WeeklySA_AdminBESIEGED: Some comrades believe evil spirits have seized control of the ANC’s steering wheel while others worry that such perceptions may further damage the party’s credibility…
By Themba Khumalo
Somewhere in the invisible world, an evil spirit has collapsed onto the floor laughing so hard that the rest of his clan is beginning to worry about internal injuries.
His ribs ache. His stomach hurts. He keeps trying to stand up, but the laughter returns in waves.
“What exactly is so funny?” one of his relatives finally asks.
The spirit wipes tears from his eyes and points toward Johannesburg.
“The comrades,” he gasps. “At Luthuli House.”
That explanation alone sends another ripple of laughter through the room.
Because — as reported by News24 — there is a rather serious discussion unfolding at Luthuli House, headquarters of the African National Congress. The subject of the discussion is whether the building requires a spiritual cleansing ceremony.
Consultations, we are told, have already taken place with izangoma and izinyanga. The suspicion has arisen that someone may have cast an evil spell.
There is talk of malevolent forces. Dark influences. Unfriendly presences.
In certain corners of the debate, the theory has taken an even more colourful turn.
Some comrades appear to believe that evil spirits have been roaming the corridors braaing the fortunes of the ANC, turning them slowly over imaginary coals while election results burn quietly in the background.
Naturally, the comrades are divided.
They are always divided.
One group believes the explanation is obvious. Evil spirits have clearly taken control of the steering wheel of the organisation and are driving it like a reckless taxi on a rainy highway, swerving straight into electoral disaster.
Another group shifts uneasily and suggests that publicly blaming evil spirits and voodoo for political decline may not do wonders for the credibility of a party that is supposed to governs with some modicum of integrity.
The debate circles the room like a moth around a candle. One comrade insists that cleansing rituals must be performed. Smoke must rise. The evil spirits must be chased out. The ancestors must be appeased.
Another comrade quietly wonders whether the voters might notice if the governing party begins diagnosing its problems like a haunted farmhouse.
Meanwhile, in the spirit world, the laughter continues.
“They think we are braaing their fortunes,” the first spirit says, wiping his eyes.
Another spirit looks genuinely offended.
“Why would we braai in an office corridor?”
“Exactly,” replies the first. “Even evil spirits prefer proper ventilation.”
The real witnesses to this spectacle, however, are the ancestors.
They sit quietly, watching the living the way elders watch children who have confidently dismantled a perfectly good machine and are now blaming the wind for why it no longer works.
One of them sighs.
“So now the grandchildren think the house is possessed.”
Another nods slowly.
“Possessed, yes. By arrogance.”
A third adds softly, “And by the habit of ignoring voters.”
Eventually the elders place a calm message into the spirit world.
“Please inform the one who is laughing on the floor,” they say, “that the grandchildren appear to have been smoking something extremely expensive and entirely illegal. He should not take these accusations personally.”
The evil spirits promise to try, though the laughter continues.
Down on earth, however, the proposed cleansing has triggered a far more urgent emergency in a dusty kraal where several goats and chickens have been gathered under circumstances that feel deeply suspicious.
Animals understand ritual logistics.
They know the difference between being invited to a ceremony and being selected for slaughter.
The meeting begins with a rooster pacing furiously across the dust like a shop steward preparing to address a strike.
“So let me understand this madness,” he shouts. “The humans ignore the voters, crash their politics into a ditch, and now they want to kill us because they think evil spirits are braaing their election results in an office corridor?”
A hen flaps her wings in outrage.
“They spoke to izangoma and izinyanga,” she says. “They say evil forces are roaming Luthuli House.”
A young goat snorts.
“If evil spirits truly lived there,” he mutters, “they would have fled years ago out of sheer embarrassment.”
The chickens cluck loudly in agreement.
One of them jumps onto a rock like a revolutionary addressing a rally.
“They ignored the electorate! They rewarded loaf distributors and tender magicians! They strutted around with the arrogance of kings! Now the voters have spoken and suddenly the problem is evil spirits having a braai?”
The kraal erupts in angry murmurs.
Finally the oldest goat steps forward. His beard trembles with restrained fury.
“My friends,” he says slowly, “before they drag us into this ceremony, we must send a message to the evil spirits.”
“What message?” asks the rooster.
“That they should stop laughing long enough to explain the situation.”
“And what situation is that?” the rooster presses.
The old goat looks toward the distant city where Luthuli House stands.
“That houses are not destroyed by evil spirits,” he says quietly.
“They are destroyed by the people living inside them.”
Silence settles over the animals.
Because even livestock understand cause and effect.
Above them, the ancestors continue watching the smoke of debate rising from Luthuli House — talk of cleansing rituals, talk of spells, talk of chasing away evil spirits.
And the elders keep wondering the same simple thing.
Why has nobody suggested the obvious remedy?
Competent leadership.
Discipline.
Humility.
Service to the people whose dream built the house in the first place.
Until that happens, the evil spirits will continue laughing, the goats will continue protesting their innocence, and the fortunes of the ANC will keep smouldering quietly — not on some supernatural braai in the corridor, but in the very human fire of arrogance, neglect and astonishing political self-deception.
