SARAH BUITENDACH: Nice day for a white wedding
A political party that’s looking more than a little shaky should aspire to get everyone on their feet — not die of embarrassment on its behalf
You’ll have seen it before, and cringed. It’s a couple of hours and plenty of Jägermeister in, and, as the beat drops, they appear — a motley group of sweat-drenched guys, collars up, ties around their heads, ready to “break it down” to Mandoza’s Nkalakatha.
The lads unselfconsciously cascade their sick moves. By this, I actually mean sick: rhythm has clearly been something of a nemesis for most of them, which only becomes more evident as they persist in awkwardly mimicking Johnny Clegg with unwarranted confidence. Still, the crowd, enrapt in a circle, whoops shouts of encouragement. Just maybe the bride’s granny can be convinced to bust a move too...
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