“There’s a kind of hush
All over the world, tonight…”
As the tones of Herman’s Hermits wafted out of the expensive speakers in the lounge, the young man in the skinny Pierre Cardin trousers, white linen shirt and Gucci loafers shook his head in frustration. Where on earth had Baba picked up this fetish for ’60s music?
No one would ever have labelled the old man a “Baby Boomer”. The single cause of a baby boom in the hills of northern KZN – maybe…
From down the hall, he could hear Baba singing, even over the pop music and the thrum of the shower water. The old man did love his showers and he did love his struggle songs…
“Umshini wami, Umshini wami…”
Duduzane glanced down at his gold-plated Samsung. Videos of troops handing out snotklaps to people who wouldn’t stay indoors trended so much they had overtaken cat videos.
The Buffalo Soldier – as he now clearly was after his appearance in camouflage on Thursday ahead of the countrywide lockdown – was taking no nonsense. Even as that thought crossed Duduzane’s mind, he could hear another ’60s classic, Silence is Golden, coming from the speakers.
No! This was not Baba’s playlist! This must have been put together by Pravin’s rogue unit in a Lockdown’s Greatest Hits compilation, thought Duduzane and he rushed over to the hi-fi system and pushed the off button.
The sounds of the shower fell silent and, not long afterwards, draped in a towel marked “Oberoi Hotel, Dubai”, Baba made his entrance.
“Ah fruit of my loins! It is good to see you! What are you doing here?”
“Father, remember we had all planned to gather here at Nkandla this weekend for our war cabinet to plot the removal of Ramaphosa… but then he went and put the country into lockdown. Some of us decided it would be better to stay here because this Covid-19 thing means we can’t get our voice heard!”
“Lockdown! What lockdown? Ace told me they would not dare lock me up!”
Duduzane took a deep breath. “Yes, oh man-who-brought-me-into-the-world. That is true but this is not a lock-up, it is a lockdown … and this is already the third day.”
Baba looked bewildered, as if he were reading a speech. “The third day? But that means we must stay here for another eleventy four days?”
Duduzane nodded. “But I feel I must go out to claim another bride,”’ said the old man, twirling around so the Oberoi Hotel towel fell in a clump on the floor, revealing his other Umshini…
On a roll now, Baba gestured to the magnificent long-horned cows in the specially constructed kraal known as uTaxpayer.
“I have enough cattles, thanks to Supra and I feel strong. The doctors in Cuba are good but the rum is strong and the women even stronger!” shouted Baba, with that old hunting glint returning to his eye.
“But, “said Dduzane, “the army won’t let you outside because of the virus!”
“I will tell them I had a shower and if they argue, then bring me Umshini wami!” his dad roared.
“We can’t, oh Great One. The machinegun was repossessed. Atul and Ajay told me they couldn’t keep up the payments because they had cash flow problems…”
Baba swung around. “Karl! Where are you? We need money.”
Getting out of the firepool and donning his MK veterans’ uniform, Karl said: “I am here, Chief.”
He grabbed a pen and paper: “I know. I will write to Johann Rupert and tell him we need face masks for an old-age home. This sort of line has worked for me before…”
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