Why I should be South Africa’s next ambassador to the US

To whom it may concern:

Perhaps not the best way to start an application letter for a post in the diplomatic corps, or anywhere in government for that matter.

There’s a good chance no-one in the civil service is concerned about anything other than getting out of the office by 3pm and not getting named by a whistleblower.

To be honest – and I think honesty is a positive attribute for a diplomat, even if it did backfire spectacularly when Ebrahim Rasool tried it – I’m not even sure who makes this kind of appointment.

I don’t even know who the foreign minister is these days. Is it still Pik Botha? Probably not.

The ANC would never allow another Botha anywhere near the reigns of power.

Mind you, there’s a Steenhuisen and a Groenewald in the Cabinet, so I guess anything’s possible.

I hope Clayson Monyela is the one who decides. I’ve liked Clayson ever since he was e.tv’s Limpopo correspondent reporting on all manner of outlandish witchcraft stories.

Our approach to international relations was spawned during the first blush of democracy.

I’d like to say it grew legs and emerged from apartheid’s primordial ooze, but it never quite made it into a fully formed coherent policy.

This is where I come in. As ambassador to our most important ally/the great Satan (delete which is not currently applicable), I will make it clear to our American friends/evil overlords exactly where I stand.

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This will mostly be behind the bar. I believe alcohol to be the best lubricant for bilateral discourse, especially if your host has a penchant for suddenly taking you roughly from behind and expelling you from his country for no good reason.

As you know, US Secretary of State Marco Rubio, whose name is a massive vowel movement all on its own, and whose father was one of the pigs who took part in the failed Bay of Pigs invasion of Cuba, posted on his go-to social media app, Grindr, that Cde Ebrahim was no longer welcome in the land of the free and home of the braindead because he was a race-baiting, Trump-hating gangster from Cape Town who drinks brandy from the bottle, braais in parking lots and has global terrorists on speed dial.

I have coloured friends who would consider it an honour to be declared persona non grata.

They would have certificates made and stencil it on the side of their Golf GTIs. Rasool gets it.

“I will wear my persona non grata as a badge of dignity,” he said after being hounded out of Washington.

Once I have the job, I will make my own Badge of Dignity.

I won’t share my ideas right now because, as you know, our government is a hotbed of thieves and mercenaries and they will purloin my designs and then everyone will be wearing Badges of Dignity and the effect will be diluted.

When I present my credentials to Donald Trump or Elon Musk, depending on who is in charge on the day, I will wear my Chinese-made Death to America shirt.

I hear the president has a good sense of humour and I’m sure he will appreciate the irony. Satire. Whatever.

My first act as South Africa’s new ambassador to the USA will be to get rid of the bugs in my office.

I don’t mean the CIA’s listening devices. They didn’t need those with my predecessor because he’d freely speak his mind even if nobody asked.

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I’m talking about bed bugs. With all the political shenanigans going on, Washington is infested with the critters.

The state department’s Tammy Bruce said our man’s use of the words “Trump” and “white supremacy” in the same sentence were “unacceptable to the United States, not just to the president, but to every American”, including the red-blooded patriots who serve in the Ku Klux Klan.

With me as ambassador, I will mend these broken bridges. I will explain to Trump, through a series of simple sketches and basic animated videos, that South Africa and America have much in common.

Although we are not an oligarchy, mired as we are for the moment in a kakistocracy, we do share a dream that excludes the poor and the downtrodden.

By the way, I see that Helen Zille is punting Tony Leon for the position that is rightfully mine.

I strongly suggest you do not hire this man. He was our ambassador in South America for three years and may well have developed a vicious cocaine habit that could have rotted his brain away, causing him to support Israel rather than Palestine.

Speaking of which, given Trump’s fondness for amphetamines and Musk’s predilection for horse tranquilisers, it’s advisable that I be given unlimited access to powerful drugs.

It is unlikely that I will survive without them. Perhaps something from the benzodiazepine family.

And while I am prepared to lie, cheat and steal to earn the Trump administration’s respect for our country, I must warn you against trying to recall me.

If you do, I will claim to be an Afrikaner who has been killed several times in the genocide and the publicity will not be good.

Call me. I can leave in 24 hours.

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