Today, I’m not in a rant. I shall not say the only functioning thing in a certain ministry is the air conditioner in the minister’s office. I’m doing something risky… something that might get me investigated. Thank you! Yes, I said it. Government, thank you! I know some of you are uncomfortable right now. You’re reading this like, ‘Who paid this man?’ Relax. Nobody paid me. In fact, that’s exactly my point. For once, it feels like somebody paid government and government actually used the money on us.
As right now, the world is expensive for no reason.
Wars are happening in countries we can’t even spell, oil prices are behaving like they have emotions and somehow… Russia attacked Ukraine and bread is now a luxury item. Bread!
We used to eat bread while thinking about life. Now you must think about life before eating bread. However, in the middle of all this chaos, government said: “Let’s cushion people.” Electricity… fuel… small reliefs.
I won’t lie, I felt it. That moment when you buy electricity units and the number looks respectful, not insulting. You even press the meter twice… like, ‘Are you sure?’
That’s when I said… okay… I can negotiate. In fact, I’ve made a decision. I will ignore potholes. Completely. As long as I have electricity and my units are not disappearing like they owe someone money… I will drive around potholes like I am in Fast & Furious: KaBhudla Drift. Left. Right. Brake. Pray. Since life is about priorities, light first. Suspension later. Same thing with fuel.If I am not putting in E50 and the pump gives me fuel that behaves like it is just visiting my tank… ‘Hello… I’m here… I’m leaving.’
We are fine because there was a time when E50 used to mean something. Now E50 is just a greeting. You don’t even check the gauge anymore; you check your spirit. So yes, government, I see the effort and now that we are talking… let’s talk properly.
This is because some of your employees did not get the memo. You walk into an office for a service and everything is official; forms, stamps and queues. Then someone leans in like they’re about to tell you a secret about your future: ‘Cold drink?’
Wolidi… this is not a restaurant. Why are we ordering beverages inside a government building? The worst part is the confidence. Like it’s on the price list: Birth certificate: E50
Passport: E300. Cold drink: Negotiable. No!
From today… I am only paying at Revenue station. Receipt or nothing because my next demand is clear. Subsidise bread. Yes. Bread is now my political agenda. Forget manifestos. I want affordable sandwiches.
So if I must choose between corruption and carbohydrates… I’m choosing survival. Since we are being honest… snitches get stitches. We all know that, but this time. I am snitching. Fully! I am watching these shops. You know the ones. The till is not working … until it’s time to give change. Suddenly, the drawer opens nonchalantly like a roach creeping out of an A-rated eatery. So, the machine cannot record income, but it can release coins? Ah! From now on, I am calculating VAT in my head like a bitter accountant.
The money you are hiding is my cushioning. That is fuel relief disappearing.
That is my future cheap bread being eaten privately.
While I’m at it… I am also observing lifestyles. From today, if you work an 8-to-5 job… but you are living like weekends come with sponsorship, I am watching you. Silently. The extra money should be passing through, government first.Then return to us as services. Instead, it is buying German cars and confidence. Not under my watch. We are closing those leaks. Even on the road… I am adjusting. Dashboard camera. Installed. Not for accidents. For evidence.
Next time a police officer announces a sale on gazetted fines and says, ‘Give me what you have’… no receipt…just vibes… I want a full documentary. We are not running a roadside special. If I break the law, charge me properly. Let my money go back into the system.
Back into cushioning. Back into me surviving this economy with dignity. Same with those E30 collections from overloaded kombis. Yes, we see you. Collecting money like it’s a stokvel. Meanwhile, passengers are packed like groceries. Safety is negotiable, but collections are consistent.
That money is not going to government. That is missed cushioning. That is us missing relief. That is my future bread… again… under attack.
For the first time in a long time… I can see what happens when that money is used properly. There is relief. Small… but real.It makes you realise something uncomfortable.
Maybe the problem is not that we don’t have money. Maybe the problem is that some people are eating before the food reaches the table. So here is my message to emaSwati. Let’s all become snitches. Yes. Like three-year-old children. Those ones, fear fakkol. They tell it like it is. No fear. No filter.
Corruption is not clever. It is not survival. It is theft… with confidence and it is taking money directly from your pocket before you even touch it.
Money that could be doing something. Electricity. Fuel.
Bread. Maybe even potholes… but let’s not rush miracles. One blessing at a time. Government, we see you. We appreciate it. Continue. For the rest of us, let us understand that freebies from corrupt people are not just freebies. It is money depriving you of medication in public health facilities. Money depriving your relatives of scholarships. It is money nicked from the elderly’s grant. We are now watching everything. If life is already better with small honesty, imagine what would happen if nobody was stealing the change.
Today, I’m not in a rant. I shall not say the only functioning thing in a certain ministry is the air conditioner in the minister’s office.