My fellow Politicsweb contributor Douglas Gibson asked why the ANC governs so badly earlier this week. He compares the third world dump that Johannesburg has become with the pristine state of Cape Town and comes to the conclusion that it must have something to do with the party running the municipality. Bang on the nail Douglas and, in this instance, we'll overlook the fact that you're a past Chief Whip of the DA and that an election is barely a year away.
As many of my readers know I am now long of a property in Somerset West and struggling to sell the property in Johannesburg. Despite the proximity of wine farms and beautiful scenery the decision to move to the Western Cape after 32 years in Johannesburg was solely motivated by the fact that things seem to work better down there.
I spoke to one of my new neighbours and she told me that dealing with people at the local vehicle licensing office or home affairs is a pleasure. She even tried to convince me that the traffic cops will stop and help you should they see you have broken down on the N2. We haven't seen that sort of service for years in Jo'burg. Here we prefer our traffic cops fat and brutish and always looking for a bribe.
The Joburg property market is known to be sluggish at the moment and we've only been on the market for just under four months. Friends took over a year to sell their house. One of the problems is the availability of home loans and our property is on the market at above the magic level of R2.5 mln. Since we're not in any great hurry to sell we're happy to hang on for a higher price but we know we are going to have to drop our original asking price. The problem isn't the house, it's the neighbourhood.
Although we're on a main road, the state of the pavements and the piles of litter are appalling. I clean the pavement outside my house on a regular basis but many of my neighbours don't bother. Their view is that they pay their rates so somebody else should be cleaning up. And that's part of our problem. As rubbish accumulates outside a house it becomes an invitation to drop more rubbish because, after all, who's going to notice?
So as I walk down to my local Woollies I kick through discarded burger containers, crushed coke cans and all sorts of malodorous detritus. There used to be plastic rubbish bins for people to dispose of their litter but they disappeared long ago; either torn off the lampposts or melted as they were ideal fireplaces for local arsonists with nothing better to do.