Windy City

Crime is no more out of control than Manto’s wig in the Windy City. That’s Port Elizabeth for all those who’ve never had the pleasure. Not the pleasure of Manto of course, but the pleasure of visiting PE. It’s no secret that the ministers congregate regularly amongst the pebbles of the Port Elizabethan coastline to skip stones, grunt and occasionally talk politics. This tradition began many years ago when a freak Ricoffee shortage forced Thabo and the other ministers out of cabinet in search of new ‘pick-me-ups’. Thabo often reminisces how nothing can clear his head like the fresh sea air. Sea air and Ricoffee. Ngconde Balfour agrees. He is often caught squashing sandcastles or chasing see-gulls into the water. Manto has taken to the sea-life in the rock-pools. She constantly explores the natural world for new ingredients to make salves and elixirs. One day she will cure the common cold, she giggles to herself.

They each sniff the salty vapour with upturned noses. The wind howls against their heads, these heads of state. And they forget our troubles.