"You don't wish to be me," Baleka Mbete told the Sunday Times. She's right. I don't want to be Baleka Mbete. Because right now, the speaker of parliament is desperately draping plastic sheeting all over her ministerial home, trying to save it from the muddy hoof-prints of the miniature water buffalo she's just been sent by Cyril Ramaphosa.Nobody saw this coming. I'd already filed an earlier version of this column, based entirely on the decision we all knew she would make: a public vote; the party closing ranks; the Zupta zombies marching in lockstep further down the sewer of infamy.And then she went and channelled her inner Moses and cried out: "Let my people go!" and now nobody knows anything. Well, perhaps we know three things. The first is that the puppet presidency of the Gupta plaything is wobbling like a crème caramel in a typhoon. Secondly, the ANC has just gone from an outright loss in 2019 to somewhere near a narrow win. And thirdly, if you go to your window right now, you ...

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