Letter to Mahlamba Ndlopfu — Roll up! Roll up! It’s the great political party fire sale!

Ah, Chief Dwasaho! I still had sleep dirt in my eyes, brain fog thicker than a politician’s empty promises, and my wife hadn’t yet summoned me to the kitchen to make my meanest filtered Ethiopian Arabica, brewed with the precision of billionaire entrepreneur Elon Musk dismantling the US agencies. My wife, of course, makes the real breakfast. Division of labour, anyone?

Then, boom! I opened my email, and what greeted me was the usual corporate trope: Daily Maverick Sale! While I attempted to wrap my head around what was up for grabs, the copywriter extraordinaire continued: “We read a study that showed including the word ‘sale’ in a campaign increased turnover by 50%.”

It was yet another clever attempt to get readers to support independent journalism — to Defend the Truth, as it were. But my mind had already shifted into overdrive.

Dear reader, what’s truly on sale isn’t just news subscriptions or contributions to sustain our beleaguered free press — it is political leadership itself at bargain-bin prices. Buy one, get a whole faction free! Yet, holding power to account can’t be discounted.

I couldn’t contain my mirth upon hearing that the reconfiguration (what’s that?) of the ANC provincial executive committees (PECs) in Gauteng and KwaZulu-Natal (KZN) had gone ahead, blending the present with the old-guard veterans, if you will. They will govern under adult supervision, like kindergarteners on a school trip – watched, warned, and never fully trusted to cross the street alone.

This comes after the thrashing these provinces suffered in the May 2024 elections. In KZN, the ANC scraped together a dismal 17%; in Gauteng, it limped to just under 35%.

So, the great leadership reshuffle is not so much a fresh start as it is a clearance sale of expired political stock. The Titanic is sinking, and instead of plugging the gaping holes, they’re rearranging the deck chairs with a 50% markdown on charisma, 33% off intellectual depth, a buy-one-get-one-free scandal offer, and a staggering 60% off integrity.

Accountability? Slashed by 75%. Work ethic? Discounted by 80%. Vision? Practically given away at 90% off. Public trust? That’s a discontinued item – out of stock, permanently.

And let’s be honest – scandal has never been a liability in South African politics; it’s practically a credential. A clean politician? Hard sell. A politician without scandal is like a spaza shop without Magwinya – you have to wonder if they’re even open.

And so, we arrive at the inevitable irony: instead of learning from their electoral bruising, the ANC has opted for a “back to factory settings” approach – same cadres, same tired script.

The people of Gauteng and KZN didn’t just vote for change; they voted for a clearance sale on ANC leadership – visionless and rudderless. They rejected leaders best described as intellectual toads – lacking grit and gravitas, neither possessing elders’ wisdom nor youth’s dynamism.

Instead of great thinkers and charismatic orators, we are left with career politicians clinging to power, their only currency being stale rhetoric. The electorate saw through the smoke and mirrors and decided that if the ANC sold leadership at a discount, they’d rather walk out empty-handed.

But rather than reading the market signals, the ANC is doubling down on the same worn-out stock, repackaged with new titles and hopeful marketing spin. Except in this case, the last straw is the old guard – the very people who steered the ship into the iceberg.

My leader, I find myself at sixes and sevens about criticising the Democratic Alliance of Baas John Steenhuisen, again – a man who, by all accounts, is a pleasant fellow but as ideologically hollow as a drum. However, my discomfort cannot mask the fact that the DA has been running its leadership clearance sale, too, flogging off liabilities to maintain marketability.

Take the case of Renaldo Gouws, whose past came back to haunt him like an unpaid e-toll bill. Shortly after the newly constituted Parliament convened in 2024, videos resurfaced of Gouws spewing racist bile against black people. The backlash was swift, and by September the DA’s Federal Legal Commission had completed its ritual of political exorcism, terminating his party membership and sending him packing from Parliament.

He was sold for 30 pieces of liberal, virtue-signalling silver after the DA’s elders and ideological gatekeepers determined that his brand had depreciated beyond salvage. The man had gone from loyal blue soldier to political dead weight, a liability whose mere existence threatened to devalue the DA’s fragile standing among black voters.

It is astounding how swiftly the DA’s axe fell on former Cape Town mayoral committee member for human settlements Malusi Booi, for his alleged role in swindling the City’s coffers while rubbing shoulders with underworld figures.

An incredible R1-billion? Not even the most scandal-plagued ANC leader has ever carried that price tag. But the Blue Machine saw blue – or red – and swiftly dispatched him to political pasture, sold for free or, more accurately, donated straight into the hands of the underworld. Booi had neither white privilege nor political stature to shield him – his stat rating barely clocked in at 33%.

Yet, the poster boy for a “safer” Cape Town, the DA’s JP Smith, continues to enjoy exponential value appreciation despite police raiding his office. The all-out manoeuvre to shield Smith also extended to his comrade-in-arms, Xanthea Limberg, both neck-deep in the same political stew.

I had, quite foolishly, assumed that all “comrades” whose market value diminished the party’s total capitalisation had to “step aside” – that’s always been the DA’s war cry against “thugs” clad in black, green and gold.

But lo and behold, Smith’s white privilege card was swiped at the DA’s internal judiciary, and – miraculously! – a “judicial peek” into the evidence (a mirror image of his beloved gadgets, no less) found nothing yet to justify his removal.

No trained sleuths had even completed their forensic digging, yet the DA decided he stayed put. His political stock has skyrocketed by 75%, a masterclass in survival, a distinction in selective accountability.

Somewhere, Comrade Pule Mabe must be howling in pain, watching Smith et al dodge accountability but walk away with a promotion in liberal currency while he is on step aside.

Comrade Leadership, my discomfort continues – I can’t be seen criticising uBaba’s stokvel twice in a row. But the MK party is in flux, teetering between factional loyalty and personal ambition. My honest opinion, and not one meant to appease those who went to schools starting with St... what what, is that uBaba must call for a leadership clearance sale to defuse the ever-growing tensions.

Fresh from the Duduzile Zuma-Sambudla vs Floyd Shivambu smackdown, we now have former judge John Hlophe, the MK deputy president and parliamentary leader, at loggerheads with the party’s chief whip, Mzwanele Manyi.

The altercation reportedly unfolded after Hlophe's parliamentary speech – essentially a hymnal to Jacob Zuma's greatness – where Manyi was accused of setting him up with an unfavourable script. Tempers flared, and the MK party, already resembling a fatigued military cosplay convention, suddenly had another battlefront within its ranks.

To solve these simmering tensions, a clearance sale is needed. Zuma-Sambudla, for ill-discipline and factionalism, shall be put on auction. Thanks to her Twitter/X tirades, her value is already down 46%. Hlophe, recently impeached, isn’t worth much either – integrity sits at a modest 33%, honesty 22%, and charisma barely registers at 15%.

As for Manyi, the serial party-hopper, his value is comparable to those Chinese mushrooms once hyped as a miracle crop in KZN by one Sibusiso Ndebele – big promises, zero impact.

As my famous brain fog returned after a leisurely lunch, I caught wind of the latest shocker – Finance Minister Enoch Godongwana’s Budget shindig was abruptly cancelled, wait for it... the Blue Machine wouldn’t back a budget with a 2% VAT increase.

Imagine that! The poster boy of fiscal prudence, the markets’ darling, is getting a hard smack instead of a 20% surge in his political stock for yet another “balanced budget” charade.

I must now withdraw my earlier critique of Baas John Steenhuisen. The man practically stood at the gates of Rome, keeping the barbarians at bay.

Till next week, my man. Send me to the Blue Machine HQ for tea with John. DM