Deputy Speaker, Mr President, hon members, the story is told of a high-school boy who was fluffing his mathematics and when his father scolded him and urged him to pull up his socks, the young man replied: "Don't worry, Dad, I don't have to work so hard to get my maths right. After all, I plan to be a weatherman when I finish school."
Obviously the young man did not know that weather forecasters need some knowledge of maths, geography, physics and these days, IT, to function in their jobs. He had not heard of Antarctica; he knew nothing about aviation and agriculture, where weather forecasting plays a vital role. To him, the weatherman has an easy life because he doesn't have to work hard to get anything right.
Some of us are beginning to feel as if the philosophy and attitude of this young man are creeping in on us as a nation; that we are slowly moving away from the example set by the likes of Steve Biko, Onkgopotse Tiro, Mangaliso Sobukwe and, of course, Nelson Mandela, whose legacy we honoured with the opening of Parliament this year.
Mandela's legacy is tough and lofty. It is a weighty blend of honour, sincerity, sacrifice, hard work, commitment, patience, endurance, patriotism and selfless service to others and to your country. It seems these admirable values are fading in our public life. In their place we see the relentless pursuit of easy or illicit riches acquired as quickly as possible and by any means necessary.
We know that our kids learn more by watching us than taking instructions from us. Don't be surprised by the reply, given verbally or otherwise, when we try to motivate them to improve their school work: "Don't worry, mom", they might say, "I don't have to work hard at school. After all, I plan to go into tendering when I finish school."
They would know that you don't have to be skilled or knowledgeable to win a tender. You need only be connected through family, political affiliation, the golf course or social drinking. You need only be that kind of weatherman.
As we coax our sons and daughters to do their maths with application and diligence, they might just reply, "Don't worry, dad, I don't have to get my maths right, because when I leave school I want to be a councillor or a municipal manager."
From where they sit, our kids might gain the impression that councillors and municipal managers don't have to be competent or apply themselves to the task of delivering services to the citizens. They don't have to be responsible. The kids can see dirty streets, potholes everywhere, uncollected refuse, and yet the municipal manager is living a conspicuously good and easy life. It seems we might be nurturing a society that worships bling, but eschews hard work, honesty, service and commitment.
Every reasonable man and woman in our country should find it easy to embrace the five priorities adopted by government, and we pray that they succeed. These priorities would easily be realised if every man and women in every classroom in our schools, in every ward in our clinics and hospitals, in every municipal chamber and office, in every government office at provincial and national level, did his or her work with competence, dedication and honesty.
This would only be possible if these officials and municipal managers were appointed through a rigorous and competitive process, and they were appointed after answering the question: What can you do? Instead of the question: Who are you connected to? And when every man and woman does his or her work diligently and competently, there will be no reason for any citizen to phone the President in order to get an ID, or to have the President talking about teachers preparing their lessons here in Parliament. That should be a given in an environment where things work.
The grand bonus is that when all of us do an honest day's work, we can go back to our sons and daughters at home and, looking them straight in the eye, say, "My son, my girl, work hard for your future." And being the perceptive kids that they are, who learn by watching, they would reply, "Yes, dad; yes, mama." Then we would be a people worthy of Mandela, and not a nation of weathermen. Thank you very much. [Applause.]