Child abuse, child maintenance, when does a child actually start winning.

Why are child maintenance court battles such long drawn out affairs? Why do all the parties concerned have to go back and forth, often from one city to another with flights and time off work, both rather costly these days, to be told by the magistrate that this or that is needed and to come back in one month, or two months, or whatever time to carry on the case?
Why is there not one magistrate allocated to the case instead of whoever happens to be on duty the day of the court appearance? Most of all why are travel expenses paid to the party who is being challenged for not paying the child maintenance while the other party often has to hire a lawyer to state their case as the courts are not helping them at all.
How often do we hear that the dribs and drabs that have been paid over for maintenance have in fact had to go to pay lawyers fees, and we all know that the lawyers will always say you owe it to the child/children to get the maintenance for them.
In my ultimate and very learned wisdom I suggest to the courts that a date be set for the court hearing and each party is to be instructed to bring their latest bank statements (the usual 3 months) , proof of DNA testing if required, and any other relevant information the courts might need such as general monthly expenses, how many children are involved etc. etc.
Then all parties concerned to sit down and discuss and make decisions there and then as to how the maintenance should be paid and who is responsible for paying for what.
Any breach of the agreement and the guilty party should be locked up. Is not providing for ones child a form of child abuse?
Instead the whole rigmarole is dragged out often over years, the children go without, everyone's time is wasted and as so often is the case it is the innocent who are made to suffer.
If we do not speak up and out about cases such as these nothing is going to change. Come on let's all start showing what is happening to these children and take their fights to the very public forum of the internet.

Kenyan Community Initiative Support: Fighting Malaria

Kenyan Community Initiative Support: Fighting Malaria

Highways, freeways, motorways and byways

Sunday afternoon, not much to do except sit and chatter about all and everything in our world, and as the conversation ebbed and flowed we began to discuss the state of the highways, motorway, freeways and roads in general in Gauteng.
It seems no matter which highway one drives on these day there are road works going full swing somewhere along the way. The most obvious of these being the Danie Joubert Freeway in the Centurion area and the Western Bypass in Johannesburg.
No matter what time of the day or night it is there are always lanes closed along these routes and so as traffic builds up and then spreads out there is no way of knowing what time one will reach ones destination.
I am so happy that I do not have to do the morning and evening road rumba any more, living in a small village does, for me at least, have many advantages. How does one calculate at what time they should leave for work these days, how does one arrange to fetch children at a certain time, and how does one plan for anything when there is always the worry at the back of the mind as to whether the final destination will be reached in time?
How is it that our illustrious forefathers, who built these roads in the first place, had so little planning and forecasting abilities? Did they not envisage even the minutest growth in the motor vehicle population of the Gauteng area? Even back in those good old days surely figures should have been checked and plans made for expansions should, in the far distant future of probably about five years, things begin to change and traffic get heavier? Obviously, what is obvious to us was not so obvious to the minds that were, even when these motorways were built ordinary folk like you and I were wondering how long they would cope. Now suddenly South Africa springs into action as the Football World Cup will be held here in 2010, so we rush around like made things trying to expand where there is not much space for expansion.
The public being their usual placid selves accept that perhaps they should leave an hour earlier for work and as the stagnant and stationary traffic bellows out exhaust fumes we all sit gaily in our vehicles chatting on cell phones, listening to the radio, counting the porta loos along the roadworks and swearing blindly at any other road user who happens to annoy us.
We all know that what they are inconveniencing us with at present will not be enough by the end of 2010 and so I have to ask my fellow road users, "After 2010 then what?"
If you know the answer please let me know.
One final question, in the end who do we blame, the apartheid era, the post apartheid era, both the above or just the idiots who in the first place did not have the insight to start the job properly so that as and when the need arose things could have been done without so much fuss.

A world washed clean the Johannesburg/Mpumalanga road

Last week Friday I set out with a friend to travel to Nelspruit (a city that I thought was a small town). It is about a four hour drive from Johannesburg on a long and meandering road where the scenery changes from the flatish lands of Gauteng to the rather mountainous hills and dales of Mpumalanga.
As we drove along I could not help thinking that I had never before seen the vegetation that lush and green anywhere, or at any time, in Southern Africa. There were waterfalls glistening in the sunshine as they made their precarious way down steep hillsides and into the rivers below. A lot of the roadside trees were in full bloom and their colours stood out for miles as if they were bright beacons of hope casting out joy to all and sundry passing by. The air was fresh and clean with not a sign of city smog to keep it hanging heavily from the skies.


We saw birds floating on sunbeams and heard their happy cries as they celebrated the richness of the gifts of nature. This world had really been washed clean and one could almost feel the negativity in ones own being dissipate into nothingness as we wound our way past pine forests and fruit farms, gently grazing cattle and sheep and countryside alive with insects all singing as they warmed themselves up in the mid-morning sun. As the day heated up it became more humid yet the air remained light and so we continued our journey in comfort.
Nelspruit came into view, long straight streets criss-crossing each other in an attempt to bring all into the hub of the city centre. The flamboyant trees with their majestic bright orangey/red flowers reminded me of childhood days when I had scrambled up the enormous specimen that stood guard over the driveway at my parents home, happy days and happy memories.
We had a wonderful weekend and met delightful folk, yet come Monday morning were both glad to know that we were returning to our own homes. We left Nelspruit at about eight-thirty and decided we would amble our way back to the fast moving world of Gauteng. The drive was cool and as we gazed out at the passing countryside I was glad to notice that the Gods had placed a protective and gentle mantle over the hills and valleys, a soft promise that wherever we are there is always a sign that so to are They.

Dancing Politicians

Why I ask, is it that politicians always seem to be moving around, almost dancing, whenever they are rallying around to practice the art of trumpery on their loyal and unsuspecting followers?
With feet stamping and arms gesticulating they declare to all around them, and the world at large, what sincere, humble and honest folk they really are. They are only there to voice the opinions of the masses, and they do totally understand the position of those who are unemployed and will certainly do their utmost to bring the country out of whatever bad situation it seems to be in at the moment.
I wonder do they stand in front of a full length mirror to practice facial expressions and body movements to ensure that they will keep the audience enthralled with their wise words and promised forecasts?
As they gaily go tub-thumping from one side to another with voices filled with exaggerations of what they will do for the country and of pie crust promises that anyone with any form of brain matter would easily see through and never believe.
Do they watch replays of the opposition to see if their dance moves are better than their own, or do they pay vast, but very worth it, amounts of money to have a choreographer design the entire show?
Would we not perhaps get a better leader and parliament if elections in South Africa were done on the same basis as "Strictly come Dancing"? For one they would probably get a better viewing audience and then all the participants would each have an equal turn to show their spins and pirouettes to the spellbound spectators. There would be weekly voting and the competitor who got the least votes would of course have to leave the show immediately. There could be no chance of one participant helping or supporting another, each would have to stand or dance on their own.
I am sure more dances could be added to the agenda to ensure that all possible moves and cantatas were displayed and heard from all angles.
For once the common man in the street might get a more truthful picture of what he was letting himself in for and therefore think very carefully before he made his cross on any voting form.
Politicians are all for power and glory, it is such a pity that they only want them for themselves!

The Gravy Train

Surely it is time that the South African Gravy Train was put out to pasture or whatever it is that we do to Gravy Trains when they have travelled the length and breadth of the entire country for so long. I wonder how long the life span has been on the wheels of this very overused and over crowded form of transport. As it has chugged along the tracks of South Africa how many coaches have had to be added to hold all the gravy that has been diligently collected by the passengers.
I also wonder has the driver ever been instructed to stop at some lowly and isolated village to share a bit with the locals, I doubt it very much.
It is time for the voters to derail the train, share out the massive bounty with the poor and put the train on display, with wheels firmly locked so that at last our illustrious politicians will actually have to work for their wages and perhaps with a bit of luck work for us as well.