Pop Idols is now into its 10th season in South Africa, but it has a long way to go to rival the country’s big three yearly game shows, now entering their 23rd season – the prizes offered by the SABC, SAA and ESKOM are also much bigger and you don’t need to have any talent to win any of them either.
Over the past 23 years, since the dawn of our glorious liberation from competence and the dark memories of roads without potholes and state departments that used to function, a fresh crop of twelve directors have been chosen to the board of the SABC to have a crack at this year’s R5 billion bailout jackpot up for grabs. Money no taxpayer in their right mind can begrudge spending so little on to keep our fine public broadcaster going. Hell. what would life in SA be without the SABC?
Understandably the 2017 crop at the SABC might be a little peeved. Their R5 billion bailout pales into insignificance compared to the R12 billion bailout bonanza at SAA this year. The players at ESKOM this year will also have to settle for a paltry R5 billion, this time around.
Let’s face it, it’s not fair. Why should the cadres at SAA have R7 billion more to share than their counterparts at the SABC and ESKOM? After all, the rules are the same. Get appointed, fly all over the world in business class, stay in 6-star hotels, throw as many gala bashes and banquets as you can and put pictures of yourselves up in the reception areas of your office complexes so that your staff and the security guys can recognise you when you do make an appearance at work every few months to award tenders to your dummy companies and family.
23 seasons in and the game hasn’t changed. Some boards manage to survive two years to have another bite at the cherry and slurp at the caviar – what admirable people. Most of the lesser contestants usually settle for just one year to make way for the next fresh crop of cadres lining up for their big payday – what unselfish, honourable office bearing good fellas they are – who said there isn’t honour among thieves?
Hell, they are such great sports that they even give the DA a good chance to demand that they all get fired – getting fired from these organisations is the best career move you can make. Well not exactly fired – suspended, with full pay, benefits and bonuses, pending an inquiry in 2069. The wheels of justice in South Africa are that swift and finely-tuned. Thank God we still have a judiciary left, depending on the judge selected to preside over your case. This satisfies the DA and once they have filed their motion in court, they swiftly lose interest in these upstanding public officials and leave them on the payroll, without any further bother. Where would this country be without the DA?
Sometimes you get lucky and have another crack at pot, even after the Attorney General finally gets around to auditing you and the DA files more court papers. Stick around for another year and take another crack at the Zama Zuma treasury trough.
I know I would, but they always reject my CV, even though I tell them I am a practising Zulu, but no matter how much time I spend working on my gumboot dance and suntan, they always fob me off.
They won’t even give me a chance for a day… that’s all I ask. Is that selfish of me? Hell, just give me a half-day. I need a new double-story mansion, private jet and 3000 cases of Johnny Blue Label really badly.
In fact, I reckon I could run all three of these fine “Proudly South African” brands, blindfolded, with both hands tied behind my back, more efficiently than the last 69 CEOs they have appointed since 1994. In fact, I believe that they need to appoint blind, deaf, limbless directors – I’ve had enough of this able-bodied imbalance against the alternatively-abled. Why don’t they ever get a look in? What blatant discrimination.
Don’t get me wrong here, I’m all for political-correctness and I’ve unselfishly decided to make it work for me. Therefore, I’ve decided to poke my eyes out, insert sosatie sticks into my ears to permanently render me hearing impaired and amputate all of my limbs and then turn gay to make sure, and then resubmit my CV as a transvestite Zulu.
If they turn my application down again, I’ll take them to the Human Rights Commission. We all know what a noble role they play in keeping a fair and equitable balance going on here in the Rainbow Nation. Where would the farmers in this country be without them?
On the other hand, maybe I’ll simply keep my one-man protest up by always parking in the handicapped zone when I visit the mall… insanity is a vastly under-acknowledged handicap.