MONDAY - AGAIN

MONDAY - AGAIN

The weeks, Months, Years, Decades just start flowing into each other. I remember when I was still at school, the terms seemed endless, though it seldom exceeded two-and-a-half months. As the great levelling tool creeps up, time becomes compressed. I am spending a lot of time at home (and loving it) but the days just fly away. Every Monday, it hits you in the guts that yet another week has begun. What makes it even more pungent is the fact that you realise that every day since last Monday, at least one murder was reported in the papers.

Not crimes of passion, the old love triangle stuff, but hate crime, old people tortured, burnt with heated frying pans, clothes irons, tied with steel wire and repeatedly hit in the face, on the head, arms broken, legs broken, severely concussed. If they are lucky, they are left on the crime scene in a crumpled heap, the unlucky ones are used for target practise, maybe to assess the potency of the handgun taken from the previous farm attack.

These people  are someone’s parents, grandparents, uncles, aunts, brothers or sisters. They are the elderly that are living on farms with their children. These are the people that pioneered the country, worked the land from dawn till dusk to clear bush and start something worthwhile from land that has been lying idle for millennia. These are the people that changed this country from an importer of food, to an exporting entity.

Despite all the hardships, the old folks kept at it, through pestilence and drought, through the great economic depression, through the Anglo Boer War, they carried on steadfastly, never wavering.

Enter ANC, kill the farmer, kill the Boer – this song has symbolic meaning they say – it does not mean that the hordes that are swept into a frenzy by the singing  of it, should go out and start this ghastly business literally, they say. The murder of white farmers just magically escalated but definitely not because of this song, not because the illiterates that were promised farms for their vote were now let loose on the countryside to kill, rape and murder as they see fit.

The fact that the Modus Operandi in almost all the cases are identical seems to be invisible to the Government. For almost twenty years now, the MO is still the same. Very little gets stolen. Cellular phones, handguns and cash. A vehicle is sometimes taken and usually found dumped only a few Kilometres away.

The Targets are usually elderly people who are unable to present too much resistance. The attacks are usually brutal, definitely meant to create maximum revulsion and instill fear. Coupled to this, graphic police footage or photographs are usually leaked to the media – hence, maximum impact.

Could it be that several groups of people were selected in different regions, trained and then deployed in the areas known to them, or is it one group, travelling from district to district, plying their trade of terror. What is apparent is that the monotony and lack of serious deviation from the usual, points to one training master – one who has very little imagination or one who perhaps feel that the lack of serious attention from abroad (and locally), does not warrant re-training of the troops to vary their repertoire.

THE ONLY REAL TRUTH IS THE GROWING NUMBER OF GRAVES AND THE DECLINE OF THE AGRICULTURAL CONTRIBUTION TO OUR ECONOMY. EVENTUALLY IT WILL CEASE ALTOGETHER. THOSE WHO HAVE SWISS NUMBERED ACCOUNTS WILL LEAVE THE COUNTRY, THOSE WHO CAN NOT AFFORD THIS OPTION WILL BE FORCED BY NECESSITY  TO DENUDE THE COUNTRY OF WILDLIFE  AND ANYTHING EDIBLE AS A MEANS OF SURVIVAL. THIS IS A SHORT TERM SOLUTION – THE RESOURCE USED IN SUCH A WAY IS NOT RENEWABLE. THE END, FAMINE, CIVIL STRIFE – COUNTRY DOWN THE DRAIN, WILDLIFE – THE LEGACY OF OUR CHILDREN AND GRANDCHILDREN – GONE FOREVER – WHY, BECAUSE OF A SENSELESS PROMISE AND A STUPID LITTLE SONG