So that’s it, then. The 16 Days of No Violence against Women and Children campaign is just about over, so we can settle back into our normal way of life. If Mrs Foster gets on my tits I’ll give her a good clout, and, while I’m at it, I might as well give the little bastard a hiding before he grows big enough to klap me back.

I’ve always wondered what the purpose of the whole thing is. This year our deeply caring government set aside R3-million for the project, which is about R3-million too much, if you ask me. The murderers and rapists are, I presume, supposed to slink off shamefacedly into the sunset, vowing to sin no more, no more. As we all know, no amount of posturing and waving banners will get them to do that. Scumbags don’t care, and they’re not going to change. Anyway, if they need to hit somebody and the wife’s out of bounds for a couple of weeks, who are they going to pick on? Me? You? Thabo? Some poor 80-year-old pensioner guy who’s just trying to get through the day?

I feel so strongly about this idiotic waste of time, money and resources that I wrote a little poem about the whole shindig. Here goes:

Sixteen days of non- violence? I can’t see the sense!
For the rest of the year she must mount a defence?
And if you’re born with a penis you’re right out of luck,
for the bloody do-gooders just don’t give a fuck.

The vermin and rabble who live to attack
Can pick any old man and give him a whack.
For the rest of the year, girls, you’re in the same boat.
If you think this makes sense, then you won’t get my vote!

We all should be able to live without fear,
So why focus on women for a fortnight a year?
Pain knows no gender, nor keeps track of the time.
Assault is assault, and it’s always a crime.

Take men, women, children — just protect the whole lot,
Let the cops do their duty and get with the plot.
Don’t think sixteen days without catching a clout
Will alter one bit what the rest is about.

Got a bit soppy towards the middle, didn’t it? Sorry — that’s just my feminine side coming out.

Bottom line: Chuck the R3-million into a kitty, and every year give R100 000 each to the 30 cops and public prosecutors who do the most towards getting rid of the violent scum who keep popping out of the woodwork. Or, better still, stage 3 000 public hangings. About R8 for each rope and R992 for the beer should do it.

Author

  • Durban photojournalist Gavin Foster writes mainly for magazines. His articles and photographs have appeared in hundreds of South African, American and British publications, and he's also instigated and researched stories for Carte Blanche. Winner of the Magazine Publishers Association of South Africa PICA Profile Writer of the Year Award in 2008. South African Guild of Motoring Journalists Motorcycle Journalist of the Year (Magazines) 2015/16/17. South African Guild of Motoring Journalists Motorcycle Journalist of the Year (Overall) 2015/16. South African Guild of Motoring Journalists Motorsport Journalist of the Year (Magazines) 2017 - Runner-Up 2015/16.

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Gavin Foster

Durban photojournalist Gavin Foster writes mainly for magazines. His articles and photographs have appeared in hundreds of South African, American and British publications, and he's also instigated and...

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