Rubber stamps no longer

At last, at last, change has come at last. This week the unthinkable happened—the MPs refused to remain callously indifferent to the plight of the nation’s elders and declared that it would no longer be business as usual (or rather no business as usual). In ushering out the minister and his pointless and worthless statement of more words guaranteed to fool no-one, the MPs ushered in a new era.
We can’t say that we hadn’t hoped for it, nor can we say that we can’t see other motives here; but—at last!
I’ve written before—and recently—that the way we treat our fellow human beings reveals who we truly are, and that the way the elderly and marginal have been constantly and chronically ignored had revealed this current government to be nothing more than a sham and a shame; now the tide has begun to turn. Only begun, mind you, for the elderly have not yet been paid their miserable amounts, but now there is hope. And I hope that the money is found and paid long before Christmas, and that no foolish editor or headline-maker dares to declare the eventual payout is some kind of Christmas present for the needy. It isn’t a present; it’s a right. These old people have contributed to this nation, they’ve done their bit for us, and now it’s our time to do our bit for them. Not because we have to, or even because we ought to, but because we’re human.
It was beginning to get late for change. Our sense of purpose and humanity had all but deserted us. Consider: corruption (also known as exploiting others) had seemingly become a way of life; doing something to help the sick, the orphaned, and the poor had become nothing more than a tired round of mouthing the same words without any intention to act on them; being incompetent had become proof of nothing except that it was time to move you and your incompetence elsewhere; violence, especially gender abuse, was endemic in the home, and on the streets; and—perhaps the most damning of all—even the dead were not allowed to be buried and able to rest in peace. It was getting embarrassing to admit to being human.
But now change has come: not much, just a little; not delivery, just a promise; but real change nonetheless.
There had been rumblings in the deep before this. The new minister for Housing surprised us all by standing up against the councils to declare that massive rates increases put burdens on people that can no longer be justified or allowed. He has gone further and announced that he intends to make changes to the Rating Act, the Urban Government Elections regulations, and the Building Regulations. I hope he makes radical changes. If I was the minister I would announce, first, that no-one working for a council could earn more than the council’s CEO; then I would cut the CEO’s salary by a third and use that money to support all child- and teenager-headed households within a council’s boundaries. As the uproar over bogogo has shown, there is no compassion, no care, no heart, at the core of our government, whether central or local. Within every council boundary there are orphans, HIV-sick, elderly, poor, and others who are effectively ignored by people put into positions where they could help, but don’t.
We have to ask, and we have to ask loudly, what are all these Cabinet members and Council officers and Civil Servants in public office for? Is it simply because they want a job? If so, then they need to vacate their offices as from yesterday already. Or are they there because a relative or friend has got them a position? If so, then they need to vacate their offices as from yesterday already. Or are they in public office because they believe it’s a fast track to the gravy train? Well, it isn’t any longer. The gravy has just about run out.
Until this week it was all too easy to be uncaring and incompetent because there was no accountability. Central and local government relied on the fact that they were monopolies and were therefore arrogant enough to believe that they could do as they pleased, or nothing at all (which was often the preferred route). But change has come. The MPs have begun jostling for position, for they sense that multi-parties will come. Maybe not soon; maybe not now; but one day, for sure, and when multi-parties come, the people will ask what they did when the nation needed them. This week the MPs gave their answer. They’re rubber stamps no longer.