gone into the community of Orange Grove to provide liquid soap to the unemployed. As the country stockpiles, there are the marginalised who are isolated, cut-off, and unable to purchase or stockpile. Many a times, they would go to the shops with little in their pockets only to find the shelves empty. In their desperation, there are the opportunists using the coronavirus crisis to hike up their profits without any consideration for the poor or needy.

Soap is only a small gesture, of now a very basic necessity. We are only as clean as our weakest neighbour. Let’s strengthen everyone around us at this time.
IVOTESA is looking for any donation of soap and cleaning products for us to distribute. We are also looking for volunteers willing to serve our community.

Trading votes for food when it costed blood!

The right to vote – it came at the cost of blood. Fathers, mothers, children and maybe someone’s uncle. They were beaten, killed and oppressed like animals. Yet today that very vote can be purchased for a bag of groceries… Shame on those who mock our freedom… Shame on you who mock the martyrs… Shame on you!

There was a period in our country’s history that the past would be reconciled to bring healing to the open wounds and trauma caused by the injustices of Apartheid.

People were willing to move on, to begin walking together – a new government had formed and that government represented the people. As the world watched on with admiration to see a lesson demonstrated by the millions of South Africans willing to show love.

Now the reality hits and that same government which once promised a better life had only managed to achieve it for themselves. They have forgotten the townships and the hopes and dreams which the people patiently anticipated.

Alexandra Township – Johannesburg

Even so the people are trusting despite promise after promise failing, and yet year after year these representatives look more like the Hollywood glamour models showing their swag. Alas, the only swag our people can show forth is the fake goods of designer labels brought in from the Far East.

Ours are a people trusting, loving and generous to have room in their big hearts to be faithful to their “freedom fighters”. Why has anyone not told the masses that Apartheid is abolished and that they are now free? We all know that despite the chains of oppression enslaving our people are the schemes to keep them from freedom, and so the education system does what the Apartheid system did… narrowing their dreams of success.

The right to vote – it came at the cost of blood. Fathers, mothers, children and maybe someone’s uncle. They were beaten, killed and oppressed like animals. Yet today that very vote can be purchased for a bag of groceries… Shame on those who mock our freedom… Shame on you who mock the martyrs… Shame on you!

I go around Africa and people ask me very embarrassing questions

“I go around Africa and people ask me very embarrassing questions about this Parliament.

“I am happy that you were able to handle the House but commenting as somebody who from time to time comes to this House to participate I believe the house needs to do more to bring this house to order,” he said in his reply to the budget vote debate on the presidency.

“I go around Africa and people ask me very embarrassing questions about this Parliament.

“I thought you should know this, some are complaining particularly in this region that in the manner in which we behave in Parliament, we are changing the perceptions they have heard about us, that we are a leading example of the constitutional democracy. They are now saying you are influencing some of their people in a wrong way.”

I am an African man with an Indian face

It is such, that because of my Indian face and my dark skin, that my bloodline can only be traced back back to the immigrant intake of 1860 when Indentured Indian labourers were brought by the British, to plant sugar cane in the region I grew up in . Am I faceless a number? To a government who once insisted it was going to help change the past and build a better future. But it didn’t! Twenty years free, and yet we are not free, not in any sense. Apartheid is a malicious word from a futile past, but how it still haunts our present.

My soul was raised in this glorious land, its where I was shaped, by the quiet echoes of my forefathers, a layer of people before me who have trodden tentatively. I have walked where generations of brave and tormented souls have suffered, and shed blood into its russet earth. I have seen flocks of birds flee into the skies, crying in horror at this unnecessary spillings. My country is culture rich and fertile and has felt my bare feet caressed by its soil and sand. I am sculptured from its cultures and traditions, taught by its education systems molded by its harsh segregations. Its scent lingers on my skin, I have watched its flowers bloom under a gentle sun and eaten the fruits from its plentiful vegetation’s. South Africa has fed me and watered me and it courses through my veins. It is a part of my very being. Yet it tries to spit me out like an unripe piece of fruit or an unsavoury taste.

My cries of frustration at its unfair state, have been carried through the sulfurous air, undetected. My fingers have swept through its feathery grass and my ears have witnessed the sounds of it’s magnificent wild creatures, roaming its fields, plains and forests, untarnished and free. And yet I am not seen as one of its own. It is such, that because of my Indian face and my dark skin, that my bloodline can only be traced back back to the immigrant intake of 1860 when Indentured Indian labourers were brought by the British, to plant sugar cane in the region I grew up in . Am I faceless a number? To a government who once insisted it was going to help change the past and build a better future. But it didn’t! Twenty years free, and yet we are not free, not in any sense. Apartheid is a malicious word from a futile past, but how it still haunts our present.african

My years of giving for my country, have they been in vein? Has the colour of my skin determined my path? You would look at me and call me an Indian man. Because we very rarely see beyond race and colour. We don’t see that some of those black faces, Asian, Indian or other giving souls, have contributed to its economy and its society and seeped deep into its very history. They have collectively enriched a country, listened to it’s heart beat and lived its rage and danced its sorrow and pain- wept its terrible losses.

I am an African man with an Indian face and yet my love of the country that embraced me, presented me with an eye opening and complex childhood, smeared with memories of segregation and fear and emotional sacrifices. And yet I do love my country and want to serve my country fellow men, who are also Africans, no matter where their origin. Hard working communities whose fingers have dug into its earth and planted crops on its bountiful fields, have breathed in its beautifully tragic fragrance, poured, blood, sweat and tears into this splendid ancient land.

I want to be heard as a proud South African man who has listened the whispers of a devastatingly cruel past and yet I want to shout loud, inhale the needs, provide attention and take in the concerns, be a patriotic leader. One who can sew this society back together and educate, and be trusted to change our corrupt systems, and fight the eternal political lies. I believe I deserve a chance at the podium, and to be a voice for those of you who need me.

And I believe that time is now!

brendonnaicker.org