Salary earners are forever dreaming of hitting on the next best thing to swell the coffers to overflowing and living a life of luxury.
But thoughts of entrepreneurial brilliance and prosperity are mostly limited to pleasant fantasies going nowhere.
Daydreaming with beer in hand is undemanding, but actually turning thoughts to action, doing the painstaking hard yards of research, beg, steal or borrow scarce funding and working 24/7 to make the idea work while fighting off hunger, is simply too challenging for most of us.
So we resort to building castles in the “comfort” zone while praying for payday to hurry up.
Although of a certain age, I’m pleased to announce my light bulb moment has finally arrived, sparked by the recent international agri summit held here in Ballito.
The experts’ theme of farming for the future resonated with me, more specifically relating to my future. Farming!
My total lack of knowledge about things agricultural notwithstanding, I allowed my brilliant mind free flow.
By the second double tot of Captain Morgan, my entrepreneurial spirit suddenly became unlocked and soared
Not for me the burdensome trials of cattle, pig, sheep or produce farming with all the pestilence about.
The secret I realised is to keep it simple – dagga cultivation, a sure-bet profitable business no doubt.
I mean, how difficult can it be? Spread some seeds around and sit on the stoep partaking in sundowners while waiting for the weed to mushroom like wildfire. My bank manager will be informed of my pending status as super client.
To keep it decent, we’ll call it hemp farming (although as an Afrikaner boy, it reminds me too much of a shirt). Marijuana, cannabis, ganja or hashish also have negative connotations I suppose, although I quite like the ring of hashish.
It stirs up visions of Indian sitars gently twanging in the background while in a state of euphoric, smoky meditation.
But I still lean towards dagga, such a lekker, robust Safrican word. By the way, did you know, Google tells us, that the term dates back to the 1660s, derived from the word “dacha” used to describe the plant in the Khoekoe language.
Khoekoe language? Yes, spoken by some Khoisan apparently.
I just don’t want readers to get the wrong impression.
My enterprise won’t be about acres of hidden green-leafed fields in inaccessible valleys to avoid detection by the cops and a fleet of bakkies stacked with black bags racing through the night to secret distribution points.
Too many drones and roadblocks are in play.
My intention is purely philanthropic. Hemp’s health benefits are considerable. Its oil has been used as both food and medicine in China for at least 3 000 years. Can a zillion Chinese be wrong?
Ja well, OK, there is the matter of rhino horn being a super pecker perker and such, but that aside.
My crops will strictly be about noble outcomes. Being an ethical agronomist with surplus stock in the shed, I will also practice what I preach.
My few curative tokes on the stoep every evening will purely serve to supplement vital vitamins, minerals and free radicals the weed offers. And with a double dose of Captain Morgan’s super medicinal chest, I will be Mr Health personified – and free of mind to finally solve the world’s problems.
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