It’s a fair belief that children have since time immemorial behaved like hot mics — microphones that are left turned on and therefore broadcast what are meant to be private conversations.
Kids have always picked up talk by their elders and broadcast it, especially to the very person the gossip was about. This is best documented in Dennis the Menace, the boy in the American (not British) cartoon, whose “hot mic” antics have kept people around the world amused since the early 1950s.
The “hot mic” is a risk every elder takes by opening his or her mouth in front of kids. And every family has a treasure of stories about the embarrassment a child caused, innocently of course, by relating what they overheard about a family friend, a neighbour, or a relative.
The rural elders of yesteryear invented a way of “muting the mic”, so they could discuss sensitive matters without the worry that their words would be spread far and wide by kids who may have overheard their conversation. They simply used language that was way above the comprehension of kids (the hot mics of old).
The muting techniques of our elders might come in handy for finance minister Enoch Godongwana, minister in the presidency Khumbudzo Ntshavheni, and National Treasury director-general Duncan Pieterse, should they be overwhelmed by the temptation to say something about those who have given Godongwana a hard time during his preparation of the 2025 budget.
What was meant to be a private chat among the three during the aborted tabling of the 2025 budget last month was picked up by the microphones and made public. The trio were talking about the SA Revenue Service (Sars) commissioner Edward Kieswetter.
Kieswetter had cautioned — correctly in my view — against tax rate increases (a point he has since repeated), favouring instead investment in improving the capacity and capabilities of Sars to collect what is already owed to Caesar.
Godongwana was clearly annoyed by Kieswetter's statements, which he regarded as straying out of his lane — tax policy-making. To cap it all, Ntshavheni said: “Uhamba nini yena?”, essentially asking when Kieswetter’s term will come to an end.
I’m sure Godongwana’s list of annoyers hasn’t shrunk this time around. But he must avoid a recurrence of the February incident. Godongwana and company need to mute their microphones. Or, if the temptation to gossip on the podium is overwhelming, they should turn to the “microphone muting” techniques of the village elders.
When gossiping about another village elder they would use metaphor and language that was too deep for kids. Take adultery. For as long as men and women have been in existence they have been yielding to the temptation that produces offspring, a delicate matter that could break up families if blurted out in public.
The elders would therefore camouflage the meaning of their words when discussing why Ms Dlamini’s son was the spitting image of Mr Khumalo. They would say Ms Dlamini's son was a picture of Mr Khumalo because he cast his shadow over Ms Dlamini's pregnancy mixture (washaya ngesithunzi sakhe isihlambezo sikankosikazi wakwaDlamini).
Back then — and it’s still the case in some parts of the country — a pregnant woman would be given a mixture of herbs and other stuff which was deemed good for the baby as well as for easing birth.
Another example would be a conversation about a man with lots of head lice, a common occurrence in the rural areas back then. “Ufuyile uKhumalo (Khumalo has lots of stock),” one would say. “Unothile (he is very rich),” another would confirm.
This talk would leave kids scratching their heads as to how Khumalo can be referred to as having lots of stock when he owned nothing, not even his teeth. And they wouldn’t connect wealth and stock to head lice. Therefore, there was no risk of kids repeating this talk about lice to Khumalo.
But even if they were to relay to him what they had overheard, the message wouldn’t harm Khumalo’s dignity — not only as an elder but as a human being. In any case, Khumalo would simply shake his head and walk on, knowing, of course, that the elders' conversation was about his “real stock”.
There’s a lesson in this for Godongwana and company. However angry Godongwana might be, he should avoid discussing this on the podium, especially without muting the microphones or camouflaging the meaning of his words.
• Sikhakhane, a former spokesperson for the finance minister, National Treasury and SA Reserve Bank, is editor of The Conversation Africa. He writes in his personal capacity.
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