‘Honestly? It’s a Lost Cause’

The lash and crack of the bullwhip tore the contemplative silence in the judge’s wood-panelled chambers.

Raymond Zondo pushed his glasses back up his nose and stared in wonder at the apparition before him in cowboy hat, boots and khaki trousers and shirt.

The awful thought crossed his mind: Was this Steve Hofmeyr? Please, no – I think the man’s politics are absurd in this day and age, but his music… well, that is enough to make anyone reach for the earplugs.

Then the judge noticed something odd: he had been told that one Indiana Jones – famous archaeologist, discoverer of treasure and, most importantly, finder of Truths – had applied for a job as a commission investigator. But this didn’t look like some Caucasian American professor – no
matter how tanned.

The dark-skinned hat-wearing one suddenly burst out: “Howzit, cuzzies!” Zondo mumbled: “Are you Indiana Jones?” “No Man!” the visitor roared with laughter.

“I’m Indian Jones… you know we always give a little discount ’nd all and I knocked off the a!” Zondo thought for a moment and then asked: “Do you think you have enough experience to help us track down what happened to the Honest Soul of the ANC?”

“Of course, bru…let’s just call it Raiders ofthe Lost Cause! “ Zondo wasn’t amused. “Why should we hire you?”

“Well, bru, I got me some experience in the Temple of Doom and, from what I hear, that’s a pretty good description of Luthuli House these days! I know snakes when I see them, which means I’ll be pretty good dealing with people from the National Executive Committee and plenty of times I’ve had to duck out of the way ofcollapsing structures… so I’ll easily find my way around Eskom and Prasa…”

“And, what else?” Zondo asked.“Bru, it’s obvious: with this hat, people will think I’m Bheki Cele …”

* * *
Two weeks later – as Zondo was filling out another complaint form, hoping to get the Saps to arrest Jacob Zuma – the door burst open and a dusty but angry Indian Jones threw himself onto the leather sofa.

“I’m done, bru! I looked for the ANC’s Honest Soul all over. I went to Medupi and Kusile power stations. Nothing – except that they’re taking so long to build them I found I have seen newer
technology in the pyramids…

“Then I went to Nkandla, called myself Schabir Shaik and Zuma didn’t notice. He poured me some ‘Ceylon’ tea and went ‘heh, heh’ before telling me I owed him 15 years of ‘backpayments’… I checked the firepool’s Kreepy Krauly to make sure the Honest Soul wasn’t hidden there… but nothing, bru.

“I went to Dubai, pretending to be a wedding planner and although I checked out Atul, Tony and Ajay closely I found no evidence they had stolen the Honest Soul and taken it with them.

“I went to Union Buildings and searched 107 black BMWs with blue lights. Nothing. I spoke to Mbaks in transport … nothing… although that was what was inside his head, to be honest…”

Zondo listened dispassionately. “So, Mr Jones, what is your conclusion?”

“Bru – sorry, Your Lordship, I could find no evidence that the Honest Soul of the ANC was stolen, nor that it had been battered and destroyed by corrupt cadres.

“Sir – my verdict: the Honest Soul of ANC never existed. It’s fiction out of a Hollywood movie…”

Brendan Seery

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