Tuesday, May 28, 2024

Lamentation of the Youth

     

People born in the 1960’s and 1970’s should be retired by now so that those of us who were born in the 1980’s, 1990’s and the year 2000 can also get the chance to earn our living. 

Those who were born in the above-mentioned years should have already managed to buy houses and cars by now, but that’s sadly not how it is. Like those of us who are young and unemployed they too can’t afford to own a house much less to buy a car! But they are working and earning WHAT A SHAME.

There is no denying the fact that the cost of living is too high these days but those who are working especially in government facilities should at least manage to afford decent housing but no… most of them are staying in state owned properties, some are renting because they simply cannot qualify to buy houses. Worst of all the so called government is reluctant to give these poor struggling workers a share of their pension money early as they claim that there will be penalties for them if they are given their money. Even a blind man can see how old and tired most of these government workers are but they are forced to work until they reach the age of 60 anyway. It’s really sad because even though they are working most of them are drowning deep in debts living from hand to mouth, some even depend on loan sharks in order to make ends meet. Only a few can afford to take loans from banks due to bad credit record.

Nowadays the youth including those who are graduates are forced to make career changes or opt for any other available jobs no matter how shitty the wages are because of high unemployment rate in the country. Private companies are using labor brokers to employ people. Even those jobs are nothing but mere contracts with a short expiry date, we simply don’t have any stable jobs anymore. The ANC government promised to create more jobs after it became a ruling party in 1994 but we still don’t see any difference whatsoever in terms of job creation to this day.

What the ANC government did instead is introduce tender system that only benefits ‘them’, by ‘them’ I mean the people in high places. They give those tenders to their family members and friends overlooking the most qualifying applicants for those tenders. No one up there seem to care one bit about the suffering working class folks.

Not that I am glorifying the apartheid government but at least then things weren’t as dire as they are today jobwise. Back then there used to be railway police and municipal security personnel who safe guarded the premises and made sure that the infrastructure stayed intact and nothing got vandalized. But today we have contracts which don’t even abide by the bargaining council. 

Kante Senzeni as Mzansi to deserve this?

Black people are enriching themselves at the expense of other black people. There is no hope for the ruling party anymore and quite frankly I doubt there will ever be hope ever again in it.

 Umuntu omnyama waze walimosha izwe lethu! 

The parliament is full of amakhehla noGogo but they have the nerve and the audacity to make age restriction of 18-35 whenever they are advertising posts, but everyone is voting from the age of 18 and beyond, where is democracy in that? They create unnecessary barriers for the youth to break into the job market by demanding work experience but conveniently the president can shuffle and reshuffle the cabinet as he pleases. A minister of transport can be made a minister of health without having any experience whatsoever for the new post he/she is given on a silver platter.

It’s time to take down the ANC government come the elections of 2024! Young men and young women of South Africa you deserve better. Make the right decision for yourselves when casting your votes. They promised us free education but we still have lots of students dropping out of universities and colleges because of lack of finance. We are being taken for a ride by the ANC and that must come to an end!

ALUTA CONTINUA…..         


Bingo’s Battle.


        

Ever since his brother’s incarceration on the 22nd of June 2022 Bingo had been haunted by his family’s financial future prospects. His brother Peter had left behind some very big shoes to fill. Even though his contract as a teacher assistant at his former school was still in progress then, Bingo dreaded its termination date. 

He had made all necessary preparations for when his contract at the school ended. He became more proactive in his search for employment elsewhere. He sometimes even reported that he’d arrive late to work because of some family emergency while going to submit CVs for his next employment instead. He tried saving up money but found it very hard because of family obligations. Unlike before when his brother used to help them more, he realized that times have changed and the roles have been reversed. He now had to help his brother behind bars and their family more finically than before.

He did his best to prepare for the unavoidable rainy days that loomed ahead but no matter how prepared he was, he couldn’t stop life from happening. Unfortunately however, all those job applications he sent out yielded absolutely nothing. No job offer, not even a genuine interview invitation. All he got were invites from scammers who wanted to rip him off the money he didn’t even have. Three months after his contract at the school was terminated, Bingo decided to apply for his Unemployment Insurance Fund (UIF). He had heard a friend saying that it only took two to three weeks for the money to be paid into the applicants’ bank account after application.

Armed with the knowledge that he’d be having money in three weeks’ time, he began making plans for himself and for the whole family. Everyone in his home sighed in relief that at least they’d have good festive season filled with abundance as the big brother had always ensured. Bingo too felt very proud that he would at least be able to put not only the smiles on his family member’s faces but also ample food on the table as well during festive seasons.

Days passed. Weeks and months followed but he still hadn’t received word about the money he was expecting. Next thing he knew it was festive season and he still had no money. With no food on the table there were no smiles on his family’s faces and that tore him apart. He became moody and uncommunicative. He spent more days indoors buried in books and trying to write. Most weekend nights he spent out drinking with friends and developed a bad habit. Unlike before he smoked like a chimney, drank like a fish and avoided food like a plague much to his grandmother’s dismay. He began to lose so much weight that most people in the neighborhood even suspected he was sick or using drugs. Neighbors commented on his heavy drinking but he couldn’t be bothered by what they said behind his back. He thought he was dealing with his issues the best way possible but his grandmother and everyone else begged to differ. 

Even though Magauta tolerates his grandson’s dallying with books and some days even starring at the computer screen all day, it is not an ideal way for a black man to spend his days she believes. In one of her outburst which had become reasonably frequent, the grandmother had said to her grandson;

‘My daughter’s son, instead of wasting your life away like this in booze and those old worthless books you read all day long, why aren’t you going out there to look for work? Can’t you see how hard the times are? 

Instead of answering both questions Bingo answered the former by trying to explain to the old lady all the modern ways of searching and applying for jobs he uses. But the old woman didn’t want to hear any of it. She remained convinced that Bingo is not trying nearly hard enough to find work. She lamented how good things used to be before the ANC took over the country.

‘The whites no matter how badly they treated black people at least everyone was working’, she said.

No answer, Bingo didn’t know what to say to that. He wasn’t even born yet when the whites were in charge of the country. 

‘They tell our children to go to school because education is the key to success. You went to school. You are educated .Where is that success now? All of a sudden all the doors that used to be opened up by education are working with gold tokens it seems. You have to know somebody that knows the other guy that knows someone who is in charge somewhere and even that someone wants money to give you a job what kind of nonsense is that? Huh! Answer me?’    

Poor Bingo didn’t even know what to say to his grandmother’s rants. He felt under a lot of pressure to find a job soon rather than later so that he could make her and the whole family happy and proud. However, personally he felt impersonal to the fact that he was unemployed. Obviously the fact that he can’t provide for his family disturbs his peace of mind and torments his soul mercilessly. Every day when he wakes up in the morning he has nothing to do except clean his room or sweep the yard, nowhere to go except running errands for granny. He brings nothing home at the end of each day. In that mundane routine, however, Bingo sees the bright side of it all even though no else in his home does. 

‘Unemployment means different things for different people’, Bingo wrote in his notebook as his grandmother turned her back on him seeing that he has no answer for her, ‘for the artistic people like myself unemployment means having ample time to focus on my craft and honing my skills as a writer. Show me any self-respecting artist who wouldn’t appreciate such a luxury despite its financial shortcomings...’ he left the sentence unfinished and lit a cigarette. 

As fate would have it Bingo and his family had one of the darkest festive season in their family history. The New Year had begun 2023 and everyone had great hopes for it. Well into the second month, on a Saturday of February 11th Bingo had been spending time indoors all in the hopes of getting some work done on his screenplay. He appeared not to be in the mood to go anywhere. His friend Boy rang his phone and asked him where he was. Bingo told him he was at his place. Boy marveled at this and asked if his friend was okay. Bingo told him he was alright just wasn’t in the mood for the streets. Boy simply couldn’t accept that, he went ahead to insist that Bingo come over to Monyaka Gym in their neighborhood where he was waiting for the guy they called Tantrum. Reluctantly Bingo agreed. 

When he approached him, Boy told Bingo he had to take a leak at the nearby bush. On his way towards the bush clearly pressed he met with Mpho their mutual friend and Bingo’s former class mate from primary school. Mpho was talking to some other guy but as soon as he saw Boy he wanted to stop him right there and have a conversation with him as well. Boy told him he had to pee and that Bingo was right behind him. Mpho came rushing towards Bingo and hugged him tightly clearly happy to see him after many years, the feeling was mutual between the two. Even though he was drunk Mpho asked Bingo to buy him a beer. Bingo told him he is broke.

‘Okay, roll me a joint then’, he said almost as if weighing his pockets.

‘Bro, I don’t have a cent on me. I don’t even have a cigarette for that matter. Let me light that one you have in your hand’, Bingo said taking the cigarette from Mpho.

Mpho was noticeably disturbed by his friend’s broke-ness. He asked him what he was doing for a living then Bingo answered him that he’d been looking for work but without luck. Mpho thought a moment then took out a piece of paper from his lunch bag as he had knocked off from Timber City where he works but had not gone home yet. 

‘Here my friend, take this number and give Zaheer a call. When he asks if you have any experience working with wood. Say yes. Call him now’, he said. 

Bingo didn’t expect bumping to Mpho nor having to make a call to a strange Indian man about a job. He told Mpho he’d just take the number and phone tomorrow as he had no airtime then. Mpho was drunk and Bingo thought phoning the man right then was a bad idea so he waited for the following day. The next day Bingo made a call but it went straight to voicemail. A few minutes later the man reverted back to him. Upon answering the phone Bingo introduced himself, told the man who he’d taken his number from and stated clearly his reason for the missed call. Zaheer asked Bingo whether he had any experience working with wood and he agreed, Zaheer Okayed. Then briefly told Bingo about his starting out business and concluded by inviting him to his place the following day. 

Bingo knew that the invitation was not necessarily a guarantee for a job but he looked forward to the rendezvous anyway. He told granny about the meeting with the man at Three Rivers that had a promise of a job. Granny was ecstatic about the news, she gave Bingo money for transport the next day and even prayed with him before he left in the morning. 

Upon his arrival at the address the man had given him yesterday Bingo met one of his drinking buddies from the hood doing a paint job there. The two seemed happy to see each other as they exchanged pleasantries then Bingo was ushered in what looks like a workshop. Zaheer told him to sit down.

‘You said you have experience working with wood right’, he asked

‘Yeah just a little though am not a pro’.

Then Zaheer continued to tell him of his long experience in the field of interior design and furniture designing. He told him he was in real business before but sadly went under because of tough economic times and other personal things but now wanted to pick up where he left off and was looking for an assistant. He told Bingo quite honestly that he won’t be able to pay him much particularly because he doesn’t have enough experience and he couldn’t pay him a little also because of transport. Bingo thought the man fair and liked him right away. He accepted the job and agreed to start the following day. 

When Bingo came to work the next day he realized that contrary to the belief he had about Zaheer living somewhere in a decent home away from the dilapidated house he was working in, Zaheer was in fact living there in the yard over ran with wild weeds and unfinished plans. Bingo later learnt that the house was in its current state because Zaheer had been through a difficult divorce that left him with a severe depression and bankruptcy that led him to destroy the house and sell everything of value he owned. Bingo was happy Zaheer gave him a job but then he began to wonder to himself how can someone who so clearly needs help himself be able to help anyone?

Then an eerie quote he had read sprang to mind;

“There is a false saying: How can someone who can’t save himself save others? Supposing I have the key to your chains; why should your lock and my lock be the same?” 

He smiled knowingly to himself. 


Friday, December 4, 2020

2020 achievement #One

Local author published in pandemic anthology
Food soldiers appears among the 100 selected entries

Gauteng, South Africa, (November 30, 2020) – It’s been more than 8 months since a global pandemic shattered our world. Perhaps for the first time in history, people from every continent are experiencing the same emotions—fear, anger, sadness, anxiety. How are they coping? What are they learning? How have they changed? Writers and artists of every age from six continents have contributed original art, photography, poems, essays, fiction and scripts to create In the Midst, a COVID-19 Anthology. The works reflect a common humanity beyond age, ethnicity or location—the raw  emotion of being In the Midst of a global pandemic with no end in sight is universal—and captured here to share with the world.
People are suffering in so many ways from this unprecedented situation. But the pages of this anthology carry much more than tears. They also show the resilience of the human spirit. Some offer encouragement. Some ways of coping—especially creative ways, such as taking up new hobbies. Others find humor in hair, the quest for toilet paper and the mandate to “wash your hands.” Some describe new skills or practices that have improved their lives—things they will retain long after the pandemic is over. And many show appreciation to the ones who’ve sacrificed to keep the world moving.

Local writer, Setjhaba Ernest Moleko , has been published in this anthology. His essay, “Food Soldiers” appears among the 100 selected entries. The anthology was sponsored and coordinated by Inspiration for Writers, Inc. 
“I’ve always said that when you share your art or your writing, you share your soul,” says editor and Inspiration for Writers, Inc CEO Sandy Tritt. “I hope you are as touched as I have been by these honest, from-the-gut reactions while still in the midst of this historic pandemic. Hopefully, we’ll see our way out of this soon, and this anthology will become a collection to help future generations understand what it was like to endure separation from friends and family, shutdowns of schools, churches and “non-essential” businesses and, of course, the fear and suffering caused by illness and death.”   

Copies are available from Amazon (ASIN B08NX43Y4L for the Black and White interior or B08NX6Q2Q1 for the full color version) or contact editor Sandy Tritt at IFWeditors@gmail.com. 
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About Inspiration for Writers, Inc.
At Inspiration for Writers, Inc., our mission is to assist writers of all skill levels in achieving their writing and publishing goals. We accomplish this by teaching the craft of writing, by identifying issues that will prevent publication, by encouraging writers to bring their writing to the next level, and by supporting those writers throughout the process. Incorporated in 2009, Inspiration for Writers, Inc. has been on the web since 1999, making it one of the oldest continually operating online editing firms. Our clients hail from every state within the United States and from more than fifteen countries. Our goal is simple: to make you the best writer you can be. Learn more about us at www.inspirationforwriters.com.


Wednesday, July 15, 2020

Corona @ Work 2020

           

Things truly are tense these days at work. With this Covid19 pendemic at its thickest now that it's winter, more and more of my colleagues keeps on getting sick.

Our boss the owner of the shop we work at is not determined to close down his shop because he claims that more staff members keeps on getting sick because they do not follow the health rules and regulations of always wearing a face mask, washing their hands regularly and maintaining social distance as they should.

He says that he won't ever close down his business because of people who are careless and do not follow instructions.

But I on the other hand believe that our boss is being utterly selfish and inconsiderate of us his staff members, the heart and soul of his so_called_business. How can he gamble with our lives like this? I like many of my colleagues keep asking myself without getting any answer whatsoever.

True he'd been vigilant, overprotective and proactive in making sure that all his staff members don't ever get sick when all this thing started. He bought us all the face masks, ensured that our hands and that of his customers were properly sanitized before entering the shop. He even had those fancy looking stickers on the floor that ensured that the customers maintain a safe following distance as they cueud to pay for their groceries.

However prepared he was though, we as his staff members were bound to get infected someway or the other because first of all when the government announced the national lockdown we were exempt from it. Unlike other professional workers that were under lockdown, we were expected to go to work as usual as the president had certified us as one of the essential service providers. We traveled from home to work in taxis full of people who had no masks on. We met and dealt with customers who came from all over. We packed up the stock that was already touched by other people somewhere. We handled money that had already passed from many other hands. We worked in the cold environment.

But now that we have seen some of our colleagues getting sick and have a few confirmed cases in our workplace our employer doesn't want to do the right thing and close down his business like all other business owners do when their staff members are found infected with this vicious deadly virus.

One of our colleagues approached our boss with the suggestion that he considers closing down the business but as expected our boss refused to heed the advice in spite of having more than four people from different departments sitting at home sick with the virus.

With other departments understaffed and some workers overworked there seems to be no rest for many of us as we are all expected to do the work of other staff members who are absent from work without even being compensated accordingly for our efforts.

Looking at this situation, I've come to  believe there is a thin line between being a pationate business man and a greedy slavedriver whose only interest is making more money in expense of people's lives.

If this is the way people who have money treat those who do not have any, then I am content with not having any. I now believe that the poor man is closest to God because he appreciates the little things unlike the rich man who worships silver and gold and does everything he can to get his hands on it.