Mbaks stroked his gold iPhone8 lovingly. It was one of the first to arrive in the country, flown in specially from Dubai. He had it wrapped in unique gold foil by Abdul, the man he met in the souk there when he was on that “private family holiday” last year.
It was a Sunday afternoon but when you’re a tireless crime fighter, you care not for hours. Twitter is always woke, man. So you can get your message out there. Mbaks smiled. He would show these detectives a thing or two. He might be their political boss, but look what he had achieved today.
He had spotted a crime going down and showed his lightning-fast reactions by identifying and analysing the threat – right there on Twitter – and then taking decisive action. Make no mistake, chief, when the minister of police issues a statement warning you, then you pay attention.
You will piss yourself with fright because I am that man! But, really, he thought, as he scrolled through the evidence of his genius on his timeline – with the Twitter handle RSA Police Minister – I deserve to be called “Minister of Tweets”.
Nobody else is on the cutting edge of digital communication like I am. And no other minister gets their picture in the media as much as I do. And I am taking painkillers for my RSI (repetitive stress injury) which proves I am always on the digital beat! The latest triumph, he knew, reflected his wonderful intelligence.
In the bath this morning, the iPhone had buzzed. It was a WhatsApp: “Chief, catch this gangster drive-by shooting. It’s hilarious!” Hilarious was not the word Mbaks would have used. He would have said it was “defeating the ends of justice”.
Some clever coloured boys in a green Golf cruise down the street, then some bangs and a man falls down. And he gets up again and then the “shooter” reveals two cardboard tubes taped together … and makes snaakse comments (as they say on the Cape Flats). Mbaks realised then the potential of an incendiary vedio (that’s the word he used in his statement).
Falsifying footage of gang-related incidents was a crime, because it would divert police resources away from investigating the real crimes. The ends of justice would be defeated. Just after issuing the press release warning, Mbaks called in his aide and told him to set up a special task team to probe these “fake” vedios.
“We must grab them by the balls!” With that mission complete, Mbaks felt worn out. A movie – that would be good. He looked through his enormous DVD collection. He came upon one he hadn’t seen before. He glanced briefly at the cover notes. District 9, it said, was set in South Africa.
“Local is lekker,” chortled Mbaks as he hit the “play” button. He dimmed the lights in his office and slid the black leather executive chair back. The images flashed up in front of him. He blinked. He rubbed his eyes. My God! Twice in one day! Don’t worry, South Africa, Mbaks will save you! “Emergency!” he screamed.
“Call out the task force! Issue a press statement! Send out a Tweet!” He grabbed his bullet-proof vest and rushed for the door.
“The aliens are here! Let’s grab them by the balls!”