Tomorrow is the day that South Africans will be marching. In Pretoria, Cape Town and Durban, we’re going to come out in our thousands, hopefully even millions, to march against corruption.
I love political marches and the camaraderie that comes with them. The singing, the toyi-toying and the feeling of being united. It’s an old hippie activist thing.
So I’m painting my banner and digging out my shorts, walking shoes and megaphone.
The problem is, we’re in the middle of a heatwave. It’s hot. Really hot.
BB suggested I skip the march and hang out with him by the pool. And the thought of diving in headfirst, swimming, sipping cocktails and having pool sex is really tempting.
Argh. How to make a decision?
If I march, I will get sunburned, hot, tired and irritable but I will feel really good.
If I swim, I will still get sunburned and hot but I will at least have sex.
I’m remembering the last time I had pool sex.
Which actually, was completely overrated. I hate holding my breath underwater, I lose sensation, I know one of us is going to drown – probably me – and god, it all just feels rubbery.
There is nothing good about pool sex.
But there is something really good about marches.
And I don’t think BB needs me nearly as much as my country.
So that’s it. I may march in a bikini and use the water to pour over my head. But I’m going to join the millions of South Africans and march for a better future.
And feel really good that way.
Viva South Africa, Viva.