What is in the bag?

It was in 2001. We were inside a Student Parliament at the Technikon. In the midst of everybody bludgeoning their political opponents with intellectual arguments, an SRC colleague lamented those who went around the campus carrying "mystery things" inside their bags.

'You are always carrying these bags everywhere you go. You speak in hushed tones wherever you are; what are you carrying inside those bags? We want to know!' Mpho asked forcefully. The parliament was in a raucous as everybody laughed at this lament.

It had become a norm that those who attended to the work of political organisations more than they did the lectures were coming to Student Parliament to push their agenda. Well, everybody did. If you are not following what I am talking about, think of how the name "academic ancestors" came about.

And when their agenda was challenged by the opposing political foes, they always threatened to pull out a "classified document" of Senate, of Technikon Council, or some very secret minutes from one of Minister Kader Asmal's very high-level meetings.

All those “important” documents, they used to say, were right inside their bags. You know those bags which you will get when you are attending a something-something Conference, or Congress, with a date and what have you? Yes, those ones. Those bags proved that indeed these particularly knowledgeable individuals go to very important places, and therefore they certainly have important information in there.

Many of us fell for these antics. We believed their convenient truths. As a result they wielded influence over us. There was a guy. People, when Francis (I forget his surname) stood up to speak, everybody became silent. Sekgowa sa daaiman ne se le blind, stru. I cannot remember him speaking his brilliant English whilst looking you in the eye. If we were inside a building, he’d be speaking to the roof. If we were outside, the sky, Baba.

And there was a famous culprit of "classified" documents inside emblazoned bags. Moatlhodi (I forget his surname.) I give credit to this guy for being the first one to break the news to us that the Twin Towers in the U.S.A have just been hit. It was 11 September 2001 when he came running down the steps of the Auditorium, rudely interrupting the Chairperson of Student Parliament, to effect ‘Excigency!’

Do not ask me how the news reached him. There was no facebook and twitter in 2011. Nokia 3310 (the best at that time) was still struggling with network and surely the international calls monopolized by Vodacom and MTN were exhorbitant. We also know that what happened today used to reach the nation tomorrow because Sowetan and The Star were still Gods of daily news. The least said about SABC radio, the better because when Osama allegedly “hit”, Metro FM’s drive-time show must’ve been playing Tamia and Boyz II Men, while Thuso Motaung was irritating the taxi drivers and owners with endless commuter complaints through Bua Le Yona Mokganni on Lesedi FM.

Those of us who were still wet behind our ears, politically speaking, and sweating heavily under our oversized SRC suits, were like, ‘#sigh# Why must I stop the presentation of my report midway to marvel at the two planes which actually flew into the high-rise buildings in the U.S.A?’ Do not judge me. Many of us did not know who Osama Bin Laden was until September 11 happened. And, to us, President Bush was just another American president with innocent intentions and big ears.

The terrible thing was that not only was our parliamentary business interrupted, but the sight of students ejecting themselves out of the library with their bags barely zipped and asking ‘what happened? Is the campus on fire or something?’ was great to behold.

Anyway, the U.S.A shock gradually wore off. We carried on lynching each other inside the parliament, much into the night. I forget whether the issue of “what’s in the bag” was responded to, suffice it to say that perhaps Moatlhudi used the Twin Tower mayhem to outmaneuver the question from Mpho. I also wonder if that culture of employing classified information inside the bag, to enforce a person’s credibility on the debate, is still continuing to this day of google and facebook. 

I was reminded of this "what's in the bag” incident when I saw the picture of a Kaizer Chiefs-supporting fella with a (Black people call it) paperbag on his head. Attached to the bag is the white (we call it) cardboard with the message LEAGUE IN THE BAG. He is sauntering in the grand stands and the fellow KC supporters, like some politically inept students that we were in 2001, look certainly impressed with his self-assured, and, if I might add, pre-mature frolics.

So if my former colleague, Mpho, was seeing this picture, surely he’d ask that famous question in a slightly different way, ‘Where is that bag now? What is inside that bag now?’ And of course I imagine that Moatlhudi, whom I suspect he is a KC supporter, will budge into the discussion by saying ‘Excigency, comrades! Motsepe has hit the twin gates of Naturena and he has, thus, made off with our PSL trophy!’