By Phakamisa Mayaba
With the traffic cops and clergy briefed, and social media posts uploaded, some Colesberg residents are looking forward to partying up a storm come 7 February, courtesy of the ANC. On that day, the 114th  Anniversary Celebrations in the Northern Cape — due to be held in the Toto Mayaba Stadium — will see all manner of distinguished figures converging on this sleepy town in commemoration of the party’s founding.
The celebrations have been branded with the grandiose theme: ‘The year of Decisive Action to Fix Local Government and Transform the Economy’. An ANC statement adds: ‘This is a moment to reflect, renew and recommit to the movement of the people.’
In the meantime, it’s Wednesday 28 January, about 10 days before the bash. Old ‘struggle’ songs pierce the balmy summer evenings. Bakkies, sardine-packed with regalia-clad faithful, careen jubilantly and hooting loudly along the roads. Meetings pop up in ANC-run wards. Regional heads, all important-looking, saunter about as though reminding everybody what time it is.
The jobless shuffle around eagerly, doing their best to get noticed. They foresee a massive demand for marshals and piecemeal hands, so there’s no shortage of ready volunteers willing to do the necessary bidding. After all, nobody wants to be left out in the cold, especially not in Januworry.
By Thursday, the buzz has ratched up a few notches. Around the popular hangouts, boots on the ground are spreading the gospel of ‘come one, come all.’ Their variant of mending the nets plays itself out in the door-to-door campaigns throughout the town as well as in neighbouring places like Noupoort and Norvalspont.
ANC members and other volunteers receive instructions from party officials in preparation for the birthday shindig. Image: Northern Cape ANC Facebook page.
The Toto Mayaba Stadium is packed to the rafters as volunteers receive instructions from local and regional heads. By Friday the megaphones summon the ANC Youth League to the community hall. Suddenly, big ANC pre-local government election posters line the streets. Clearly, this is being billed as yet another big one.
As far as political party shindigs go, the ANC has garnered an undisputed reputation for throwing the most extravagant, controversial and downright confounding ones. History records these as orgies of meals in Styrofoam containers for the hoi polloi, and rivers of whiskey and hippie-like copulation conjuring up the phrase ‘what happens in Vegas’ for those who’ve managed to ascend to the leadership ranks.
Go anywhere where these events are held and admire the excess, show of force, and sprightly women lathered in make-up trying to grab the attention of this or that cadre. Sex, drugs and amapiano – Khongolose style. Believe me, in my misspent youth, I watched this sort of grandeur unfold with wonderment.
On that occasion, restaurants where I worked registered record turnovers. Waitresses cashed in mind-blowing tips. Fashion items flew off the racks at boutiques like socks from a thrift store. Even the sex workers in a particularly seedy street seemed to be making enough to take an early night off. (I know, because I lived in that Gomorrah of debauchery, and by midnight you could hardly spot a single one left on the streets.)
Anyway … the cutting of the giant birthday cake is a front-page staple. At the same time, the pundits scratch their heads in the op-ed sections as to how a party that sometimes pays its staffers on the 41st of the month and is marred by graft of staggering proportions is able to foot the bill for such grandiose displays.
People in ANC regalia have become a common sight. Image: eParkeni.
In its heyday, these probes were so ineffectual as to go unanswered or simply gratified with a smug response. The ANC was so mighty that it didn’t owe anybody any remorse or accountability – not journalists, not its own workers or alliance partners (mostly because the latter had long been co-opted into the Glenfiddich cabal), and certainly not the constituency.
Those were the Rainbow Nation days. Then came Mbeki’s black middle-class infatuation, followed by the State Capture boondoggle. Today, even in Ramaphosa’s supposed Damascus reset, the partying has never really been tamped down.
To an extent, it’s all understandable. The ANC’s limitless avarice has painted itself into a situation from which there is no redemption. The culture of overnight celebrations of easy but essentially empty victories creates the impression that the party is indeed slogging for the people of South Africa. But in practical terms the truth is far more disappointing: instead of celebrating legacy accomplishments, let’s say the unveiling of a major textile factory on January 8, the cadres – grown men and women – press forward to put their hands on a knife that cuts the celebratory birthday cake.
The cameras click or whirr, the people cheer, tomorrow the cleaners come in, and there’s nothing left but garbage in place of the pomp and pageantry. Not a new building, not a public service point, not even a tap. Instead, those who were lulled by the spectacle will be left wondering what was really being celebrated. Nowadays, things have deteriorated to such point that the mere dispensing of food parcels is turned into a great achievement, with leaders and beneficiaries posing for pictures to acknowledge the party’s caring efforts.
These were some of the perceptions that inspired much of the commentary dogging the ANC’s national celebration on January 8. Choosing to stage the festivities in North West, a province facing severe socio-economic and governance issues, the event was framed as a matter of the chickens coming home to roost. The party had supposedly come face to face with its own incapacity. The horrendously poor turnout not only brought this into sharp focus, but also suggested that the party’s days might well be numbered.
But in the Northern Cape, just as in North West, or anywhere else, it does not help the cadres to tone down on the flamboyance. They need to save face, to keep the idea of an infallible, well-resourced ANC alive in the minds of communities. They cannot appear wounded, or heading for the exit in light of the latest election results. It must be business as usual: motorcades, large crowds, big meals, fancy cars, whatever it takes to keep the spirit of Khongolese alive and burning.
The mbokodos or ANC Women’s League, the Youth League, and the masses singing and exulting the party’s praises are all crucial optics in this political theatre. In North West, the buy-in might have been disheartening, but if the run-up is anything to go by, the Northern Cape may still believe in it all.
Featured image: ANC posters bloom along Colesberg’s main street. Image: Eparkeni.
Interesting, well-written article. Thank you.