“Oorlog! Oorlog!”
He took up his position at the Cedar – Wiktoppen intersection. Shield in one hand. Spear pointing North in the other.
“From the Magalies mountains, they are coming! Get ready to fight!”
For the past two weeks, Siener van Rensburg had been trying to warn whoever would listen about the impending doom. He had seen visions of soldiers, coming down the Magalies mountain ranges, storming towards Johannesburg.
“The Uitlanders from the Kaap are trying again! Get ready to fight!”
It was the morning rush hour traffic, but nobody stopped to listen. Each day, his pronouncements would get more animated. On Monday, he brought drums that he started beating to signal the start of war. On Tuesday, he brought a ram’s horn which he blew. And blew. And blew. On Wednesday, he enacted a battle, using his spear and shield against the traffic light pole. And now on Thursday, he’s looking to try something new.
“Ey grootman, what’s this thing you’ve been saying this whole week”. Someone finally gave him attention. James normally stood near the traffic lights, waiting for them to magically go out, so that he was ready to direct traffic.
“Who is asking?”, the Siener shot back.
“James Tshabalala. Who are you? This is my intersection. And you didn’t get my permission to do this nonsense you’re doing.”
The Siener jumped off the drinks crate he was standing on and looked James intently in the eyes. He whispered: “They are coming again! They want to take over the government! They want to make war!”
“Who is coming again? Ey, uyahlanya”.
“The Cape Government!”, he shot in a hoarse shout.
“Taking over what? We vote here grootman.” James replied.
“Vote!? They own all the shops. They’re buying all the shopping centres. Now they want the government too!”
“Mara maybe they’re going to make it nice. You can see these people here are just eating the money. We also want nice things”, James smiled.
“The propaganda of the Reform Committee has hit you too!” Siener turned his back towards James, then turned back at him, staring intently at him. “You don’t understand what you are saying”.
“You think these rich people are going to listen to you from here? Closed windows, closed ears. They all think you’re mad”, James said.
“Do you have a better plan Mr Clever?” the Siener said, climbing back onto his crate.
“Come with me. This thing is wasting your time”.
They walked past Fourways mall, across Winne Nicol, towards the food trailers along the road. “Wait for me here”, James motioned to the Siener.
James went to 2 of the food trailers and started talking with the people inside them. They were laughing, and this was irritating the Siener. James then walked back with the 2 food sellers.
“These are the people you have to convince. They’ll get the message out to the most people.”
“How!?”, Siener asked. “Do you just want to waste my time!? I need to get onto radio and TV and the internet.”. He started walking back down the road to his platform.
“Ey bra. Which radio station will talk to someone like you? Also, only news about yesterday is on the radio.”
The Siener stopped. He looked down for a few moments. He then turned back. “Ok, what’s your plan?”
“Most of the people who work in most of these houses and shops all around here come by these trailers.”
The Siener was now engaged.
“You tell them”, James said. “Then they tell their customers buying food here; their customers tell others on the walk to work; they all tell the people they work for. By the weekend, everyone is talking about this thing.”
“But… how do I know I can trust these guys?” the Siener asked. “The Uitlanders have spies everywhere.”
James laughed. “Your uitlanders have no time for these guys. They think it’s too expensive to control them.”
“Ok, I’m in”, the Siener said as he walked towards the trailers. “So here’s what’s happening. The Cape Government wants to control this land. They say their economic interests here justify it. But even they are just puppets for foreign governments who want to control it. They are too blind and power hungry to see it. So they first controlled all the food through the shops. All the money people pay for food here ends up in the Cape and sponsors their war effort. Now they want to buy the land, so that we all end up as peasants.”
“Wait. What is your point. This story is too long”, said Funeka from one of the food trailers.
“People must start buying from local shops only. We just need to convince them of that”, the Siener said.
Funeka laughed. “We are the only local shops left. And these people in their nice cars aren’t going to buy from us”.
Slowly, a crowd started gathering around them. More people started listening. The Siener finally had an audience.
“If we come together, we can overcome! Just like it was done in 1896, it can be done today!” he tried encouraging.
There were mumbles from the crowd. Everyone trying to figure out whether to take him seriously, or ignore him. A lady in a car slowed down near them. She looked around suspiciously, trying to figure out what the commotion was about. She then picked up her phone and started sending messages.
“Everyone listen”, Funeka started. “We have a chance to do something big here. Wena Sipho, you’re delivering for that app, but you can deliver for us. Wena Thabisa, on your walk to work, you can collect orders people on your route. Same with you Velenkosi. Same with you Rita. From here, we will then start to…”
Suddenly, 8 metro police cars surrounded them, blaring their sirens. Black BMW X5s also arrived, parking next to them. It was the provincial government. Flagged with the metro government. The mayor stepped out of the car with a megaphone.
“It is Operation Tlosa Matlakala here. You have no permits to be here. You must leave immediately, and never come back!” the mayor shouted.
Behind the mayor were the new owners of the shopping centre they were standing in front of. They started putting red tape around to stop people from entering the area.
“Traitors!” the Siener shouted. He ran towards the mayor with his spear stretched out. One of the mayor’s bodyguards ran towards him from the side and tackled him. “Not today Oupa.”
“You don’t understand what you are doing”, the Siener said while trying to resist. A metro policeman handcuffed the Siener and pulled him towards the police van. A second one held onto him to lift him up into the van. They eventually threw him into the back and locked the door. The crowd had scattered. The trailers had started packing up. One vendor had her hands on her head in disbelief.
And from the back of the police van, the Siener kept shouting at them, “You don’t understand what you are doing!”