Someone please remind me again why our politicians need bodyguards. And why so many?
Is it because they fear citizens might harm them for the decisions they are part of?
Would it then not be smarter for them to make better moral decisions, rather than waste our money on VIP protection from the angry consequences?
And why do they need such massive cavalcade escorts whenever they have to drive from one location to the next?
The Blue Light Brigades go through intersections at speed, even when there’s not much traffic to speak of to slow down their progress.
And this happens whether they are late for meetings or not. Or even if they are heading anywhere important at all.
I have witnessed them force their way through heavy traffic just to get their minister to his hotel, or to the airport, where he then sits around waiting for his flight. It’s all such an unnecessary show of self-importance.
But what happened last week is truly the cherry on top, because the VIP in question – Deputy President Paul Mashatile – wasn’t even in any of the cars, according to him.
I’m not going to recount the story, because I’m sure by now you would’ve seen enough detail about the assault.
I will say that I found it particularly cowardly that members of this supposedly elite, crack squad of bodyguards continued to kick an unarmed and unconscious man, who clearly posed no threat.
It speaks to the particularly psychotic lack of compassion of a group drunk on the power they hold in one hand, and automatic assault rifles in the other. It doesn’t get any more explosive than that.
What I will do is tell you about the trauma it brought back for me and why I believe every word victims of these blue light bullies speak. I have been one of their victims on three separate occasions.
When I was new to Johannesburg, my friends and I were chased down by VIP protection officers, because we mouthed obscenities at them, when they cut us off in traffic.
Obviously we didn’t know who they were and thought it was just another terrible Joburg driver.
They caught up with us at a traffic light, got out of their car and threatened us with arrest.
Years later, while working as a broadcast journalist in Cape Town, I went to a location where then-president Thabo Mbeki would be.
I was warned by one of his bodyguards not to ask him any questions, which is an absurd thing to say to a reporter who is obviously there to do just that.
When Mbeki passed by, I asked my question from a distance, at which point his one bodyguard stormed over to me, grabbed me by the arms and proceeded to rough me up, shouting at me about how I disobeyed his order.
I later laid a charge of assault against him. I still don’t know what became of that case.
More recently, I was almost knocked out of the way for not walking over a pedestrian crossing fast enough.
I literally had to jump out of the way to avoid being hit by one of those black SUVs pulling away fast and unexpectedly from a hotel in Sandton, blue lights flashing.
I simply just carried on with my day, knowing there would be no point in complaining to anyone.
Funny thing is, blue light brigades are probably government’s most visible marketing tools; a literal PR machine that could generate a lot of positive reputational optics without much effort.
Or they can at least avoid adding to the negative opinion many of us have of ministers.
And yet, every time we hear of them, they seem determined to add insult to injury.