Do you trust Government? I would rephrase the question by asking: Do you trust our Government? But I just can't find it in myself. Government no longer seems like it's 'ours'; it doesn't appear as if this Government is 'For the people, by the people' anymore. To borrow one of the ANC's favourite words when describing and criticising tendencies, actions and beliefs which counter its own: Government seems alien to us, the electorate, the taxpayers, the citizens.
With each month that goes by under President Jacob Zuma's governance, the State drifts further away from us (and reality) and mistrust grows. A government task team's investigation into the Nkandla debacle signals yet another of these moments where the powers-that-be vacillate to the other end of reality, where absurdity thrives under deceit and incompetence. For me personally, it was a watershed moment of sorts where I witnessed Government continue to defend a glaring, shameless display of arrogance on the part of a president who seems comfortable in showing off his power, influence and wealth amid uncomfortable poverty. His blinkered approach to the assembly line of scandals resembles an abuse of power. Cynicism dictated to me that there was simply very little of transparent substance to accept from a government-sanctioned probe into whether our tax rands are being misspent, this time on ensuring Zuma and his familly are as comfortable in their daily lives as possible; all at the expense of an entire country. Some opposition parties have labelled the probe's findings as a 'whitewash'. I choose to call it an attack on our intelligence and trust.
There's a photo I see often of the now infamous Nkandla compound (I'm sorry I simply can't call it a 'residence' without being attacked by nausea). It's a panoramic shot of Zuma's sprawling estate, in all its vainglory. Nestled in the foreground of the photo, virtually in the shadow of the compound, is a mud hut, a woman sitting outside the dwelling doing what seems like washing. The hut can't be more than a few square metres in size, it's decrepit facade stuns me when compared to how the president thinks he is allowed and entitled to live just a few kilometers from the rank-and-file of the country's poor. It speaks the proverbial 'a thousand words'. While Zuma and his family visibly benefit from the spoils of his presidency and influence, the multitude of South African citizens must accept the grim realities that plague the country. For the middle-class, we must shut up (that's the message being sent by Zuma's spin doctors) and deal with it. Accept is all we can do because whinging about Government's shortcomings (especially if you are a White person) is dismissed by the ANC state as unjustified; as for criticising Government, well, we all know what happens if you dare to speak out against the the Zuma administration. However, my acceptance comes with immense amounts of anger and cynicism. I will accept this is how Zuma rules. I accept he probably feels nothing for those who vote him and his party into power. I also accept I have lost complete trust in him and the state.
I'd like to travel to Nkandla and meet the woman in the photo. My question to her would be very simple: Do you (still) trust Msholozi? As I ask the question, my eyes would survey her reality, one characterised by desperate penury. My eyes would then glare through one of her windows at the growing compound where Zuma and his family will languish. For now, I can only guess her answer(s). Perhaps like the millions who share her fate she too is waiting for those election promises to come to fruition. Maybe she's one of those eternal optimists or die-hard 'Nkandlists' who will continue to suffer from a condition I call 'Zanu-PF-isis (a key symptom includes the inability to be able to vote for any other political party other than the one which has consistently lied and cheated it's electorate decade after decade). Like Robert Mugabe, Zuma seems detached from reality. Like Mugabe, Zuma seem oblivious to how compromised and tarnished he has become. Zuma's Nkandla neighbour could, on the other hand, be seething, like many of us are. She could launch into a bilious tirade of how she feels cheated by the president's conspicuous consumption. I can only hope this is her response, if I'm to retain a sembelance of faith in my fellow South African.
When levels of trust sink to dangerous lows, we know what happens. Zamdela happens. At least two service delivery protests a day happen. Credit down gradings happen. Marikana happens.
Many senior government officials have been transformed into nothing more than sycophants who fluff, bluff, pad, skirt, dodge and dive through one Zuma scandal after another, much like kamikaze pilots. Their compliance, their blind loyalty and willingness to be party to the Nkandla saga (and other controversies) only further serves to erode public trust in Government.
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