“Make Fourways Great (Again?)!”

Two-by-two, up-and-down Witkoppen Road, election posters were raised on the street light poles. “Working Traffic Lights Now!” read one. “An end to potholes!” read another. “Better enforced taxis!”

Zethu had been sent by her dad to put up his campaign posters. Following the collapse of the Johannesburg city council and the balkanisation of the metro, Tom was now running for a seat to represent Douglasdale at the Fourways Senate. Before the city crisis, being seen putting up political posters would’ve been very embarrassing for this 17 year old. But now the right politics was fashionable.

“I hope you put them nice and high for everyone to see”, Tom said to Zethu after she arrived back at home.

“High enough for all to see”, she said with rolling eyes and air-quote hands.

“I’m going to finish my speech for the big debate. If anyone comes looking for me, I’m not here”, he said walking off to his home office.

“I hope you’re not gonna make promises you can’t keep. Remember I still have a reputation to uphold here”, Zethu said.

“That’s the mistake my girl”, he said turning back to her intently. “It’s not promises for me to keep. It’s promises and responsibilities for us all to uphold!”

He started walking around the room with his stomach in, chest out and shoulders broadened, talking to the walls as if re-enacting his high school theatre days.

“We have been fed a diet of my right this and my right that, and do you know where we have ended up as a result of this?” he asked rhetorically.

“In Fourways?” she sheepishly answered anyway.

“No, in a place where nobody wants to take” he turns around and stares her in the eye, with a dramatic pause for effect, whispering “res-pons-i-bi-li-ty!”

With her dad still staring at her, Zethu turned her eyes to the side of him to break the awkward impasse.

“Here in Fourways, we could be great!” he continued towards the walls. “We could be better than all the other territories in this place of gold!”

He paused. His eyes raced around the floor, propelled by the spinning cogs processing in his mind.

“I think I’ve got it! Make Fourways Great! That’s the anchor to the speech!”

Debate day had finally arrived. Attendants started gathering at Norscot Manor. Chairs had been laid out in the tea garden. The ritualistic Fourwaysian greeting was humming in the car park.

“Hey, how’s it been.”

“Ey, busy hey”.

“Ya, I know what you mean bud”.

Tom sat in a toilet cubicle, reciting his speech in his head. And calming his nerves. And avoiding Rufaro, who was running for the same seat. They used to work together, until Rufaro was promoted and Tom couldn’t stand the thought of his performance reviews being done by someone half his age. So Tom left, and started a not-so-successful consultancy, to successfully keep his ego intact.

“Ey, I’m not too sure about these candidates”, he heard someone saying from outside the cubicle. “Ya hey, this seems like a personal thing we are all being dragged into” another replied. “Isn’t that the whole of politics?”, they both laughed.

His confidence further shaken, Tom waited for them to leave the bathroom. He got out of the cubicle and washed his face at the sink. He stared in the mirror, broadened his shoulders, sucked in his stomach, and put out his chest. After a deep breath, he went to the crowds.

“Ladies and gentlemen”, the announcer started. “Debate day has finally arrived, and we have Rufaro Moyo on my left, and Tom Jonas on my right”. They both stood up and waved to the crowds. “Tom, you’re going to start us off with your opening remarks.” Tom got up from his chair and walked up to the podium. He looked around the crowd, and locked eyes with Zethu to give him solace. She was sitting next to that boy from school whose opinions generally irritated him.

“Ladies and gentlemen of Fourways”, Tom started. “We start at this historic moment of our very first ever local election. With years and years of misrule and neglect, we now have a chance to make Fourways great again!”

There were loud cheers from the crowd. His confidence started building. He started walking from the stand to engage the crowd.

“This community was built by people who worked hard to make it what it is!” Nods of agreement from the older in the crowd lifted his soul.

“Whether you were a plumber or a banker, there was a place for you here. And we worked together to build up our communities, and to put in parks, and to make this place the in-demand place it is today! With that same spirit, we build on its glory and make the Fourways of tomorrow!”

Rufaro put up his hand. Tom glanced at the announcer to see if that was ok. The announcer signalled for Rufaro to speak.

“I hear this pie in the sky vision of everyone living here, but then what happens to our property prices?”

“Property prices!?” Tom exclaimed. “Our sons and daughters aren’t able to get jobs and you’re worried about property prices!? We can bring industries nearby so that our children can have a future!”

“Bra, I don’t want to work in a factory. I’m gonna be famous, and not just TikTok famous” Zethu’s friend said in the crowd. Tom couldn’t hear what he said but could see those around him laughing, and Zethu hiding her face in embarrassment.

“To make us great, we need to move from passive beneficiaries to active citizens, and there is a place for all of us to play our parts!” Tom tried to regain their attention.

“What are you talking about!?” Rufaro said as he stood up. “Everyone wants to live here! We are already great.”

The younger ones in the crowd cheered loudly.

Tom then lost his composure. “You don’t know what it took to get us here!” he shouted at Rufaro.

“It’s our time to shine now sir.” Rufaro replied while laughing. “Thanks for bringing us here. We’ll take it from here.”

The older in the crowd were saddened by the loss of control. The younger in the crowd were laughing and jeering. Tom watched Zethu stand up and run out the gardens. And to keep the last shred of dignity he had remaining, Tom walked through the crowd, out of the gardens and into his car.

After a long drive, he went back home. He found Zethu slouched on the couch scrolling through her phone.

“I told you not to embarrass me” she said without looking at him. “What do you have to say for yourself?”

He had the weight of betrayal hanging on his shoulder. But it was his daughter, and he knew that she was oblivious to it. He looked at her, and muttered “I didn’t know that was my responsibility”, and walked away.