Once, the only sure things were death and taxes. But that was before the ANC. These days you can die in a hail of auditors’ reports and Sunday headlines, and be reincarnated as secretary-general. As for taxes, well, if the cash is going straight from you into a Louis Vuitton suitcase, isn’t that just theft? There are still, however, two other immutable truths that we can carve in stone: on May 8 well over half of the South Africans who vote will make their mark next to the ANC; and as soon as that result becomes official the rest of the country will heave a long, shuddering sigh and ask, “Why?” It seems like a logical question, especially to news-guzzling urbanites. Once astonishment hardens into anger, it will feel similarly logical to accuse ANC voters of being stupid, or at least wildly self-destructive. These accusations will feel legitimate because of the evidence we’ve been choking on for years: the dozens of Big Men trailing toxic ooze out of their pointy shoes; the hundreds ...

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