My Racism

My editor thinks I’m a racist
I can hear her thoughts when she reads my work
She feels that my bigotry shows
When I pen words that disparage the broad church
My political party doesn’t believe in racism
In fact its liberal hue condemns
The very notion of discrimination
Upholding the sovereignty of individuals instead
But that is no protection for me at any rate
You see I’m a banned person in fate
The government banned my appearances and
Proscribed my writings as liberal hate
I chose to condemn corruption,
To vilify the abysmal fraud that creeps silently
I chose to alienate the graft that came
So naturally to Durban’s smugglers mightily
But I did something else that perhaps
I cannot live down as easily today
I phoned 0123456789 and made demands
That I backed up with my secret game
In the shadows and the unknown
In the ways and means and the deathly telephone
I played a game so violent
That I overthrew the apartheid state’s very own
And as a child, a little boy, a humble slave
Chained as I was to eight fake sheiks
I suffered and was abused, I was injured and
Accused, I was beaten and killed to make
The opportunities for those who chose
Blackmail and fraud to pay for their magic
And mechanisms for those who chose
Murder and blackmail to pay for their logic
But wait, that’s not all
My service was another matter, of its own dimension
I was required to work and to pay for
Those who wanted to withhold without mention
They sought to defraud my master
Who policed the border and the underdeclaration
They wanted of course the protection of my master
In their dealings with the nation
And I was called upon to make up the difference
To keep those big deals solvent
For if it emerged that they had stolen from my master
They would have become completely irrelevant
This was all in a day’s work
For an earnest and enthusiastic one-two-three
Made in the line as a six by six
That’s thirty-six looking exactly like me
And yet that was not all that could be done
That was only two brotherhoods
So it was that again, my person would be summoned
And recourses made and took
To pay the third and most important
It would fall to me at every turn and time
For the clients that we kept were self-important
And of self-delusional lines
This done, my one-two-three’s would not rest yet
For as I said there were eight
That means that there were two for each of four
And that the last was most awake
His only claim was that we should not be
Dishonest and never be indolent or porcine
However as I said they were eight fake sheiks
And they were running away with mine
This meant a very swift deal to leverage
The clean people into overlooking the Chinese
And with some heavy dollaring the business dogs
Would claim that they had been Senegalese
So it was every day, my life was a constant scam
A repetition of paying for lives
Bartered and delivered in a process of payoffs
And claims to make possible the times
You see in this business it is permissible
To buy the lives of clients who have problems
And I am associated with and I do work for
The eight venerated shaiks pictured above
This was turned by criminals and apartheid apparatchiks
Into a sinister portmanteau
That sought to control, to subvert resistance
And to do dirty deals without virtue
Of paying off some Africans who favoured money
And were prepared to support apartheid
But doing so while running away under
The guise of those who opposed the hate
So that the white bosses, die wit base
Could never be accused of buying protection
From Pekkies, Kaffirs and Gollywogs
From Bruinous and Coolies or from Communists
So their game was simple, it was played commonly
In blackmail, murder and extortion
They would steal from the local blacks
In the names of the Nigerians with potions
They would steal from the Nigerians
In the names of the Senegalese with fake sheiks
They would steal from the Senegalese
In the names of the Americans with great hate
And then they would steal from the Americans
For the benefit of the NIS slush funds
They called it BOSS, they called it CCB
But it was blackmail, murder and extortion
They targeted black leaders, black business people
White verraaiers and the like
They went after anyone who dared to disobey or
Who dared to question apartheid’s right
To be sure they played a different game
With the white people who were well behaved
The framed the communists and socialists
As criminals and ensured the Americans got paid
The NIS was pervasive, it was all knowing and omniscient
But the fact is that it stole
And it stole from me and my eight venerated shaiks
All of whom despised apartheid’s whole
Approach and demeanour, its very racist and
Obvious hated based mechanisms for control
But of all my people disliked the dishonesty of
Apartheid, the hypocrisy as I was told
So in the early 1980’s we overthrew the
Apartheid state and then the NIS made a dirty plan
With the Americans to recreate the
Apartheid state and its neighbouring Bantu homelands
The President’s and Prime Minister’s offices
Were united, an Executive was created
The South Africa that emerged was engineered
By Delegates and Representatives so mated
The white people were completely dead
My people had killed the white South Africans
Remade white deadsuits with a record of stealing
Zombie voodoo from the Americans
This was the background which had the
Liberation movements include the tribal authorities
Here we saw the coming together of the black people
United without their separate calamities
It was an easy game from 1984 to 1987
Just three years of denial for the national supremists
They had to pretend that apartheid hadn’t already fallen
That the whiteman wasn’t defeated
From 1984 to 1987, every possible black negotiator
Was considered and comprehended
Those that were entirely criminal
So caught up in the NIS scams, were told to forget it
We found in London a group of ANC cadres
Who were not quite socialist in their making
And we set about negotiating for their participation
In apartheid’s very last undertaking
It wasn’t Mandela, it wasn’t Sisulu
It certainly wasn’t Tambo, it wasn’t even the ANC proper
No, we had the NIS and they had the apartheid government
And officials and we had the showstopper
The Executive State President, Mnr Botha
A broken dog on a leash in our very own pony show
We defeated the NIS at their own game and introduced
The London connections for negotiations to go
Ever opposed to the Delegates and Representatives
The Natal Indian Congress stood for ANC
And so it was that the talks began between
Congress and Broederbond as proxy for the NP
1987 rolled around and by this time Lusaka had taken over
The Senegalese were quite pleased
The apartheid regime was finished
Incapable of so much as a rumour, they were already fleeced
Thus we came to the final push from 1987 onwards
Every time the ANC won the NP would cry
And rally round the criminals who still had NIS debts to pay
To leverage discord and buy
Some time to figure out where they could go for help
Given that the ANC was protected
And every time they would capitulate and give in
To the demands for freedom as suggested
The knives were out, Botha down, De Klerk at the helm
The white deadsuits were scrambling
Desperate to stay afloat and not look the fool
The National Party started haggling
How much control and how much right would
We be prepared to accept, now not clinging
To the silly plan of a federation of eleven
Independent South African countries whinging
They had accepted the undoing of apartheid and
The reunification of South Africa in fact
They had come to the conclusion that
Their useful black idiots credibility did lack
But it took some machinations, some devilish manoeuvres
To telephone NIS on 0123456789
To demand the release of the political prisoners
And an end to apartheid’s dirty crime
The Senegalese watched and waited as
The white deadsuits reacted and gave way to reason
It was thus no surprise when Mnr De Klerk
Announced the coming of our impending freedom
The rest is history and it has been told
The story of 1990 to 1994 and our negotiations
The story of the last 26 years from 1994 to 2020
Has been recorded with commendations
But the point of this history lesson is quite simply this
My racism is not really there
I fell out with Mandela, I fell out with Sisulu
I fell out with Tambo and his heirs
I brought Ahmadu Bamba and Ibra Fall to put South Africa
To work so that it could stand tall
I was told South Africa wanted entitlement and a free ride
No work and just money for nothing at all
I brought Ahmed Tijan and Malik Sy to lift South Africa
Out of inequality, poverty and unemployment
I was told South Africa wanted employment equity
Expenditure tenders and black empowerment
I brought Muhamadu Laye and Abdul Qadir to remake South Africa
So that it would not be diseased
I was told South Africa wanted venal problems
Entrapment in Maslow’s hierarchy and greed
But the worst thing was when the ANC, began to behave
Like the NP of old, in its preferentiality
Treating rich South Africans like marks to be robbed
And poor South Africans like rubbish dirty
It is not simply the flawed logic of preferring
To give some blacks opportunity over others
It is not just the hypocrisy which says that we must
Enrich the politically connected brothers
But it is the corruption which ruined the state and
Trashed the economy of our little nation
And it is the gross malfeasance which we have recorded
And preserved as evidence for an occasion
You see, the NIS, didn’t have any real technology
It was just a bankrupt client that thought ill
And which tried to blackmail, murder and extort
Everyone that it could for the purposes of its mill
And when we transitioned to democracy and the rule of law
The ANC didn’t bring much of anything
So in the process of uniting and recreating the
Intelligence services, they hadn’t a song to sing
Instead of blackmail, murder and extortion to fill
NIA slush funds, the ANC chose self-enrichment
To line the pockets of the comrades, the cadres
The political appointees and ANC representatives
The whole house of cards isn’t even a pyramid scheme
It’s just a mutually negotiated swine-trough
The ANC is weak, unprotected and incapable of any
Intelligence – it just chows and laughs a lot
We haven’t invested in the African National Congress
And we haven’t invested in South Africa
We haven’t liberated South Africa’s people
They’re still trapped as deadsuits with Malaika
We’re waiting for South Africa to be liberated
From the negotiated settlement between Baas and Boer
That said we’ll reunite South Africa and keep
The logic of apartheid to fuel hate across the floor
The ANC is not the answer, it doesn’t have the class
While the other political parties are from apartheid
My own political party was started by me on a whim
To unite two apartheid phenomena and drive it
With liberalism and an open society mindset
That would actually deliver the rule of law and democracy
And free enterprise and a market economy to guarantee
Personal liberties, rights and responsibilities
So I don’t know why I’m considered racist
I do not respect shoddy or atrocious work ethics in any way
I work with black African people every day
agreeably not South African people but that is on my say
When South Africa wants self-respect and responsibility
We will respond enthusiastically in kind
But until South Africa pulls it collective head
Out of its collective arse, we will not be defined
As pro South African or even in favour of South Africa
We cannot in good conscience condone
The recycling of apartheid crimes and the
Discrimination conducted against individuals alone.

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