I’m not usually up to speed this early in the morning, especially not at work, but I got to bed early last night and the boss isn’t here today, or so I thought. “ Robert”, how he gets away with that accent, I just don’t know. “yes inspector! Thought you would be out for the day?” I chirp confidently. “youz would like that very much soz you can dig in my fings hey?” “Would never dream of it sir” because I did that two weeks into the job. “Was just wondering sir…” he cuts me off “I has a very important job for you today laaitie” no doubt the cleaner can do it. “youz know the room we put da riot gear in…” “We have riot gear?” “Ha ha, not yet, but as soon as you cleans the old toilets out, we will also have a place to put them, you are going to meet a whole new range of orgasm today.” “you probably mean organisms sir” “sis man, we can’t use words like that boy, the community will hear you.” What a wanker “yes sir, no sir, sorry sir.” “So get to it, and don’t take all day.” “No sir, may I use your nose as a broom sir?” “What did you say?” “The room sir, can I hose down the room?” to loud I think “yes man, but be fast.”

The inspector is a funny sort of person, he has been in the police for ever and the new rules never got through to him for some reason. He is a traditionalist Afrikaner and is quite set in his ways. He has a great moustache that gave me the impression, the first time I saw it, of a magician doing the nail in the nose trick, with a broom handle. He is a fair, though paranoid man and seeing that he hasn’t come to terms with modern day policing, is probably the best candidate to head up this small township police station seeing that we are only ten members.

I am Sergeant Robert Dan Anger or as I like to think of myself…

BOBBY DANGER: RURAL POLICE.

I feel no confidence in attempting my given challenge, as I’m sure ‘they’ will be watching. Yes, the rats. Or to drive it home… “THE RATS” creepy music in the background included. You see, this is no place for policemen, or anyone not sufficiently armed. The three most dangerous things in this township are, in no particular order, rats, chickens and donkeys. The water comes in a close fourth. The rats here carry automatic rifles and move about like trained commandos. I once watched a rat run under the roof at full speed, bracing it self between the wall and roof beam, with nothing but a seven foot drop beneath it. I actually sprayed it with pepper spray, and you know what it did? It welcomed the fiery juice with a gapping mouth. The chickens are even worse. The other day I was patrolling, only to stop for the foul creature to, of all things, cross the road. And what did I see dangling from the bird’s mouth? One of Rambo’s rats. True story. The donkeys I can’t even think about. That is a whole other story.

So, being the brave and duty driven individual that I am, I check the room for rats and donkeys, give the all clear and slip the cleaning staff a twenty to finish the job. So before you can say “ where did he go?” I am out of there for a drive, a smoke and some free time. Hey, it’s a tough job, but someone else can always do it.

Before I start, a few words.

LOCATION: Black settlements outside towns introduced by the apartheid government. The name is still being used and is often referred to as 'kasi'

KGOSHI: the tribal king to the area, that is still used. They have a direct link to government.

INDUNA: the tribal chief to a village. He is the direct link to the Kgoshi.

SANGOMA: a traditional healer that find their roots in ancestral tradition.

INYANGA: very much the same as sangomas but are usually associated with magic.

SHABEEN: an illegal or unlicensed drinking place. The name is of an Irish origin.

K.B: this is the local name for traditional beer, brewed from Sorgum. I enquired from one of the locals what K.B stands for and he informed me it stands for "kaffir* beer"

TAXI: this is nothing like the New York or London variety. This is actually a mass transport system that makes use of mini busses.

SPAZA: these are small home based tuck shops that sells mostly bread cigarettes and sweets.

* KAFFIR: this is an apartheid era word of a derogatory nature, and you could actually land in jail for using it in its insulting form. It seems to be used as a joke among locals in some situations.




I work in deepest darkest Africa. In a village that is part of a location, outside a town in the Limpopo province, a mere 300km north of the bustling metropolis of Johannesburg, South Africa.

The location is called Mahwelereng. This is a rich, vibrant town, that plays home to a predominant black community. It is also the heart of the surrounding rural, tribal villages that are ruled over by the Kgoshi. Mahwelereng as a town is fairly urbanised and was at one time home to a then Glorious, now abandoned Hotel, which I could only imagine, played host to swinging 40's styled parties. But that is a whole different blog on its own.

Now Tshamahanzi on the other hand....

...Rich and vibrant are words you could use to describe it, but only if you are the kind of person who uses the word cheese to describe the moon and flat a word for the world. You see, Tshamahanzi was built on the side of hill in the middle of the bush, and as legend has it, it was done in quite a hurry. Apparently,and this is just rumoured, a few years ago ( between 30 and 60 years ago ) the people of Moshate village, home to the throne, went to the Kgoshi and complained about the Tsonga/Shangane people, who at that time lived there. The Moshate people was mostly BaSotho and BaPedi and they were not happy with the Shangane culture of traditional "magic" and there Sangomas and Inyangas. So to halt the threat of violence, the Kgoshi arranged for a place for the Shangane people, in the distant mountains. The place now known as Tshamahanzi.

Tshamahanzi as a village, is governed under three Indunas. The village has one clinic and six schools, both primary and secondary. Even though this is such a poor community, there are a generous amount of taverns and shabeens, as drinking seems to be a favourable past time. You can buy your pint of "K.B" at most of them.

Transportation consist mostly of taxis and donkey carts. There are, the employed and richer individuals, who own cars but not that many, as this is a largely unemployed community.

Infra structure are on the rise. As all homes have access to electricity even though electric cables are sometimes stolen for the sale of copper. Some houses now have direct water access though many households still depend on the good old wheelbarrow and water drums at the communal taps. The main road that runs around Tshamahanzi, has only recently been upgraded to tarmac. Gravel roads, often rocky, are still being used. The one thing this rural village still lacks is a working sewerage system. Outside Pit toilets are still being used even though it poses a health risk.

Tshamahanzi is home not only to the shangane, but to a few ethnic groups. Legal as well as illegal foreigners make there homes here, including Zimbabwean, Nigerian, Somalian and Indian nationals. The latter two groups mostly own or manage the few larger shops in Tshamahanzi, though you will find plenty of spazas owned by the locals. These shops are highly successful as the people don't always have the means to travel the twenty odd kilometres to civilisation. These shops stock everything, from everyday groceries to building supplies and equipment. Livestock is found in the form of donkeys, cattle and goats and it shouldn't be strange to find any of them moving freely on the streets. Often you find corn crops growing in back yards as Many of the locals are substance farmers. It is usually cheaper to grow your own then to buy maize meal.

I come to work everyday and sit in my little caravan to listen to the problems of these people. It is mostly serious but often there are the silly ones. Their issues are sometimes more important to them, than I would think. But I have learned to be patient with them even after communication has broken down, we still find a way to a solution.

When you think of September 11th, you usually think of New York, Washington, Pennsylvania, all major venues of events. Or, you think of air crashes, monumentious buildings being attacked, the Pentagon, deaths in large numbers, America under attack, emergency workers
and history changing events.

... I have not kidnapped him, but the word liberation comes to mind. I have saved him from the township he lives in. And I have moved him to my middle class income home.

Here he can enjoy a balanced, nutritious diet that consists of meats, vegetables, various starches and the occasional dessert. Compared to what he is use to, maize meal porridge and tinned fish or beef on very special occasions, I am sure he is pleased.

I have also shown him how the Satellite television work, to keep him company, as I am seldom there to have a conversation. I am sure its much better than sitting beside the fire night after night listening to his elders drone on about the village and the neighbour, who's goat got stolen, such a fuss over a silly goat. the thing was unhygienic and probably wasn't worth much.

I have given Patience all the creature comforts that I never really appreciated much. I would like to think he does, as when I took him from his two room shanty home, which he shared with his mother, grand mother and five younger siblings,he seemed to have enjoyed that, the little that he had. And I'm sure that they are relieved form having one less stomach to feed. That government grant is worth only so much.

The reason I took him was because It was not right for him to stay in that rural village. The place had only dirt roads which was barely in any conditions for the donkey drawn carts that used them. Also they did have running water, even though it meant that he had to do the running, with a wheelbarrow to the communal tap about two kilometers from his house, at least he was fit as he did this twice daily. Pit toilets was at the order of the day as the form of ablution. He also just recently got electricity at home, though it doesn't work, as the copper cable has been stolen again.

The thing I don't understand is that he is not happy here. He is appreciative of what I do for him, but not truly happy. We have everything we can want. Gadgets, entertainment, luxuries... what else can we need? Sure I haven't seen my parents in forever, I have been busy. And Any day now my brother will speak to me again.

I just wish That I could see that happiness on Patience's face again. The smile and love he had in his eyes that night I saw him at his house by the fire.

I have just returned from the moon where I had dinner at a lovely restaurant. the food was really good, though the atmosphere sucked. So I'm back at home and its midnight. I flip through the channels for a bit of late night viewing, and I get to MNET Action which is showing an adult film.

My reason for this is really pure, let me assure you, and the reason being? I'm working on a novel see, and its falling into place quite nicely. i have a few lead characters, some inter winding plots and even a surprise ending, and if that's not enough, i even have a prequel. (chapters will become available here as soon as I feel I'm getting somewhere.)

So now your thinking its one of those raunchy novels, well no, it will be a fact based, adventure thriller. and the reason for the smut TV you ask. Simple, and also the premise for this post. Story line. I have recently discovered that porn sometimes, have fairly good stories. Jip some poor creative writing student is trying to get exposure (bad wording?) so he can one day get published, and the perverted director sweeps down, rip the script apart and fill it with bad acting, incredibly unbelievable scenes and nookie. the writer isn't worried, he has all ready been paid, so what the hey.

I mean, the other evening there was this story about some archaeological dig that was taking place on two different continents. The story line would have been convincing if it wasn't for the one girl who decided to walk around the desert dig site with nothing on. Even though I myself have never been on a dig site before, I am sure that this is not standard practice. The other moment that drew my concern, was the fact that the girls-only group, digging in what I assumed was an Amazonian Rain Forest, Had a local female (loin cloths and tribal jewelery) as a messenger, not that strange you say, well, she to was topless, and probably spoke better English than any other character. OK so the script was weak, but the story line had potential.

The fact is, fast forward the fornication and try to follow the story, and you will find that with some work, these stories can actually be winners, who knows, maybe it has already happened.

DISCLAIMER: I DO NEITHER APPROVE OF NOR RECOMMEND WATCHING PORNOGRAPHIC MEDIA. SPATULAS BELONG IN THE KITCHEN, LEATHER BELONG ON COWS, AND MIDGETS SHOULDN'T BE ASSOCIATED WITH EITHER.