It has been 27 years now. Our wise and white-haired national icon is free from the walls of Robin Island. He is receding to his mother land; the land that is rich with minerals, surrounded by white criminals who brainwashed the Majority of African individuals, by commanding them to abandon their rituals. Failing to be consistent, you were brutally murdered as if it was an accident.
“I stand in front of everyone, on behalf of our president Nelson Mandela, to show appreciation to each and every individual who managed to obtain his and her ears. I never thought the stadium will be this occupied after so many years of living in tears. Viva Mandela Viva, Viva.” UBanzo Da Poet said, “I thank you.”
“I stand before you my people, as the president of this country. Numerous occasions have occurred and to be free is not merely to cast off one’s chains, but to live in a way that respects and enhances the freedom of others…”
The president of the people collapsed. He was impetuously taken to a nearest private hospital. After a 3 hour examination, he woke up confused. His wife, Minnie Mandela was frightened; she thought her husband was dying.
They were emphatic voices outside the ward, only to find out it was Mr Mandela’s two sons. They were aggressively striving to enter inside the ward, but the doctor was denying them access. Forcefully they managed to enter inside the ward. They both rushed to their father, to check up on him.
“Benson, Jason, why are you behaving like you in prison?” Mr Mandela asked. They both apologised for acting like prisoners, who totally don’t have manners.
The doctor came back inside the ward carrying a file.
“May I please stay with Mr Mandela while the three of you wait outside the ward.” He said to the family and they walked out. “Comrade 226,” the doctor said to Mr Mandela.
“It has been more than 35 years that I used my secret name. I was last called by that name when I was in China.”
“I never thought that you will come back alive. It is me, Comrade 225, we shared a hotel in China,” the doctor replied.
“Bulletproof, is this really you? When I was in jail they told me you were executed in Indonesia.”
“It was a false alarm, my brother, you were the only soldier who had my back. God was preventing you from dying when you got arrested. There is a family called the Juptas, these people are in charge of the world.
“They own 50% of South African Revenue Bank. In the last decades, the Juptas came with many Somalians, they operated tuck shops in each and every corner of Soweto. These Somalians used to live inside their tuckshops, if you can observe where they live, you would not believe. They hide their heads in million rand houses. Some guy called Naponya built a big mall in Soweto. Today there is not even one South African store inside Naponya Mall.
“There is a place in town called Mountainbrow, it is full of Nigerians. They sell drugs to our future leaders. Imagine an eight-year-old girl selling her body in order to feed her habit. Nigers work hand in hand with hospitals and clinics; once you get injected you will be addicted to drugs.”
“You’re trying to say I am a drug addict?”
“I am sorry to say this but I need to tell you. We have been brothers for so long, I will never stab you on your back.”
“Do me a favour, tell my family that I will be spending sometime in here. Every time they visit I will pretend to be sick, we need to fix this country before it is too late,” Mr Mandela said.
“There are no more Dom Pass, green ID books or smart cards. The Juptas influenced the government to change the system, now every South African citizen has a microchip in them. That chip carries your personal documents. They are always watching every step you take.”
“How does it carry my personal details?”
“The system has transformed, you use your thumb in everything you do. Your thumb has your driver’s licence, identity document, medical aid, wallet, bank cards.”
“Do you have a chip in you?” Mr Mandela asked?
“No I don’t,” the doctor replied. “Black people don’t know their roots, everyone you see around, they are similar to a computer. They are controlling human populations by sending a virus on a chip.”
“Observe this mark I have on my chest, it represents the Jupta family. If you don’t have this mark, you won’t be able to do anything in South Africa. I had no choice, my daughter was not feeling well, I did it by force. There is a universal key that we must find,” said the doctor.
“In this big country, where will I start looking for that key?” Mr Mandela said?
“It is obvious we need to approach the Juptas at their 48 Star Hotel.”
“Can I sleep now, may we talk tomorrow?”
“No problem, you need to rest. I wish you all the best for tomorrow, since we’re going to the worst place in town, good night.”
Mr Mandela covered himself with a blanket.
Light came after darkness and Mr Mandela woke up before sunrise. He went to take a shower. When he came back breakfast was ready and waiting for him. He heard his wife’s voice from outside, and quickly went back to bed and pretended to be asleep. She woke him up, but Mr Mandela was fast asleep. The doctor came inside the ward and told the wife that she can stay home for a couple of days. Minnie Mandela angrily went outside.
“Is she already gone?” Mr Mandela asked in a low voice.
They were already on their way to Mountainbrow.
“So all of these flats are full of Nigers,” Mr Mandela asked?
“Yes, they hijacked them from black landlords,” the doctor replied. “Now we are going to hijack them.” The doctor made a call. “How far you?”
“We are behind you,” the hitman replied.
The doctor introduced Mr Mandela to his hitman friends.
“We doing a job with our President,” hitman said.
“He’s not the president. Tell him to take off the mask.”
Without wasting time, they entered room by room, flat by flat.
Anyone who was found with something that is illegal was chased out. Guns, drugs, stolen goods where packed in different plastics. Girls who were selling their bodies were brutally beaten up and kicked out of the flats. Approximately three thousand people where kicked out. Renovations took place after tenants exiting the buildings.
“Never send a boy to do a man’s job,” Mandela said.
“What do you mean?”
“Police are also working with these people, Imagine I need to leave my office to come and do a dirty job like this,” Mandela replied.
“We have one mission left, let us go to the Juptas.”
They drove to the hotel. When they arrived the security was tight. Mr Mandela put on his mask and went to approach the securities. They followed him as body guards. The securities at the Jupta hotel were excited to see Mr Nelson Mandela. They gave them permission to enter. When he opened the door he couldn’t believe what he saw.
“Minnie, Jason, Banson…”
Mandela woke up. It was all a dream, he was still in prison.