Number Nineteen 9.10.2022

 

Elephants are not cute and cuddly and they are not fond of cup-cakes

On 27 June 2022 I published an article on three elephants living at the Johannesburg Zoo. What happened to Lammie, Mopani & Ramadiba after this date?

Children’s books portray elephants as huge, cuddly, friendly animals that you can keep next to your child’s bed at night. These animals are wild, huge, not cuddly, not cute, definitely not something to play with. The one in the picture is obviously created for your adorable child, who is probably sitting comfortably on your lap, to enjoy. This painting creates an impression of a pink elephant at a kid’s party with a silly three-pointed hat on who is enjoying cupcakes! Pink elephants – that is what makes this story so …

That is the reason why elephants and other wild creatures such as snakes, baboons, rhinos and more are kept behind bars. They are wild. They are dangerous. And we, the human species are their biggest enemy.

Elephants are huge, powerful and they will wipe their arse off on you

When you are in the wild, you are trespassing on their territory and not the other way round. This piece of wisdom is practical and coming from a client of mine who was once chased by an elephant; you don’t stop your car, get out of it and start a civilized conversation. You are the intruder and you back off. A tame elephant is still a wild beast!

Chief Stephen Fritz, a community leader and the third applicant in the matter, notes:

“We are the first People of South Africa, and, in our view, imprisoning our sacred Elephants, so named, Lammie, Mopane and Ramadiba showcases the past and the present will to humiliate and disrespect our culture and our heritage.  For many years I have felt ashamed and powerless: I am, therefore, relieved that a large number of experts and scientists have united, bringing together a wealth of knowledge to offer these Elephants a powerful defence.  Today, we are experiencing the results of climate change which include droughts and fires, for the sake of all South Africans we need to show respect towards our Rain Makers and Healers the Elephants.” [source: https://emsfoundation.org.za/category/towards-freedom-project/] [emphasis added].

A powerful defence on behalf of elephants in Johannesburg Zoo! Applicants legal team is high-powered and so is the team for the Respondents. The experts on behalf of the elephants are highly qualified. And I expect that the experts on behalf of the Zoo will be just as highly qualified.

This is an impressive story and it will attract a tough, vigorous response from the Respondent; I am intrigued by this lot. My very first reaction was, that this application is somewhat wild, novel and surely somewhat whimsical! Then I started reading the papers and I changed my mind; they might have an arguable case. Good luck to them. It seems as if there is an international trend in respect of similar matters.

What is going to happen? If the matter is decided one way or the other, the one party will claim victory for justice’s sake while the other will … well, let’s wait and see. Well, looking back on my career as a practising lawyer, the other party will claim that they were denied a proper trial and that there is no justice in this country of ours – it is a probable scenario that is waiting to play out. Oh yes, and to top it all, the judge got it all wrong!

I am in contact with the Applicants and I am waiting on their reply to my e-letter. When I know more, you will know more. Stay tuned.

Please write me your story about your interaction with these stately animals: neelscoertse@wirelessza.co.za

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Number Eighteen 8.12.2022

 

Ian McKellar: NOW WE REALLY LIVE

And the 2022 is coming to a close.

For some it was a rough and tumble year, for others a year of great heartache. And others are still undeciding. We had our share of heartache as well.

For me, primarily, it was a year to adapt from living in a house for almost 41 years to another home and a much, much smaller garden. I learnt a lot of invaluable lessons and looking forward to the future to learn more lessons. And more stories! Some of which I will tell, some I won’t.

I had an uplifting zoom meeting with an author of a book NOW WE REALLY LIVE, Ian McKellar. He is a knowledgeable person. The edition I read was published during 1984. Talking to him, information is rolling from him and he is still excited about it. He first published it during 1973 – I was 23 years old; next year it would be 50 years since he first published it.

He told me that he did not attend Biblical Seminary and he is a graduated engineer. And that was, what I think, was the saving grace between him and me having a very robust discussion about him writing this book. Engineers are robust people. They can give it and take it on the chin, so to speak.

At times during our zooming, I had to remind myself not to cross-examine him. He is not a witness under oath in a court of law. And yet, I kept on with my questioning him. And he kept on coming back with cogent and well-established facts. It was only at the end of our conversation, that he disclosed to me that he is an engineer and not a theologian. And that explained to me his attitude.

We agreed.

And we disagreed.

And we remain civil about it.

What is even more remarkable is that he agrees to zoom again and to keep the conversation going.

I am in the process of researching the history of the Christian Church as was set out in the Book of Acts of the Apostles according to St. Luke. I obviously will look further afield but the foundation is in Scriptures.

Sir Ian McKellen

I cannot find him on social media but located a powerful miveo by SirIan McKellen. Please do yourself the favour and listen with an open mind to what Sir Ian is telling us. Stories. Those are the things we are telling to all and sundry.

Over the years, especially, in a legal practice, I accumulated lots of stories. Having sat on the High Court Bench as an assessor and later as an acting Judge, I heard a lot of stories. My practice is alive with stories.

Stories. This my 18^th consecutive story. And you have a story to tell. Some of you have indeed made contact with me with stories. Thank you for that.

Please write me your story: neelscoertse@wirelessza.co.za  

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Number Seventeen 7.12.2022

Hymie Marnewick yesterday in Rivonia

While I was standing in a very long, slow moving, lethargic queue at the ATM, I met a girl with lively big brown eyes, looking very inquisitively at me. We are also in a queue waiting for Christmas to appear and to give out gifts - and the people look tired and irritated. Nothing exciting is going on in their lives. That is how I see them.

“Hallo, young one.” I said to her. Life still holds lots of secrets, mysteries and stories and songs. There was a cool breeze and I looked around where it came from? Yes, you guessed it – all the adults, who were deep in their own thoughts, ears were flapping. There is conversation to listen to. And this conversation is not about Cyril Ramaphosa or any other old politician’s shenanigans. An oupa and a four-year-old girl starting chatting.

She greeted me: “Hallo, I am four years old.”

Me: “Wow, four years, you are getting on in years, hey?” She nodded in agreement. And kept looking at me.

“Tomorrow, I am five years.”

“Tomorrow it is new year.”

“Tomorrow, I go to big school.”

“I can read. I can write. They are teaching me at school.”

“Tomorrow …” and she kept on telling me about tomorrow. Tomorrow is an important day in a four-year old’s life. She’s lived a lifetime already.

The aunt, being the adult in our company, explains about tomorrow as if I don’t understand. I do understand about tomorrow!

Me: “Do you go to school?” Of course, but it is holiday today and so, she is not at school today. She is also standing in the queue with her auntie because mother is at work.

Me: “You are very clever?”

She: “Yes, I know.” And that settled it. Clever young one.

Me: “Can you sing me a song?” And she started singing but looking that a way, away from me.

“No, young lady I can’t hear a word. Look at me.” It was the ABC song – right thru to Z. And I, as a grandpa, know the same song. I helped her to sing it and to complete it.

She turned to her aunt and whispered something; I overheard it: “Auntie, I am shy.”

“O really? I don’t think so. Not with you singing in public in front of all the people in the queue and you telling me that I don’t know where you are living.” All in one breath.

“How about something else?”

“Hickory dickory dock, the mouse rans up the clock.”

Sorry, not that one.

It was actually “Baba black sheep have you any wool? Yes sir, yes sir three bags full.” I happen to know that one too; I also know the song she did not sing. I am certain she knows that song that she did not sing, as well; please bear in mind that we all know by now, that she is clever.

So, we were chatting and singing choruses, in the queue that is no longer that long anyway, and suddenly the queue was not so long after all.

The aunt and she, very cautiously, approached the money vending machine [I hope there is enough in the account to satisfy their needs for the day] and I waited my turn at a different ATM. We lost contact. She, and her aunt went their way. And I went mine. I do hope that they got what they wanted to from the vending machine. They didn’t spend a long time with the machine and I didn’t see Auntie putting something in her private banking Boobs.

Off, I went to the coffee shop with free wi-fi because the tree fellows felled the internet cable in my street. I was reliably informed, by the chairman of the body corporate, who employed the contractor whose able workmen not only fell the trees, but cut into the internet and stopped the caboodle, that the ISP is on its way as well as the insurance guys. A high-level investigation is on the go. And we are without internet drinking endless coffees at coffee shops.

I met Hymie Marnewick at the coffee shop. That is where he comes regularly to have coffee and something to eat and to conduct his international business. He tells me he does not have a single client in the RSA; he conducts business internationally. And he wonders what his son, who is 10 years old, will be able to do when he is grown up?

Indeed!

What will that boy be able to do?

Daddy tells me that one thing he knows for sure is that by the time Boetie will go to university it will be very convenient: he will attend classes from his bedroom. Oy, really? Yes, that is life and you have to adapt. Will Boetie be able to use a screwdriver? A pliers? A hand saw? Will he be able to know which way is the right way for a screw to be driven into the wooden plank? Or, he might earn enough to employ a handyman to the work. A handyman will be employed to change the light bulbs in his multi-storeyed house.

Me: “Your son will lose out on eyeball-to-eyeball contact and that is vital, I think. What do you think?”

Hymie: “Yes, it might be so. That is why he goes horse-riding and all sorts of social interactive groups. He must learn to interact with people.” Laudable! And still Boetie will miss out. With a dad like this, I am convinced he will look after his son’s social relationships.

On my way out, I said goodbye and God bless, whether you believe in a God or not, be blessed. He just gave me a lookout and then smiles and acknowledges it. Thank you, Hymie.

On my way to the parking garage, I met a lady friend of ours. She is shopping and Hubbie is at home minding his own business.

All in all, I had an enjoyable morning trying to publish my blog-writeups hoping that the cable is restored to good health.

Hymie, thank you for your permission to write about you. And God bless you and yours. 

How was your day so far? Write me your story please: neelscoertse@wirelessza.co.za

 

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Number 16 6.12.2022

 

Yesterday, besides the violent weather, someone cut the cables in our street and there is now no internet connection. Early morning everything was fine, up and working. I went to art class – the last for 2022 and had a good time there. Once again it was a show and tuition and I was certainly not disappointed.

That is the reason why I haven’t posted my write up yesterday. I was running around to get a place with internet services, found Woolies in Rivonia. I started surfing, and all of a sudden after a particularly violent thunder/lightning flash, we lost all connectivity.

Why on earth would he want to do that? Why cut the cables? That is a question that permeates our lives all the time? What motivates people to what they are doing? Destructive emotions – that is what drives people to commit to crime. Well, that is an extremely simple answer to a hugely complicated phenomenon.

Relax. For the moment. These cables were cut accidentally by tree-cutters. And insurance is looking into it. But it started me off on a nice story. 

I recall me prosecuting a young girl who was accused of shoplifting. She stole baby nappies and food for her child because she was battling to survive; the father just had a “good time” with her and pushed off when the baby was born. The evidence was against her; she was found guilty. The magistrate looked at me and asked: “Mr. Prosecutor, what shall the court do with her?” The easy and glib answer, that provided me with an escape route was: sentencing is in the hands of the court.

I did not take that easy route; that was a cop out. I have in numerous cases, before and subsequently, addressed the court on what I thought an appropriate sentence would have been. This time I told the court: “Now, that she was found guilty of theft, please be lenient on her and I suggest that she be warned and discharged.” The court took the advice seriously and then told her not to steal again but to approach the shop owner for a donation.

What motivates people [mostly young men] to do stunts like scaling the highest, tallest and most dangerous buildings and constructions in the world? Vitaliy Raskalov and Mustang Wanted are some of the most famous of these daring young fellows. What kind of motivation does it take to do this?

Please tell me your thoughts: neelscoertse@wirelessza.co.za

 

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Number fifteen 5 December 2022

FRANK MCCOURT

Frank McCourt’s ANGELA’S ASHES is a modern-day classic with more than 70 re-prints. He is from Irish-descent who was born in the USA and that was where he spent more than 30 years teaching children. Angela’s Ashes is a sad, sombre piece of literature. He describes the death of his baby sister, Margaret’s death in short, staccato sentences and the finishing grace was when he wrote: “She’s gone.”

He grew up hungry.

His siblings grew up hungry.

His mother was at the end of her tether; at times all she had to feed the children was water with sugar in it. He had to care for his brother and he also gave him sugar water. The was what they had. And the pain of being hungry.

Some-one, the other day, blurted out that she was once a good Roman Catholic. What does she mean by that? Well, being a lawyer who is interested in what people say and what they don’t say I latched onto this one. She said it loud and clear, that there was a time when she was a “good Catholic girl.”

And I wanted to know what does she mean? And what happened. She did not volunteer much more detail except that Bruce Springsteen’s UNDER WESTERN STARS were the catalyst that catapulted her out of her faith. This was, for the moment, more than enough for me to explore a bit.

Why do people deconvert from their faith system/base? Scriptures tell me that God is caring for us. It tells me that He cares even for the sparrows; really? Yes, that is what you can read yourself in the Bible. And yet, there are probably millions in the world suffering from food shortages. It is not the only controversy surrounding the Christian faith; and it is nothing new. It is an age-old phenomenon. Might I venture and say that any faith is subject to lots of controversies.

I don’t have a clear-cut answer to this question. I am confronted by the realties just as you are and yet, I keep on believing in Christ. The only answer I have you may find in St Paul’s write up in 1 Corinthians Chapter 15 – that great philosophical exposition of the Christian faith. If you can break the fact that Christ was murdered, spent three days in the tomb, and then He was resurrected on the third day, then that is the death knell for the Christian faith. I still believe that. And my declaration is still: You are Christ, the Son of the Living God though I don’t have answer to most questions. And I state categorically that no one, and I repeat, no one on earth knows that answers.

People who are not Christian, face the exact same issues as I do; issues that are unresolved. Undecided. Unsettled. Undetermined. Pending. Unsolved. Unanswered. Debatable. Open to debate. Open to question. Doubtful. Moot. Up in the air.

Please write me you story: neelscoertse@wirelessza.co.za

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Number Fourteen 4 December 2022

 

Guinea Fowl - courtesy the internet

We will be living in Rivonia [not too far from Lilies Leaf Farm] for just on a year and what a blessing we’ve experienced. The “new” home is well kept and fully operational without needing repairs at all; we even have a working irrigation system going. Listening to some of the horrible stories’ friends tell us about their relocating to a “new” home, we are really and truly blessed. The garden is 70% smaller than the previous home and we get the opportunity to spend more time with our plants. I have such a lot of seedlings growing in my maternity ward.

Yesterday afternoon I had the most unique experience one can get while living in the city. I met some of the guinea fowls living in our area which is close by the Braamfontein Spruit. All of a sudden, we see an abundant bird life exploding around us. We also have Rietfontein Nature Reserve close by with porcupine, twisted and warped old trees; peace and tranquillity in the city. And the birds. And some buck.

Guinea Fowl - courtesy the internet

The other day my neighbour phoned me: “Neels, go outside and see guinea fowls are walking on your side of the pavement.” That alone took me back many years when I had guinea fowls in Morningside Sandton. I have lots of stories about these fascinating creatures. I had a special relationship with one of the males; we had shouting matches every other day; at times this got a bit noisy while you and your wife are having coffee on the stoep.

And then he got killed. Well, that is a sad story for another day. I am in no mood to tell that heart breaking story.

Yesterday was so special. It started a couple of days earlier on when I met this couple [I think they were married because they are always together]. A male guinea fowl and his female consort. Maybe she is the queens consort? I will ask them when I see them again.

They were running up and down the road and grass sidewalk trying desperately to enter through the palisade gate and fence. I greeted them and invited them to climb through. Yes, they were welcome to come into the enclosure. But, no, they wriggled to get through and eventually Madam made it. Hubbie became quite agitated and there was, what I think some sort of angst: he the other side of the palisade and she this side. I encouraged him and he squeezed through.

We walked home; they were walking next to me but at a respectful distance chatting to me as we go. We had a nice chat, while they were looking for all sorts of invisible things amongst the plants and grass. It was time for me to leave them and we said our good-byes. I left.

Yesterday, our visitors were on their way out when these two were on their way up from the bottom of the street to us standing on top. And then Madam saw me. She started to run. And I called her. Hubbie was not as keen to come; he had enough stuff to discover all over the place and he did not come any closer, keeping a keen eye on her. She ran towards me all the while talking to Hubbie encouraging him to join her. At least, she said to him, I am an old acquaintance of theirs, not so?

Eventually he came at bit closer. Reluctantly but he came. My friend standing next to me froze; he did not move; not making any noise; tense as tense can be; waiting and watching this lot unfolding in front of his eyes.  There she was; at arm’s length from us. She and I started chatting and he kept his distance. Eventually he joined the party and we three kept the conversation going. We had a long chat; I am sorry if you are unable to speak “Guinea Fowl” because you are losing out in life. Get a pair of birds, get training and enjoy life with the birds. It is worthwhile.

Suddenly, they turned around walking off, still making soft soothing noises as they took their leave of me and my friend.

Friend: “Oom Neels, do you do this every day?”

Me: “No. It was the very first time it happened.”

And I am longing for my guinea fowls of many years ago. They were special. They were unique. They were mine. They were …

Please write me your story: neelscoertse@wirelessza.co.za

 

 

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Number Thirteen 3 December 2022

 

Life-long learning!

I asked a Refugee client of mine what does that mean? His first reaction was: “I don’t know.”

“Ahgh!! I don’t buy that story. Think!”

And then he gave me a wonderful answer.

I asked my gardener this morning: “What does LIFE LONG LEARNING mean?”

Initial reaction: “I don’t know.”

Me: “Common!!! Think!”

And think he did. And gave an answer that is spot on.

Back to the Rwandan refugee – he is a very young man [22x] and bright. While I was waiting for him to arrive, I was busy writing and my bilingual dictionary was open on my desk. I pointed to it and told him the story of me still using dictionaries. He sat back in the chair; his reaction was priceless. “Wow! That is impressive!” I am 50 years his senior.

Life-long learning

That reminded me of an experience I had while practising at the Johannesburg Bar; I was in the law library and I heard a shuffle and instantly knew it was that doyen of advocates “walking.” Issy Maisels, QC. Arrived and he came into my direction. We greeted and he stood in front of a book shelve looking for his book.

He took it out.

Shuffled to a chair.

Sat down.

After about five minutes he got up. 

Closed the book and put it back on the shelve. He was the only one that was allowed by our strict dour old librarian to put books back.

And he shuffled out of the library. Yes, he greeted me when he left.

Five minutes – obviously he was just looking up one point of law and left. Satisfied with what he read.

Issy was about 92 years old.

Lifelong learning – a practical exercise in front of my eyes. Shall I ever forget this?

Another client, the guy with the Doctorate in Education who is jobless, prayed for me. I told him about the diagnosis that I am now diabetic and he prayed for healing. “Father God, I pray for Neels. Please heal him completely and give him long life because he still has a lot of work to do for us refugees.” What an experience!

Write me your story: neelscoertse@wirelessza.co.za

 

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