Just when I thought South Africans at large were choosing light - what with the stand that the likes of Cyril, Blade and the valiant Dr Makhosi Khoza, especially, have been taking against the state capture phenomenon - something crops up to dispel that notion.
It’s on another level, for sure, but essentially it just proved the veracity of that oft-cited Bob Dylan line, “money doesn’t talk/it swears”
Alan, a guy I often see in the mall in funky Doringkloof and who sometimes helps me when I’m in the 35th minute of trying to complete the 10-minute crossword, came past to say hi. He’s in the insurance industry and has many clients whose homes were destroyed in the Knysna inferno.
He’s been down there a couple of times and he told me of the devastation he witnessed on his visits to check out the damage, the total value of which runs into billions.
What stood out in his mind was the way that some of these mansions had been razed to the ground, and the only thing still standing were the stone statues which had been erected in the gardens.
Alan told me of an ugly phenomenon that has raised its head. He says hardware and builders’ shops in Knysna had hugely hiked their prices for the construction contractors streaming into the town to tackle the reconstruction task.
Not only that, but local builders had apparently similarly hiked their fees. Many of the contractors were now buying materials from other towns like George and hiring out-of-town builders.
He told me of a specific instance where a local builder had quoted R1.5 million for a job. Based on the very same engineers’ report, an out-of-town guy agreed to do the job for R500 000.
I told Alan that if what he told me was, in fact, true, it made me despair I mean, where’s the community spirit, the old Dunkirk mettle?
I know it’s a question of supply and demand in a dog-eat-dog world, with everyone out for themselves and the devil taking the hindmost.
It’s like Jagger sings on the song about old Nick: “Please allow me to introduce myself/I’m a man of wealth and taste“; show some sympathy, indeed.
“That’s the ugly face of capitalism for you,” someone remarked sagely when I related the interaction to her.
Anyway, one day this week, that old The Mamas & The Papas song which goes: “All the leaves are brown/And the sky is grey” was playing on the PA at Café de Café. Very apt, except that the sky was actually deep blue.
Suddenly, my reverie and enjoyment of the crisp weather - along with a jar of amber nectar that I was nursing - was shattered by one of the centre’s workmen who had fired up his leaf blower. I’ve mentioned before that I have a bee in my bonnet over these infernal devices which seem to be proliferating in my neck of the woods.
I mean, what’s the point? Take the geezer this week; blowing the leaves hither and thither. Only for the next gust of wind to either help the leaves along, or blow them straight back to from whence they had come.
If the leaves were collected and then put on some kind of compost heap or so, sure; but what on Earth is the point to simply follow the above course of action?
Hey, it’s like Van the Man sings on Moondance: “And all the leaves on the trees are falling/To the sound of the breezes that blow”
If only that was the sole sound you heard in the winter months!
Anyway, the cleaner moved on and eventually the roar of the leaf blower became a mere murmur. I turned my attention to a news report about Eskom confirming that it would be paying bonuses worth millions to characters like Brian Molefe and Matshela Koko, while at the same time denying it was in dire financial straits.
Nice job, if you can get it, hey men of wealth; I’m not so sure about the taste though.