Short and not so sweet. For ANC we should substitute Labour in UK with a large spice of SNP.
Having watched and participated in African Affairs for over
half a century, I find it rather disconcerting that I now have to listen to the
most vitriolic assault on rational thought since I was born. As we approach a new general Election, the
only thing that stands out is that not a single prospective Member of
Parliament appears to have an answer to anything. They are nearly all tarred with Class, Race
or Political ideology. Like religion,
that ought to be treated with suspicion and immediately scrutinised over content,
viability, accuracy and just plain Common Sense.
To illuminate, I have a young female friend who is
voluntarily going to Zambia to “teach sexual transmitted disease avoidance” to
the Native Zambians. She is going to a
country where it is said that over 60% of the population had Aids or Aids
related conditions. Her charity is
admirable but extremely naïve. At this
point I will not repeat experiences with the Himba in Northern Namibia because
readers can review that for themselves on these blogs. So let me relate a story
that encapsulates all my angst’s and knowledge of human nature and desires.
In the late 70’s I was resident in Victoria Falls, held a
position of influence in a minor capacity, but was privy to everything that
went on through ‘the job’! Even though
we were in the middle of a very nasty terrorist war, tourist still migrated to
this Wonderful Oasis, for short breaks, to visit the casinos and the magnificent
Falls.
One extremely attractive air hostess, an employee of a major
US airline arrived in our Haven. We became
friends. Bragging rights I can hear you
all say. Not that she had any sexual
interests in me. She was tall, great body and face that legend recalls could launch
a thousand ships. This extremely
attractive White American was in the Falls for one thing and one thing only,
she wanted to FUCK BLACK. Sorry if the
truth offends but that problem is yours and not mine. I’m only relating factual history.
For the three nights she was in the Falls she accomplished
her mission. On the last day I drove
her back to Victoria Fall Airport and saw her onto the Viscount. As discreetly as possible I handed an
envelope to the senior Hostess on the flight.
It was a small community and it was impossible not to get to know
everyone who regularly sojourned into this tiny hamlet. Needless to say I knew all the crews as they
were either related to serving soldiers or came under my jurisdiction for safe
accommodation when they had an overnight stay.
I asked that they handed hand the envelope over when our visitor was making
her connection at Rand Airport, Johannesburg.
Inside I had placed a copy of the medical history of her recent
partner, a large handsome Batonga Tribesman she had been pleasuring those past
few nights. I had access to his medical
history because he was one of my scouts.
Before I get inundated with the private rights of the medical records of
the individual, the health rights of the partner maybe considered. I do not subscribe to the near hysterical
demands for the absolute secrecy of those carrying a disease from a population
where that condition is/was endemic and a precursor to the deadly Aids pandemic. The Big Boy had incurable syphilis. I had actually watched as a Medic drained his
glands of the vile, rancid puss and held it under his nose. The medical team had
tried to teach him, to educate him in the most rudimentary fashion imaginable
to what his habits resulted in. It was
an exercise in absolute futility.
It was like watching the flood waters of the might Zambezi flow
over Victoria Falls where the ancient rocks made no barrier to the waters at
all. Sexual education makes no difference to a certain type of person whether
they are Black, White or The Tangerine sexual deviant. Moderation and control means nothing otherwise
wise and powerful people, mainly men, would not be getting themselves into
situations where they have to satisfy their desires with children, goats, men’s
bottoms or a plastic dummy. Addiction,
whether it is alcohol, gambling or smoking is a disease that ought to be
controlled, like all diseases, and not treated as a socially acceptable excess.
From the Batonga I witnessed and learned how the habitual
use of dagga – not mine, theirs - affected an entire people. When I first arrived I did not know of my fighting
soldiers resentments. They, being Ndebele and from fighting warrior stock, had been the Rulers of the areas because of their ferocity in battle, and
the Batonga were not. The administrators
permitted them by law, them being the Batonga, to cultivate and grow their own dagga -
marijuana. It produced a paranoid almost
schizophrenic race/tribe that was not fit for the 20th Century. They were, sadly to say, ideally
suited for a life in the heroin dens and dives of every backstreet in every
city around the world. So please do not
attack me with the virtuous praise for this insidious weed or the habitual abuser.
What generations of educationalists, politicians and know-alls
ignore is that culture and history dictates most of people’s attitudes. We are seeing this destroyed today in the
West. Voices reasoning with others from
knowledge are being silenced on the executioner’s block of Political
Correctness. Cannot people understand
that those from other cultures, their cultures are supreme and will remain supreme
whether it has 5th century values with all their inherent levels of reason or otherwise? The Northern
Cultures mean nothing to others except for where it is and the riches it
provides. In the 13 century the Mongols
enriched themselves at the cost to the existing civilisations. Their dominance lasted but a few decades and the legacy is difficult to find. The West will loose its predominance because
Western Politicians know everything but understand nothing! I fear for my young friend but will not
divert her as she has to be able to make judgments for herself and hopefully for
her future children.
