Right, let’s get back to the Name Changes game and the second reason as to why we do so: SERVICE DELIVERY.
This, son, is a multifaceted issue which needs to be navigated with a very good spokesperson by your side. preferably someone as thick-skinned and ignorant as Mr F Shivambu. Why? Because eventually someone’s “gonna get it in the neck” and it sure as … aint going to be me.
Now, let me get straight to the point:
Spending money on service delivery is dangerous!
Because it makes “them” used to a certain type of lifestyle, like enclosed flush toilets (See Democratic Alliance, Western Cape), running water and municipal waste collection. And once they are used to a certain lifestyle, as it were, they want a better one than the one they already have. And so on and so on, with the end result being that some idiot wants to move into the palace.
Which, obviously, is unacceptable!
Look! Look how dirty. First I have to poo in the bushes, then use the leaves to wipe. Ag sies man!
In any event I have a more important lifestyle to maintain and a much more expensive one at that, to be contributing tax payers money to the comfort of others.
That said, there is one very important exception to with holding service delivery and that, my son, is around election time. When touting for votes before elections (a completely unnecessary process in my case), it is useful to promise service delivery and then to very partially deliver on these promises. In other words, dig a few holes for latrines, mark out borders for housing and the such like. And once the elections are over, TADAAAA! all work can halt due to a “lack of funds from the community”. Works like a charm every time. Gets everybody in the same boat, as it were.
An added benefit of these silly promises is that you can put the jobs out to tender and have family members “win”. Ah yes, the tax payer has deep, deep pockets to pay for this frivolity. (If you know what I mean).
Lastly, on the issue of service delivery or the lack thereof, is that at some stage, it leads to protests, led by colonial rabble rousers. And this gives rise to?
An opportunity to flex one’s muscles in the form of a police action. Enter stage left, Mr Sebenza Whataboy Ditlopo (Lovely man).
That is all.