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Posts tagged ‘Jacob Zuma’

6th Zuma Wife says goodbye, sort of: South Africa, I wish you luck.

Turns out I’ve been labelled somewhat of a political slut.

My term as the 6th Zuma wife seems to be coming to an end.  Apparently my kraal at the arse end of Nkandla has not been included in the renovation budget.  And until the security budget gets cleared, I am taking what I can to sell. And now that Mampollie Rampacious is announcing her big news today, how do I stand a chance?

When I was released from the basement by Jacob, I got a glimpse of the news. It turns out that South Africa is not doing too well at the moment. I didn’t know that the Oscars got this much media attention in South Africa.

Don’t get me wrong, I clung. I clung to my man’s ankles like a middle aged woman clings to youth. I clung like local sport heroes cling to their dignity. I clung like a conservative to his ideals. I clung like cling wrap to Jacob Zuma’s face during role plays…

So I fear that my time as the umpteenth partner to the sperm donor of our nation, the commander in penis, the handjob that holds us all together, and apart, must now bid him a farewell.

Don’t worry about me though. I will be a-okay. I did not survive being the mistress to Mandela and attempted murder charges from Winnie Madikizela for nothing. I did not survive a night of passion with Julius Malema only to find out that he was fired the day before for nothing. Nope, nah ah, I won’t have any of it. I am no longer about that life. These are lessons learned and I shall grow from them.

So on I go to new and more exciting opportunities. And for those of you who have not yet acclimatised to the jawonthefloor lingo, “new and exciting” is code for powerful black man.

As a sassy black woman who is neither black nor female, I feel that it is my duty to continue this tradition. So, Cyril Ramaphosa, I’m coming for you. Then you can come for me. Then we’ll just plain come.

This is exactly what I need to take my mind off everything.

First of all, his initials are CR. This means nothing, really, but I needed an introductory point, and I’m a little short here. Speaking of short, he is not. I got so tired of sitting on Jacob’s face and not being able to see his feet. Ok, now I’m just being bitter. One does not break the bonds of the union like JZ and I had without at least a little animosity.

I love you JJ.

But back to my silly Cyril! Here is a man who was the chief negotiator for the ANC during the tense pre-democracy years. Now if there are a few things I know in this life, they are tense, pre and democracy. Well, maybe not democracy.

This is exactly what South Africa needs at a crucial time like this. While I fill a bag with silver from the main house at Nkandla without being detected, Cyril has spent millions, on himself. Now that is the selflessness that I need at this time. All Jacob ever bought me was a George Foreman grill. Classy, but cheap.

The fact that Cyril has written constitutional law textbooks does not bode well for our imminent divorce, but I’ll cross that bridge when I use it to flee from the security guards.

So here is to hoping for a better tomorrow. But for now I need stronger knee guards. This Ramaphosa guy looks like he needs a lot more coercion than my Zuma. Your wife will miss you, Jacob L


<p>Author <a href=”https://plus.google.com/102128103971030481396” target=”blank” rel=”author”>Jerome Cornelius</a></p>


Sixth Zuma Wife speaks out – Nkandlagate

Such an exciting time for our nation, and world, and all people seem to do is complain.

So much has happened over the past few days that people don’t realise what a blessing this is for our nubile young nation.

As the sixth wife of President Jacob Zuma (he asked me to stop calling him by his pet names because it’s not professional, or African, or something) I am appalled by the people of this country.

Would you ingrates complain if Barry (that’s Mr Obama to the rest of you) spent a few Randelas on the White House for necessary upgrades? Not a chance! You people have no idea about the African way of doing things. Nkandla would be a national monument… to us. If any of you are ever in the area, you’re more than welcome to pop in for some tea and samp. If you can make it through the roadblocks and the locals we hired to… protect our homestead, then you deserve a special corner in our compound.

These locals are an essential feature of our humble home. I told JJ that they add ambience and flavour, not to mention the good it would do for the economy. The security of them is merely an afterthought. And the way they protected us from that devil, Zille! Imagine if she had crossed the threshold of our abode. Who does she think she is? Demanding rights and quoting from the “constitution”. As if we took that book seriously!

As the sixth wife to a very distinguished man, and brave leader (who happen to be the same person) I would defend our upgrades to kingdom come. For people to tell us that our way of life is morally corrupt is appalling? I beg to differ! We are only corrupt in the financial sense, and any other implication is highly offensive. We are humans and we have feelings. Just last week I called Lindi (that’s Lindiwe Sisulu you ignorant fools! Do keep up, please!) from the private jet, I couldn’t help but complain. She cried a little as she remembered the good ol’ days when we would go shopping abroad together on “business trips”. I hung up before she got too teary, but I could relate. We who fought in the struggle fought hard and deserve the best. So if I want a personalised underground tunnel for a midnight rendezvous with my husband, I don’t think that racist allegations should be tossed my way.

But it seems that this racist media has finally woken up and shown their first families some respect. Like I said, you are all welcome, anytime we are not there, especially readers of jawonthefloor, but to name our front door “Nkandla-gate”, well that was just too kind of you! Now if you all could name the rest of our home, especially my four closets, that would be much appreciated.


<p>Author <a href=”https://plus.google.com/102128103971030481396” target=”blank” rel=”author”>Jerome Cornelius</a></p>


The State of Us

What can I say about what’s been happening in sunny South Africa  recently that hasn’t been said? Funny how the weather in the fair Cape has been a right bitch (I actually like rain, wind and cold, but I’m speaking metaphorically, of course).

From the Marikana mine MASSACRE, to the mass protests in Cape Town over service delivery, we are in trouble. I do not agree with the doom mongers who try to beat us as a country down and not give us a chance. However, we are not doing enough.

This ties in nicely with that other mess of a situation of which I have spoken previously: The Limpopo education DEBARCLE.

How are we ever going to move forward without education? We shan’t. Never in a million years.

Let’s look at the situations: those people at Marikana were living in abject poverty, a couple hundred metres from the platinum mines. Surely the big guys at the top should have been looking out for them, no?

The people in the Western Cape were jumping and hollering like children trying to get their ways.

I disagree with police people being killed and I sympathise with the families of the miners, but I think we are ALL responsible here. I am not one to place blame on one party. When I play the blame game, everyone gets an equal squirt from me.

These people want necessities and we in the middle can only shake our heads and say “Tsk tsk, ‘tis a shame”.  These people have never heard of mass letter/e-mail campaigns, peaceful protests, silent marches and sit-ins. I won’t even pretend to know what it is like to not have a house, toilet or food. And if I didn’t, you can bet there would be hell to pay.

And on the other side, there are the powers that be, fighting each other while people kill each other. It is becoming a war zone, with kids watching on, taking notes.

We are grooming a new generation of obedient sheep. This is the generation (I narrowly avoided this, thank you God) that is hypnotised by endless stimuli and leave school with their eyes firmly on the little box in front of their eyes. This little box that shapes their world. These people fighting at the top are moulding our future and we are all just shaking our heads.

Do you see how complicit EVERY SINGLE PERSON is in the state of this glorious nation? You can’t escape it simply by blaming government or miners or the minster or president or premier or whoever you think is responsible. You are in charge of your own world and what you do in your immediate surroundings will emanate outward.

Go on, stand up.


For a view on education, check out my good friends blog entry. It’s angry, polemic and it makes sense. Read it and nod.  And in his words, if you don’t like it, then f*** off. His words. His. And sometimes mine.


<p>Author <a href=”https://plus.google.com/102128103971030481396” target=”blank” rel=”author”>Jerome Cornelius</a></p>


6th Zuma Wife discusses the Olympics

With all this Olympic fever, I was inspired to write about my own Olympic God and the games that are the life of the 6th Zuma wife.

As a wife to the first citizen of this mildly average nation, I was as caught up as everyone else when we won those golds and silver. We are currently number 13 in the world, which made Jay-Zu a very happy man indeed. He let me out of my kraal for the night and we went for gold ourselves.

This is a momentous time for South Africa. As a woman of grace and splendour, and also as a man, I am honoured to be holding the spear of the nation up and keeping the flame lit on this side of the equator. Someone has to do it and I am partially grateful for this accomplishment.

Many judge us and our lifestyle. However I do want us to move forward as a nation and forget about our interesting relationship. As I have said on this blog before, it is hard work to keep it hard. Do not judge us until you can walk a metre in our shoes.

The wives, Jakie and I were supposed to travel to London together and revel in the games. But you know men, JJ got a little nervous when I saw those five rings and wanted five rings of my own.

So I’m still at home, trying to escape to the main house. The recent renovations have left me relegated to a kraal even further back in the compound.  At least we get a taste of our own Olympics over here. Angie Moshoeshoe, Minister of Education or something, proved that we don’t do anything in half measure is this country.  And with all the wet weather, there will be a lot of new swimmers for the next Olympics.

Just looking through the bars of the compound, I saw about 300 refugees swimming upstream in the river. Minister Dlamini-Zuma, that bitch, better not neglect her duties over here now that she’s in charge of the AU.  It’s bad enough that she’s the original “first wife”, making the rest of us look bad. Bronze medal for her.  The least she can do is get these immigrants registered asap so we can use them for something other than building our new security wall.

Julius gets the gold in my books for tenacity. He tried competing with the kids in a little mini-Olympics on the front lawn of the compound and the poor dear ran out of steam after the first event. He placed 35 out of 36. I think Jacob let him win, or he also collapsed from exhaustion.

Let’s hope that SA can keep flying that flag high. We are all proud of you.

PS: if any of you are interested, the Zuma household now welcomes new applications. We are set for a new wife.

<p>Author <a href=”https://plus.google.com/102128103971030481396” target=”blank” rel=”author”>Jerome Cornelius</a></p>


Much ado about penis (6th Zuma wife speaks out)

My husband is such a dickhead. Laugh out loud! But what a man, right?

I escaped from my kraal at the back of the Zuma compound to tell the world to calm down and stop judging Jackie so harshly. Last night when we were doing our usual role playing, he opened up. He also told me how he feels.

I am partly to blame. That painting was actually inspired by one I had done of him. You see, after we watched Titanic 3D, we had some 3D fun of our own. Jake painted me, I painted him, he spoke Russian, I spoke French; it all became a little too romantic even for a classy lady like me.

Now what you people need to understand is that, what happens between two consenting men, I mean people, is their business. So what if JJ poses for me with little Jj getting some air. That is between husband and wife. I told him to calm down too, that other leaders have had similar paintings done, like the prime minister of some country called Canada. He has no need to feel anything but Pride.

I think Jay might be a little embarrassed that he actually had this one commissioned and then regretted it.  I was there when he had this painting done. He got so carried away, thinking it’s a photo shoot. I shouted give me more. Unfortunately he took this a bit too literally.

The media needs to understand that this is a matter of national security. What would happen if the people saw their leader in this position? What a hard position it will be for him. What a hard position it is for me! People need to put their selfish needs aside and realise that a true African man must be respected.  “This never happened to Nelson” he cried the other night as I crawled over my fellow wives to get a better listen. Those folks at the Goodman Gallery do not know what they are talking about. This is fine art! That is the issue here, right?

<p>Author <a href=”https://plus.google.com/102128103971030481396” target=”blank” rel=”author”>Jerome Cornelius</a></p>


The 6th Zuma Wife, or something.

First of all, Happy 70th Birthday to my love, Mr President. For you, a prezzie for my Prezzie.

Let me start with a disclaimer. Or rather, a warning, if you must. Reading this post could place you in a sticky situation, as it does me every so often. This is strictly need to know, and by participating, you do so at your own risk.

I, my dear friends, family and faithful bloggettes, am the 6th Zuma wife. You could say Im the sixth lady of the glorious Republic of South Africa. Don’t worry, it will all make sense soon. I do not actually know exactly how many others there are of my fellow wives (or colleagues as we call ourselves) there are, because I am kept in, and on, the dark. This is partly due to the security risk. I insist that Zooms (one of my many pet names for him) does not spend tax payer’s money on me. Rather I insist on him allowing others to spend said money on me.  How else do you think I am supposed to get a car, house and botox injections? By getting a job?! Please do not insult me; im practically royalty. Although I do get my way through a variety of jobs.

The complexities of this relationship are made harder (!) by the fact that I am not a public figure. Although I have yet to meet Barack and Michelle, I have been introduced to Vlad and Dmitri. And Phil and Liz (the Winds’s as we jokingly call them) were delightful. Unfortunately I was known as a butler, or assistant or whatever, but this is ok. Love knows no bounds.

What JayJay and I have is special and I would not swap it for all the Zim dollars in the world. And in case you are wondering, NO, he is not, you know, that g-word. There exists no such word in our home, or culture.  Why I have decided to come out now with this revelation? We are moving forward as a nation. I respect my husband and the decisions that he and our colleagues make, and therefore have decided to get it in now before we get muzzled. Well, Jay-Zee and Jay-Me do an assortment of muzzling exercises but talking about that would be tacky, now wouldn’t it?

This is a love that must be shared. We are timeless and this will last forever. Like Elizabeth and Richard, Brad and Jen and the other couples in the magazines he brings me from his overseas travels. What a great man, right?


<p>Author <a href=”https://plus.google.com/102128103971030481396” target=”blank” rel=”author”>Jerome Cornelius</a></p>

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