Former public enterprise minister Lynne Brown has vowed to clear her name after she was implicated by witnesses who appeared at the Zondo commission. Picture: Gallo Images
The fibre-optic lines must’ve sizzled to and from Nkandla when the latest state capture commission’s recommendations were released.
The naming and shaming of specific individuals by Chief Justice Raymond Zondo has undoubtedly unnerved those implicated.
Like Lynne Brown, who probably thought she could ride out the storm with her denials and so called loss of memory.
It’s an easy guess the first call Jacob Zuma received was from her. After all, she had rung the changes at Eskom and evidently obeyed his orders.
“Hi, Jacob. What now? I’m plumb in the spotlight. And the damn media is baying for blood.”
“Lynne, Lynne, you must relax.
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The moment will pass. People forget. Take my case. I’ve been ducking it for years.
What you must do is what naughty husbands do when their wives catch them with their pants down: “deny, deny, deny. And stick with your ‘memory loss’ line.”
“Jacob, I’m not so sure this time. Raymond has that confident look of having more evidence up his sleeve. My hot flushes are becoming more pronounced – a sign of bad things to come.
“You men feel it in your water when things are suspect. We need to look at escaping. A call to the Guptas?”
“That’s a drastic step, Lynne. And the authorities will be watching us like hawks.”
“We could leave in stages. I’ll be the first and have my hair cut short and wear Islamic clothing.”
“Not a bad idea. Now you have me thinking. Maybe we should get the hell out of here just in case they get clever. My wives can emulate you and I’ll dress like a typical Arab. Lawrence of Arabia.
Hehheh.”
“Tee-hee. Right. A black Peter O’Toole. Should do the trick.”
“No, better still. We go as the movie cast of Ali Baba and Forty Thieves. I’ll be Ali Baba and I’ll use our state capture contacts as the thieves. They’ll fit in quite naturally. Once in Dubai, we can revert to our normal lives. There’s no extradition understanding between Dubai and South Africa.”
“Thank you, Ali … sorry, Jacob. I knew you’ll pull it out of the hat. Can’t wait to leave Bheki Cele and the NPA flat-footed. Again.”
More fake than fact? Whatever. Without Lynne’s answers, it’s fertile ground for a historic movie of a corrupt government featuring a lookalike Zuma.
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