Now Here’s a Funny Thing . . .
In Durban here we have a ‘municipal magazine’ that was foisted on the ratepayers a few years ago. The crowd downtown couldn’t even get the launch right. It was “FREE!!” but our electric accounts were debited an extra $1 for it and of course you couldn’t unsubscribe from this thing.
The most interesting pages of course were (note: were) the letters sent in by the punters. Most were critical to varying degrees of everything from dog crap to potholes. Each was followed by a reply from those responsible - all well and good.
For a very long time now those with the temerity to put pen to paper are totally ignored in favour of ‘What a wonderful bobby at the junction of Bellair Road’ signed Mavis Arkwright, 106.
Now, for the same length of time, as both readers of these columns will know, something called an ‘airport’ has been built in north Durban. Eight billion rands worth of new airport. Bigger than Heathrow.
It opens tomorrow.
The papers are full of it. We’re very proud. It was even on Sky News bless it. TV has extensive coverage.
Although I am now off the ‘preferred ratepayers’ list and do not get the Metro magazine I have been told that there is not a single mention of the biggest, longest, most prestigious project that has ever befell Durban.
Not a single bloody word. Now isn’t that strange?
I also understand that Municipal Manager Comrade Michael Sutcliffe has never set foot on the new airport during the five years it has taken to be built. Now, the new FIFA 2010 soccer stadium (above) - you can’t keep the man out of it. He even bungee jumped off the span - I would have taken my knife if I had been there. His backside protruding out of the centre spot could be used as a kicking tee. I would have had to stand in line behind most of Durban with their knives.
The producer of the MetroBeat is a Peter Bendheim who apparently spends most of his waking hours with his camera in his hand. You’d think that the building of your new airport would make an interesting project wouldn’t you?
Incidentally, any of the locals who have the misfortune of using the Bellair Road / Edwin Swales Road (or whatever unpronouncable its’ called now) intersection will know that the sight of a Metro traffic cop is about as likely as the sight of one of the dwarf chameleons that live nearby. In the long, frequent interludes between the short, infrequent interludes when the lights are working the junction is manned by the hawkers that ply their trade at the junction. And they do a bloody sight better than the incompetents in blue.