Armchair Activist: (Un)sanitary Peasants

Dear Comrades in bling

So, there I was, watching some mindless television and lo and behold, some Councilor from some constituency I am yet to visit came on my screen spewing some nonsensical gibberish about condoms and sanitary pads.

When I heard the word ‘condom’ I immediately became erect (excuse the pun). Because in my mind I was thinking, “are they whining about that infamous tender by our fellow blinger, again?” We all know what a bunch of cry babies these lot can be. Anywho, I digress. Now as I was watching, one Harald Kabrude started talking about condoms and sanitary pads. I am sure you will forgive me for totally misunderstanding his message. I heard the word condom and when I saw his name on the screen I mistook the name Kabrude for Kamboroto. Now, we all know that condom and Kamboroto is like a KFC streetwise 2 combo.

But I digress again.

Mr Kamboroto, in true Kaptein style made it known to all and sundry that he will not distribute condoms in his constituency, because those rabbat 13 year olds must get their fathers to give it to them.

Fellow blingers, there’s a lot to unpack here, but let me confine myself to two. First of all, without blinking Oom Kamboroto admitted that in REBOT they start chopping at 13. Yes, 13!!!! And if I didn’t get it wrong with the permission of their parents! Otherwise why would they be send to their fathers to get a monthly supply of Dr Long or Rocky. I don’t know much about those particular people of the South, but all I know is that if you have to chop at the tender age of 13, chances are you don’t have a father in your life, cause otherwise he would clap the yellow off you just for asking for the condom. Yeah, I can hear the father say. “Kondoom, kondoom. Jou masse kondoom.” (Sorry, this doesn’t translate. Just be strong).

Maara, the fact that our CANCELLOR thinks that condoms and sanitary pads are antithetical is beyond me. Can you imagine the chaos in that household: Maritjie hormones are raging cause it’s that time of the month and Enrico’s hormones are raging because it’s, well…daai tyd (it’s that time). Now, nobody gets to do anything just because government didn’t distribute sanitary pads. And since those condoms will be kept in a warehouse till kingdom come, somewhere in REBOT there will be a latex infused warehouse. It’s madness. The least he can do is to give Dr Long to kids to fill it with water and pop balloons.

As I am taking a sip on Scotland’s finest I am trying to wrap my head around the Windhoek Municipality’s sanitary workers. Yes, fine, they are contract workers, but at least they have a contract. Ousie Magdalena who has been working for the Van Vuuren and some of us Shipangas doesn’t have a contract. Not even a spazza signature on a tissue paper. But these guys are here throwing trash in the streets because they also want medical aid and car allowance.

That’s right, Paulus and his fellow sanitary workers decided to leave the city unsanitary. Peasants are annoying.

Later.

Activist-in-Bling
(PS: Nena openi?)

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