Posted by: Pumelela Nqelenga on May 17, 2011
The Democratic Alliance is spending their last cents of their election campaign on airtime to convince citizens to vote for them.
This made me think a lot about the digital devices and politics but my thoughts where a bit more imaginative than usual.
So go along with me here.
All of a sudden they realise that their jubilation should also be felt by their family and friends at home.
So they take their cellphones while shouting “we love you ZUMA!” and go online to their social networks.
While they are busy clicking their messages, their phones suddenly blank out only to tell them they have a new message.
With puzzled faces and silence starting to spread across the stadium they all read the message that says:
18 May will be historic of all DA supporters go and vote. WE can win Joburg. So vote DA! Your vote can win it! Helen Zille
Each comrade looks at each other with no words to explain this bizarre incident.
At last after a minute of blank stares, one comrade shouts out; “WHERE IS MY SMS FROM MSHOLOZI?” and then the whole stadium starts chanting ‘where is my sms, msholozi’ for the next 20 minutes.
Finally they are drowned out by the newly made remix of “Mtshini Wam” and all goes back to normal.
I told you, my imagination went wild when these smses where being sent to my friends and not me.
So I thought I should give you a taste of how I imagine a sms from Jacob Zuma would change the way we view politics.
Imagine sitting in a cafe in France sipping the most delicious wine, absorbing the beautiful scenery, taking a picture and sending via twitter to your mother.
Your friends arrive from work. They start chatting in their French accents and then your phone buzzes on top of the antique table next to your croissant (that you promised you would buy since it was the French food you could pronounce to the waiter).
You smile because you have been waiting for this moment to say to your foreign friends, “Excuse me but I have to reply to this, it is the President of South Africa informing me about the crime situation at my home town”.
You leave them with their puzzled looks and after awhile of clicking on your phone you come back only to say “sorry I was tweeting my concerns to my ward councillor and had to reply on the president’s wall about what they should do nationally about the problem.
Anyways where were we?”
Imagine sitting on the wooden benches at your nearest tavern with Letta Mbulu’s voices complimenting the atmosphere created by you and your friends with an ice cold beverages at your side.
You start enjoying the company of people whom you’ve known for a long time and continue the ritual of finishing each other’s sentences.
Your close friend starts talking about the topic you all debated about last week Friday at someone else’s braai.
At this time all of you are all now unconsciously tapping your feet to Bra Hugh’s chanting of “Thanayi”.
While you are busy arguing you soon hear the static sound from the DJ’s sound system and like a Gossip Girl moment, the whole tavern starts buzzing with messaging sounds.
You take your phone and realise that it is JZ briefing you about the latest bill in parliament.
You quickly go to a Mxit chat room service that your ward councillor has set up.
You soon see what people are saying in your own community and what answers your ward councillor is giving.
You quickly type, “Hw is it relvnt 2 me & wat cn I do?” you get your answer and then leave the chat room to join your friends.
The gang has done the same with different social networks and you all simultaneously shout; “Mara the President and his timing!” and soon the debate becomes a discussion on the new bill.
I might have felt strangely left out with no politician sending me a sms but I suppose Helen Zille and Jacob Zuma do not really understand my situation but my ward councillor should.
So can someone in the Makana Municipality sms me about poor roads, the violent crimes and the disgusting bucket system in my community?