Elections: The Wake Up Call

The upcoming general elections will hold our country to a standstill on the 7th of May. While a lot of people will take advantage of the statutory public holiday by lazing around, a similarly large amount will be waiting in lines to add their voice in electing the next leading party until 2019.

South Africa is currently experiencing interesting weather in terms of the political climate. The African National Congress (ANC) has ruled for two decades, and in the process has helped quell the fear that black people once had for the oppressor. They carried us into democracy with great aplomb but have since neglected their constituents with an air of complacency. There has been countless corruption charges filed against the ANC yet no visible form of remorse or repentance. Not least of these perpetrators has been our current president, Jacob Zuma, who is in contention to run for another term. His record of being able to get away with multiple corruption charges and sexual offences is nothing short of astonishing. In a land of outlaws, he would be applauded. In the past 6 months, there has been a nationwide uproar against the building of Nkandla, the president’s own residential estate that cost tax payers north of R200 million. This was followed by more siphoning of citizens’ money with the introduction of the e-tolling system. How much longer can the loyal voters of the ANC continue to stand by the party that freed them from mental slavery? It’s difficult to say as most opposing parties lack original policies and would rather opt to harp on eradicating the inefficiencies of the ANC. Considering that, historically, most voters of the ANC are black, impoverished and uneducated, it is not unlikely that they will rule again as this is still quite a large demographic of South African voters.  However, the magnitude of this particular electorate has dwindled since 1994. Thank you ANC. Registered voters are more informed and more inquisitive now. Two thirds of the South African population now live in urban areas. It is for this reason that the majority of voters are more ambivalent about voting for the ANC than ever before.

Widely considered as the next best, and current opposition party, is the Democratic Alliance (DA), run by Helen Zille. Being a resident of the Western Cape for over 21 years, it is difficult for me to argue against how they have run the province since 2009. The streets are clean, complaints are generally well handled by the party and until recently, the Western Cape has been the best performing academic province in the country for as long as I can remember. Even this year when the Western Cape came fourth in the provincial academic rankings, Helen Zille had sour grapes. Not the type of sour grapes that one would use to make wine but those that are more commonly used to generate a whine. The problem is that the Western Cape demographic is an outlier when compared to that of the rest of South Africa. The issues that have been attended to by the DA have been aiding  the middle class income earners and above. This is opposed to those living in poverty and hardship. Over the past few months there have been incidents of low income earners travelling to the Cape Town CBD, not to look for jobs, but to throw faeces in the face of the provincial ruling party. Their cause: For adequate sanitisation, land redistribution and housing. If these problems are not attended to, who do you think the neglected voters will turn towards when standing over the ballot box? The presence of the DA in informal settlements in the Western Cape can be compared to the presence of vegan tshisa nyamas in the same areas. It becomes a choice of voting for the devil that you know versus the devil that you don’t. I shudder at the thought of how attentively the DA would focus on the needs of the poorest of South Africans if given the opportunity. That said, the people are looking for viable opposition to the current rule.

Smaller parties are trying their utmost to gain votes. By “trying their utmost” I mean selling us dreams. They plan to undo all the years of corruption and general bad governance the ANC have sustained for the past decade or so. The African Christian Democratic Party (ACDP) proposed to shut down e-tolls, reduce food and petrol prices and basically stop inflation in their manifesto. Another party, the Economic Freedom Front (EFF) has come out with a borderline vigilante approach to their campaign by stating that land reform will be swift and without question under their rule. Congress of the People (COPE) founder, Mbhazima Shilowa merged with United Democratic Movement (UDM) leader, Bantu Holomisa to make an unlikely alliance aligned against the ANC. This was shortly after Agang leader, Mamphela Ramphele availed herself as the presidential candidate for the DA. This union was literally as short lived as a weekend away to Hermanus as the merger dissolved within 72 hours. Uncertainty amongst the smaller parties is too high to gather up anything larger than a negligible resistance against the reigning party. Yet they do provide eccentric avenues for the undecided to place their votes, or for those willing to pay for the dreams they are selling.

Back to the forerunners: There seems to be this misconception that the leaders of these political parties are separate to the parties that they head. Jacob Zuma and Helen Zille are voted for by their respective parties to run them, they are not isolated. The body puts the head in power. Their leadership is a direct result of the interests of those in the rest of the party. When the ANC tribe spoke, Thabo Mbeki reluctantly handed in his torch. This was solely because the party no longer wanted him as a leader. It must be noted that he was nowhere near as corrupt or uncouth as current leader Jacob Zuma. Why does the ANC keep Zuma in power? They want him there. They feel that he has the party’s best wishes at heart. This infers that the rest of the party is just as bad/good as its leader. Helen Zille conceded her position as the presidential candidate for what seemed to be a more welcoming face for black people, Mamphela Ramphele. She too was voted off the island as Zille didn’t seem ready for a long term relationship with a wealthy black lady that couldn’t attract enough donors to the same party that she left. 

What to do? Who to vote for? Voters have been placed in the imposition of having to choose to vote between the lesser of two evils. The unwarranted situation of having to decide to vote for something you’re not wholeheartedly behind is something that South African voters are not accustomed to. Those who would like to re-elect the ANC into power are most likely unaffected by, or have flourished under the in-house corruption that has run rampant at the party. These voters are probably terrified of changing power during the embryonic stages of our democracy. Some ANC loyalists just don’t know any better, or just have no inclination to learn. DA voters are likely sick and tired of ANC rule and are looking for a calculated change in government. They probably understand the trade-off between a party that runs well in the background and one that finds it difficult to exact influence over the majority of the populace. These voters are yearning for a viable opposition party, something that can ruffle a couple of feathers. I predict that our people will give the ruling party something to think about. The ANC has never been under this much fire and the voters will leave them second guessing their strategy.

Blacks Love Hate

 

I honestly believe that there is no race more racist towards black people than black people themselves. Despite Martin Luther King’s moving speech, we are the ones who judge others by the colour of their skin. Ever since black people were freed from slavery, they have been racing towards opulence, exorbitant wealth and stunting on everyone around them. Black people hate everything and anyone doing better than them, even each other, and all it does is make my people look like clowns. Don’t get me wrong, there are some races that I also despise. The 10 kilometre really gets my blood boiling.

All you need to do is take a peek into black twitter to realise that the magnitude of the meaningless ridicule, constant bashing and terrible typographical errors are taking black people so far back that it questions how much we deserve nice things like freedom, warm water and internet.

Genders

The battle of the sexes in the black community runs deep, like the well that girl came out of in ‘The Ring’…  no it’s harder to get out of… like that hole the Dark Knight struggled to escape from. Whatever pit you can think of, it’s that, but without a bottom. We have men vs women, women vs women, and men vs men. This is the flagship demon of the black people.

Black men attack black women (sometimes physically) because black women are all apparently whores until proven otherwise. Once proven otherwise, it is only a matter of time before they become whores anyway. They believe that black women have an attitude that makes them cold, soul sucking vampires, not unlike Dementors. They are also believed to only want black men with flashy cars, designer labelled clothes and the tears of unicorns as cologne.  In light of this, whenever a black man becomes successful enough to attain these trinkets, he usually marries a white woman. This stench of insecurity is so self-defeatist that it even perpetuates itself onto the social fabric of black women. And so the vicious cycle begins.

Black women live under the notion that all black men in relationships will eventually lead a life of infidelity, no matter how well you treat them. The most amorous woman, with chef-like cooking abilities stands no chance holding down the promiscuous black man. The only type of black man that exists is a promiscuous one. A black man is to be treated no different to an untrained dog, according to black women. They must be told when to stay, who they can go out with, and who their friends can be. A black man’s phone activity should always be monitored for any extra-curricular feelings, events and meetings, in lieu of actually voicing any problems that the black woman may have. Yes, I know. It’s all rather confusing, even for me.

The black man does not like his fellow black man. He is a threat to him. If he pops three bottles in the club, it is up to you to pop four. If he has three girlfriends, you have to go gather up some girlfriends of your own. Once black males are around each other, there is no other intention than to exert your testosterone and solidify your place as the alpha-male.

Black women will twerk their way into a coma if it means another black girl doesn't get whatever she wanted. They judge each other on the enormity, or lack, of mammary glands and the gluteus maximus.  Your weave has to be perfect in the face of gale force winds otherwise you will be labelled as a ‘basic bitch’. What exactly ‘basic’ means in this context escapes me, but I’m sure the knowledge of it would scare me. There are ‘bad bitches’ and ‘ratchet hoes’ which I have learned (to my despair) are exactly the same thing except the one group has more money than the other and is thus held in a higher regard by his or her peers.

Complexion

Being light-skinned is close to godliness, that is the motto.  Whether you are male or female, if you have a light complexion you are believed to be better. And by ‘better’ I mean more sexually desirable. However, if you are able to have a caramel skin tone and still manage to be ugly, you are going to Hell, no questions asked. There are, however, some unwelcome caveats to being light-skinned.

Light-skinned men are considered to be more in touch with their feminine side than their dark-skinned counterparts, whereas light-skinned women are deemed to be self-obsessed gold diggers. These are very small prices to pay to being light-skinned. Dark-skinned people are treated with disgust and ridicule. A dark-skinned person is always the leading suspect when a crime is committed, whether they have an airtight alibi or not.

What I am trying to emphasise here is the very fact that, within a single racial group, there is racism between the light and the dark. Sound familiar? Do we miss being enslaved by white people so much that we create our own racism among our own people? It all boils down to one of two things: 1) Black people have too much time on their hands or 2) Black people hate being black.

I’m going with the latter. There have been celebrities who have been known to bleach their skin to make it appear lighter in the hope of being accepted on a more universal level. We’ll give Michael Jackson the benefit of the doubt, and vitiligo, but local celebrities like Mshoza have bleached their skin to appear lighter. Even Nicki Minaj has purposefully lightened her skin to appear ‘more white’. The burgeoning business of buying weaves from Brazil and India also support my suspicions that we don’t want to be Africans.

Service

Receiving good care as a customer is about as likely to happen as a giraffe winning a game of limbo, in an ocean, made of cement. But when a black person serves another black person, the air just becomes filled with flammable attitude. Black people in the service industry lack the appreciation of haste about as much as their black patrons lack the virtue of patience.

When the age gap is very large between the parties, the hate just inexorably filters through their pores. While other black people watch and make wagers on who will be attending whose funeral, you just sit and wonder why the black service consultant doesn't treat the black customer like he would a Caucasian customer? It’s disconcerting to accept that your fellow black sisters and brothers (no Sizwe Dhlomo) won’t treat you as well as other races. This is a part of the game that we can live without.

You can’t say that you've never walked into a KFC and the full figured lady working behind the till has given a particular look of resentment that leaves you regretting that you ever entered the establishment. It’s at this moment that your pride builds and you make your order with such authority that you even describe the chicken pieces that you want and who must serve them to you. As soon as she turns around, it hits you that she will be handling your food. Your shoulders slump and with them, the chances that you will ever get anything you want. The white family behind me is greeted with so much gusto and enthusiasm, but I comfort myself with the assumption that the till lady doesn't see too many white families in the Gugulethu Square branch of KFC.

All in all, I just wish black people could uplift each other instead of fighting all the time. Bringing each other down will not aid prosperity, it will just stifle growth. If you look at other cultures and races, from white people to Jews to Indians and Muslims, they all help each other gain as much as possible. Unit trusts are opened at the age of 12 at bar mitzvahs, while beers are sold to 12 year olds in township taverns. Black people don’t even restrain each other from making terrible decisions. If someone steps on a fresh pair of my friend’s Jordan sneakers, the only amicable way to resolve it is to shoot the perpetrator. As students in the education system, we don’t help each other unless it involves stealing someone’s girlfriend. It’s just not on. We need to mature as a collective. As new as the freedom and the money is, we need to give it a chance to grow old and accustomed to us. 

Beat Your Kids, Beat Your Legacy.

Domestic violence is ubiquitous around the black community, and it took me a particularly cynical Tuesday afternoon to ponder the reasoning behind it. Most black people are raised by black parents, and most black parents use violence as a form of disciplining their children. No, I’m not talking about sending a child to his room for ‘quiet time’, or being bent over a knee to get spanked, I am talking full blown violence.

I don’t know how many times in my childhood I considered calling Childline to have my parents arrested for inflicting grievous bodily harm on me. I often disguised these feelings as anger as I was afraid of looking like a spoilt, DSTV having, decent school attending, roof over head having little bitch. I also consoled myself with the belief that there were a lot of other, less fortunate black children who had it a lot tougher than I did. This did not, however, remove the scars that I still have today, physically and mentally.

I soon accepted this as a form of punishment and took responsibility for all my actions, understanding the repercussions that would follow. Consequences often involved fetching the tool that I would soon be beaten up with, sometimes involving being tied up during the beating itself, and on the rare occasion, an all expenses trip to the emergency room after the beating. All is well that ends well, and I have grown up to be a bright young man with facial hair. So it can’t be all that bad, right?

After leaving your parents and involving yourself in a relationship with someone, your partner tends to take on a guardian type role. It is of no fault of theirs; how else would you know when to turn the geyser on, wash the dishes, record the game, not go on boys’ night out, or drink alcohol? Your parents are no longer there to tell you to perform these tasks. In so doing, you are more likely to discipline your partner in the same way your parents disciplined you. If your parents used violence as a form of discipline to raise you, I believe that you are more likely to use violence to discipline your partner. The dynamics of when you were beaten as a child has changed over the years, yet the previously abused will see no difference.  Men will physically abuse their wives partly because they know of no other method to get them to do what they want. “Talking about it” is not an option because his parents never wanted to “talk about it”.

If twitter is anything to go by, a lot of the black South African youth are still in favour of using violence to discipline their future children. Obviously these are people who were beaten by their parents and feel like they came out alright. Maybe they want to exact some kind of misguided revenge on their parents. A little bit of “the sins of the father so on and so forth” springs to mind. I just think there is more to raising your kids than using intimidatory techniques like grotesque violence and humiliation. In fact, using reasonable punishment methods (whatever those may be) could raise a more considerate and caring child. A listener, but also someone that can make sense in words as to why things are the way they are. Our children are the best way for any of us to leave a legacy, they are an extension of ourselves, and all we want is the best for them. Give them a chance to grow up in an openly loving home instead of a house they are afraid to stay in.

Red October: Must Be Nice.

On Thursday the 10^th of October I woke up to a world filled with renewed hope and vigour. Not only was it because of the imminent weekend, but also the weekly Thirsty Thursday where I can unashamedly indulge in liquor in the middle of the week and feel like I was a part of something instead of feeling guilty. However, my boisterous mood was short lived as I arrived to work and learned about Red October.

At first I thought it was some ominous reference for Libras across the world, being a Virgo I wasn’t worried. The real horror that I later scoped was that Red October was in fact a gathering of white South Africans protesting against the notion of “white genocide”. These  people believe that white people are oppressed and marginalised in their “own” country, the worst part is that they believe that white people are being singled out and that they are the only race in South Africa which experiences the horrors of crime, poor education, and not enough tomato sauce sachets from take-away restaurants. It came with very little shock that the march was led by none other than the infamous celebrity, Afrikaans singer Steve Hofmeyr. Reports say that the march later harmonised itself into a right-wing choir, yelling chants of “Hofmeyr for president!”, but surely that was just the brandy talking.

I could imagine how cute it was; Out in the sun, acquiring skin cancer in their Kaki shorts, long brown socks and black shirts. Protesters were releasing bio-degradable red balloons into the air as a sign of their involvement in Red October. I just could not believe what was going on. Have white people run out of Rhinos to shoot in their backyards? Do they honestly believe that they are getting the brunt of the bad treatment? I thought to myself that it must be so nice to be white and purposefully oppress other races for centuries than experience 19 years of democracy and then complain that you are now the ones being oppressed. I wanted to experience this oppression that white people claim to have. I mean, considering that only 1.8% of all murders in South Africa are of white people and that less than 7% of the white population is unemployed, it couldn’t be so bad. But I guess they thought I had to feel blessed with my own people killing each other over spilled drinks in taverns and our unemployment rate of over 30%. I had to be cool with that.

“What is the point?” was the next question on my mind. What did white people have to gain from all of this? That we would all miraculously excuse them from crime and hangovers? In my humble opinion, white people should be thanking their lucky stars that someone as kind as Nelson Mandela was our first democratic president. Had it been Robert Sobukhwe or someone in the mould of Robert Mugabe, white people would have been marginalised out of the country, probably with first class tickets to Australia. You would have had to have gone completely out of your way as a white person to not have gained considerably from apartheid. I presume they just want more of that easy lifestyle. Maybe they miss the “good ol’ days” when black people couldn’t just go wherever they pleased. They suddenly can’t believe that they have been walking among these savages for the past two decades.

Could it be just a way to nip oppression in the bud before it gets authentic? Granted, Black Economic Empowerment has lowered whites in the vocational pecking order, only if every other candidate is equal in compatibility for the job. It must be so sad that your mortgage was paid in full by the nineteenth century.

I’m not saying that our country is perfect, but Lord help us if our previous oppressors are feeling uneasy while everybody else does their level best to make democracy work. It really is spit on every other citizen’s face when white people march to parliament to complain that they alone suffer in this country. You might as well have protested against equality.  I fully understand that this whole campaign was initiated by a handful of white people. Most white people in South Africa seemed just as enraged as everybody else, if  not, even more so for giving their race a bad name. Although, on the Red October website, there is a petition that has been signed by over 23 000 people. 23 000 people feel that white people are oppressed and that there is a “white genocide”.

I wasn’t aware that there were this many people who felt this way. We cannot be too surprised. White people took everything away from us, now they also want oppression. 

Rise Of The Geeks

Like it or not, social media has given the unassuming kid a second chance. Those that were once coerced to be introverted have now found a new platform with which express themselves, and it’s one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen. The beauty is that it’s inside, in the mind. People are now publicising their thoughts for the world to see and everybody has the time to give a damn. Back in school, the quirky kid with the shirt tucked in a little too tightly never got a chance to put his message across freely, until recently, and in such a vociferous manner.

So here we are, the geeks are finally getting the freaks in the most unprecedented manner. But what’s the difference between the popular kids offline and the popular one’s online? The mind. Sure, we have profile pictures, display pictures and avatars, but what really gets the people going is your particular brand of perspective on... everything really. A lot of popularity in the real world is attributed to aesthetic appeal. You can’t even fault it, as Drake the philosopher says “If you ain’t got it, you ain’t got, the theory is brilliant”. This is why you can’t even be surprised that the most influential people offline are not heavily invested online, because it dilutes their presence if their smarts don’t match their appearance. In some cases, you get to see the inner workings of a troubled mind, and it belongs to who you thought was always cool, calm and collected. Sometimes you have the rare occurrence where the cool guy with street cred is also proficient with the QWERTY keyboard. However, more often than not on social media, people are attracted to a person’s intrinsic beauty rather than their outward appearance.

A lot of talk, and sometimes stigma, circles around starting relationships with people you meet online. I’m not entirely sure when meeting people became so complicated that it became judged, but you can’t help but feel connections with people that are on your wavelength. If you want to meet those people, go for it. I think it beats befriending people purely on the basis of being your friend’s friend. Online, people are a lot more open, direct and free. They no longer have to worry about anyone invading their personal space unless they invite them. People become so comfortable with each other that they overshare or become emotionally invested in the most trivial matters.

Is making friendships or any kind of relationship online any less real than making them at a house party, mall or back seat of a taxi? I certainly don’t think so. Yes, we have catfish and people who pretend to be something they’re not, but all these facades are dispelled by the first meeting.  All the nerdy, awkward children are now adored by the masses. In the marathon of life, they just got a second wind. By association, it has filtered through to the real world. The cast of Big Bang Theory is more likely to get laid than the cast of Blue Mountain State, whether they are online or not. Smart is the new beautiful, yet still in the eye of the beholder. Maybe I didn’t see this in the past thanks to my naivety and being wet behind ears, or perhaps it was never mentioned out loud or posted all over the internet, but people are less shallow than I thought. The playing fields have been levelled in a way where jocks and mean girls are now required to incorporate some level of depth in their personalities... or not, they can continue to adorn the fashionable fabrics of misters Hardy, Abercrombie and Fitch.

One distinct disadvantage that has arisen since the advent of social media is the level of judgement that has

increased at an exponential rate, as was showcased after the ellipsis in the previous paragraph. Cyber bullies have contributed to the suicides of several people that they never even met. This is where a level of discretion needs to observed. If you take everything seriously, you will have a very bad time. However, if something is repeated often enough and convincingly enough, you will subconsciously take it to heart. Either way, I’ve always thought suicide was for the emotionally bankrupt and cowardice extremists. Just please, before you make any rash decisions, look at the bigger picture.

No longer are people subjected to conduct themselves to the whims of the genetically gifted few. Creativity within well articulated prose now has a relevant place in the world. Never has it been so cool to be strange. This is the rise of the planet of the geeks. 

Town Ships

Town: verb 1. To participate in sexual intercourse without the use of protection, usually that of a condom.

Other forms: towning, townable, towntalk, towner, townist.

Eons ago, when the indigenous people of South Africa were able to freely roam the vast and abundant pastures of its land, ignorance was the greatest bliss. Strandloopers would play with the Koi-San, Xhosas would play with sticks, and Zulus would play with their foreskin. All the land was our’s, as far as the eye could see (you still had it even if you were Ray Charles to the distribution of land). During these times, towning was not an unpopular choice. It was the only means of having, and/or enjoying sex.

Skip forward to 1652 and Jan van Riebeeck, the sailing Dutchman, arrives at what would soon be called The Cape Colony. He introduced us to Bibles and mirrors, and forced upon us what his society perceived as right and not-so-right.  Interestingly enough, it seems as though we indoctrinated the Bible and mirror religion whole-heartedly, and with it, lost our blissful ignorance. Who would have thought that grown men would be taking selfies (pictures of themselves) today?

We could no longer just town anyone we wanted in the hope of them not knowing how beautiful they were or without them bringing up the moral or ethical values of casual coitus. We lost a large amount of our land and were banished to the outskirts of major cities (commonly known as townships) and Lesotho, because let’s face it, Lesotho is just a shorter way of saying Drakensburg Mountains.

In steps father Democracy in his knight and shining armour in 1994, expected to fix the injustices perpetrated in South Africa’s troubled past. President Nelson Mandela, being a symbol of reason and forgiveness, does not exact revenge on all white women and children. Instead, he promises equality for all and happily ever afters. Land reform policies follow suit, without much success. But there’s also a new kid on the block that’s been brewing for a decade or so, AIDS. And boy, it’s a killer.

Gone are the days where our forefathers could just happily town and reproduce without fear of child support payments or death. We can no longer town without consequences. South Africa now has one of the largest proportion of infected populations in the world. On top of all this, WE STILL DON’T HAVE OUR LAND BACK. I think it’s time. It has been 19 years and father Democracy is taking his own sweet time. I’m not saying we revolt against every white-owned establishment across the land. There just isn’t enough good land left for all that, and I’m not about that war life. I propose we take to the sea.

Money acquired from corrupt government tenders would raise enough money to build massive yachts. Almost like cruise ships, like the ones that have golf courses and extra-marital affairs on them. They would set anchor at every major city across South Africa, even makeshift ones in Gauteng and Bloemfontein. These yachts will be free to board by any indigenous South African citizen and will be equipped with the latest in medical technological devices. Scanners at boarding gates will detect any STDs instantaneously, in which case you are not allowed on board. Ankle bracelets will be fastened on every passenger, rendering them infertile for as long as they have it on. Milk, peanuts and bananas will be on the house while everything else will be generously subsidised.  

Cabins will have numbers. These numbers, instead of increasing in sequence, will state how many people can comfortably have sex in that cabin. Naturally there will be a lot of twos, but if patrons are feeling extra feisty they can opt for rooms numbered 3 to 8. The homosexuals will have their own wing, on top, or the bottom. Passengers will be able to disembark at any time they wish by just walking off the yacht, and handing in the ankle bracelet.

I would like to call these the new, and improved, Town Ships. No longer places of civil unrest and xenophobia, but vessels of unrestrained, yet consensual towning. Without consequences beyond that of a bit of chafing and classy walks of shame from exquisite yachts. Towning without consequences... it's beautiful, like drinking without hangovers.

Funemployment To A Degree

I graduated with a bachelor of commerce in 2011. It's called a BCom general majoring in finance. I tell you this, not because I want to gloat about my academic under-achievements, but to give you an idea of where I'm coming from.

A large majority of people are under the belief that education breeds success. This notion, though not far from the truth, does have its anomalies however. Some of the most successful people in the world never got a whiff of tertiary education. Granted, the people I speak of were too incredible, and passionate in their fields to be bogged down by the constraints of higher learning. Bill Gates and Richard Branson both dropped out of Harvard and high school, respectively. These are two highly successful and respected individuals, and various Forbes lists will re-iterate this.

Acquiring a degree shows cognitive ability and the ability to finish what you start. It shows a desire to gain technical or theoretical  knowledge in a field you are interested in, or not interested in. A degree also comes at a price; monetary and otherwise. Fresh out of high school, time is one of your greatest assets, as you have  so much of it left on this precious earth, God willing. Yet we are inclined to spend 3 to 7 in an educational institution. It almost sounds like a jail sentence. After which, you start at an entry level job in a company you only have the desire of owning. You might not even find a job in the field you studied in. During your studies, you might have changed your mind about what you want to do for the rest of your life. Before you know it, you're getting capped in front of your parents and it's all a very joyous occasion. The crippling reality is that you're not the only graduate in this world. Your matric friends that went straight to work after high school have a lot more of this valuable work experience that everyone wants. They might have even started their own companies. Maybe that degree, with your name on it, helps you sleep at night, but before NSFAS wakes you up demanding a loan repayment ask yourself this: Is this what I really want?

I completely understand if you studied what you loved, with a bursary even, and still enjoying it. You are one in a few and are very blessed. Most of us are not afforded that luxury. It's just that times change, and time is precious enough as it is. I feel as though we should be creating our own jobs instead of competing with others for the same ones. Even the satisfaction of creating your own title is greater than getting a promotion at Whatwhat & Sons. As far as I know, we are still under economic turmoil. This doesn't mean there are a lack of resources. You need to take charge of your situation and take advantage of the world's situation. Create something that was never there. Or you can just chill, it's up to you. Who knew twerk teams could be so lucrative? I have seriously considered starting a Home Wrecker's agency where I employ beautiful and charming people most likely to end marriages. Our clients will be those seeking easy divorce through adultery on their spouse's part. Payment will be a proportion of the consideration from the divorce settlement. Not sure it's legal though.

At the time of writing, I still want to pursue an honours degree in finance or travel overseas to teach foreign children English. I just don't know if I want another feather in my cap or an experience worth having.