Ah! The strike. Working class South Africa’s most favourite and prized pass time. Orchestrated to inconvenience the innocent , grant the strikers a few days off work and hit the vile employer where it hurts most – the pocket
Unfortunately, I, alongside thousands (if not millions) of others were part of the mass of innocents who have to suffer due to a labour dispute. Brought on via a chain effect from the doctors earlier this year, the municipal workers all over South Africa decided (after much bickering behind doors) that strike action was necessary. Then came the logic lacking of it all. As part of their strike plans, the bright sparks took to the streets and opened up rubbish bags and spread their contents on the streets. The catch? It’s their job to clean it! Why give yourself more work? If you are that desperate you can prostitute yourself at night! That will be more profitable and will leave the streets clean, well, sort of. Besides, they won’t be paid extra for cleaning up the mess they made! I highly doubt it is a pre-requisite of a civil-service job to have to be a blithering idiot who can’t think with any sense.
Then the chain’s link extended its rust link to the lower income members of Rhodes University’s staff. The price we have to pay is a dirty campus (municipal worker style) and horrible food. In earnest, I do abhor most strike action because it is irritating and looks horrible. However, I do know that strikes have to be granted by a labour judge and that is after repeated breakdowns in negotiations. Thus, if it were not for the fact that I get hideous dog vomit trying to pass as lunch, I would support the strike. Yet, because I do, please stop and get back to work! The terraces are dirty, the toilets smell and the food looks like it belongs in the toilet.
Post Scriptum: The title should be said with a French accent. Get it?
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