My Mitchell’s Plain Aunty Delighted Me with Cake and Politics
Sunday afternoon after lunch, my mom suggested we visit my aunty in Mitchell’s Plain.
Seeing I’ve been a bad daughter by for not visiting my mother often recently, I felt guilty and dragged my sister along on the 20 minute ride to Mitchell’s Plain.
It’s funny how mothers can use that guilt card without feeling guilty themselves.
I also wanted to visit my aunty out of pure curiousity. As I’ve previously mentioned – it’s matric ball time in Mitchell’s Plain.
My cousin’s matric ball is tonight and lots of preparation have gone into getting him ready for that supposedly once in a lifetime event. (We can only hope it’s going to be his one and only matric ball.)
Things got off to a good start – my cousin apparently got a date for the ball.
My aunty, as she usually does on a Sunday, had loads of treats set out on the table. All my favourites – although all sweet treats in general are my favourites.
We settled down with cups of tea in my late grandmothers china and had a great old conversation about past matric balls in the family.
Then I went into the kitchen to help another cousin wash cups and on my return the conversation had turned to politics.
Just as I walked in my mother went silent. (My mother didn’t want to end the visit early as always happen when the conversation turns to politics.)
My aunty continued the conversation they were obviously having – she, like me,has no qualms about getting into a heated discussion.
“Zuma is giving all his friends and creditors jobs in his government,” is what I heard her say.
“What are you talking about?” I asked.
“What is he supposed to put DA supporters in his government,” I continued. “If they want to have people of their choice in government, they should win an election!”
I could hardly control myself. And neither could my aunty…
“Are you still defending that criminal,” she nearly shouted.
“I’m not defending anybody, and Zuma has not been found guilty of anything.” I tried to calm down.
“And,” I went on, “I’m no supporter of Jacob Zuma, but I’m tired of the opposition doing as they please by filling their local government with white men and defending it.”
“But they want to criticise others who do the same thing.”
“Well,” my aunty replied, “They choose people with integrity who knows how to do the job.”
“And they benefited from apartheid.” I shot back. “And who’s to say they have integrity…is it just because they’re white?”
My mother was getting that nervous look again.
“Who’s he taking to the matric ball,” she tried to steer the conversation away from politics.
With the words matric ball, my aunty’s eyes lit up again.
Politics forgotten.
