I have been thinking about Elon Musk’s new job in the Trump administration. They have chosen the name “DOGE” as homage to the infamous crypto currency for his new department. The full name for this ministry is the Department of Government Efficiency.
It got me thinking about what I would do in this role. However, I soon realised that I would not be able to fulfill my obligation. It wouldn’t be too long before I wanted to klap Trump in the mouth resulting in my incarceration. This would be a problem for me because Elon would already have closed the prison for middle aged, privileged guys, resulting in me having to share a bunk with four of P Diddy’s closest mates.
So, I’ve turned my attention closer to home in the hope that President Ramaphosa calls on my limited skills to effect change here in the (not so) rainbow nation. The first thing we need is a name for my new department. Actually, seeing as we have ministries for everything in South Africa, I think I require a ministry all of my own.
MONEY – The Ministry of No Excessive Yield would be mine to manage, and I’m going to be doing more cutting than Lorena Bobbitt on her best day. I may even adopt Javier Gerardo Milei’s playbook. If you don’t know who this is, please do Google. I suspect that my President may not allow me to go that far – so we will have to temper my actions somewhat. The first thing I’m doing is slashing budgets for sleek black German Sedans. There is absolutely no need for my fellow ministers to travel around in ten car caravans.
Ministers will get a Suzuki Swift. Deputy Ministers will be allocated a pool car, a second hand i20. They will need to advocate for it's use based on the importance of the meeting or event that they need to travel to. Members of Parliament can buy their own cars like everyone else.
Of course, this means that ministers will have to cut back on their security detail – there is only so much room in a small Japanese hatchback. So, each minster can only have one bodyguard.
Deputies must fend for themselves like everyone else. Each minster will need to justify their portfolio. For example, the Minister of Small Business will have to demonstrate that they have the ability to run a small business. Candidates will submit resumes based on their experience of turning small local startups into global Corporations. The Minster of Education needs to have 15 years of teaching experience turning delinquent teenagers into PHD candidates.
It goes without saying that all parliamentarians will send their children to public schools. Public hospitals are compulsory for all elected officials. The Minister of Defense will definitely need to be a soldier. One who has fought in a war more serious than the one fought in the canteen queue.
Preferably they will need to have shown how they helped win the war. This will stop any civilians applying, purely for the thrill of wearing a medal encrusted jacket with some gold embroidering. The Minister of Sport will be subjected to monthly weight checks. They need to have won some kind of medal in their sporting careers in an age group older than under 15b.
Somewhere someone is currently in charge of Government stationary. Someone else oversees Government toilet items. I’m issuing an immediate audit of these two departments. It’s going to be revealing what we currently pay for paper – both kinds.
I’m closing down the Union Buildings – no one wants to actually live in Pretoria. For that matter the judiciary can also move out of Bloemfontein for the same reason. I’m centralizing everything in Cape Town. This means that members no longer require free flights, all their work is in the Mother City …. all within walking distance of each other.
Free housing, free food, free electricity for our esteemed elected members – all gone. They can pay for it like the rest of us. And this is just the start – my first 100 days in office. Imagine how far we can go.
I do envisage one tiny problem. All of this is going to make me extremely unpopular with my fellow parliamentarians. Therefore, I will require a security detail of many burly gentlemen. This means that I will need cars – preferably big sleek shiny ones following me around, about 12 of them, with the requisite blue lights.
Of course, my importance needs to be appreciated. This will be accomplished by gifting me a fairly large dwelling somewhere in the fancier parts of the Atlantic Seaboard. But just think how much money we can save as a nation by making me the Minister of Money.
Pretty soon we will have a budget surplus, our ratings will improve to AAA+. The rand will be stronger than the USD.
I can see it all now – Mr. President, I’m willing and stand ready to serve our winning nation. Just call me Money.
