A recent incident involving a woodwork teacher at Alston Primary, who used a cane named 'Peggy-Sue', serves as a personal reflection for the author on South Africa's justice system. The author stated, "I have carried that Monday for more than 30 years," drawing a connection between past experiences and current societal issues. The author describes the country as a "Monday-cane country," referring to a system where punishment often arrives after the damage is done.
The author argues that "Punishment that arrives after the funeral is not justice. It is ceremony." This perspective notes a perceived failure in preventive measures, especially in communities like Philippi, which recently experienced its second mass shooting of young people since July. The author questions, "What was supposed to happen before?" rather than focusing solely on post-event retribution. "Prevention has many uniforms, but it begins with presence," the author explained, advocating for visible authority and functional institutions as a deterrent to violence.
The 'Monday Cane' Analogy
The concept of a "Monday cane" is used to illustrate a justice system perceived as reactive rather than proactive. The author describes this as an anatomy with three parts. The first part is "the absence," referring to an authority that should be present but is not, such as "visible policing, functioning courts, a detective service with time to detect." This absence creates an opportunity, described as "the open drawer," reachable by anyone willing to take it. The third part is "the ceremony," which is "punishment as performance, arriving after the destruction, its force measured in headlines." The author posits that "Punishment that arrives after the funeral is not justice. It is ceremony," concluding, "We are a Monday-cane country."
This analogy draws from a personal experience where the author and other boys played soccer with a netball, destroying it, because their teacher was absent and the drawer containing the cane was unlocked. The author reflects that "The lesson was not that consequences did not exist. It was that supervision did not." The author acknowledges belief in consequence and does not advocate for a smaller cane. Instead, the author states, "I am asking a different question, the one the cane’s ceremony so easily drowns out: What was supposed to happen before?" The author emphasizes that "Prevention has many uniforms, but it begins with presence."
The author connects this analogy to broader societal issues, asserting that "Mob justice is not the opposite of the Monday cane. It is its child." The author encourages listeners to "Listen for the canes," implying the widespread nature of this reactive system. This perspective gains further poignancy in the context of recent events, such as the discovery of a ninth body in Dawn Park. The author suggests that "The questions to put to anyone asking for your vote are not about the cane at all." Instead, they should focus on who will ensure a present authority, lock the "drawer" of opportunity, and "referee the game while it is still a game – before the straps come off, before the body is found, before the crowd gathers."
Current Violence and Systemic Failures
The bodies of nine women have been discovered across Ekurhuleni since mid-July, noting a persistent pattern of violence. The author noted that the count of these bodies required revision twice during the writing of the column, indicating the ongoing nature of such discoveries. In July, the same Philippi community experienced the killing of four victims aged between 17 and 20, further showing the severity of violence in specific areas. The author identifies recurring patterns in courtrooms, such as protection orders that are granted but never enforced, stalled dockets, and frequently carried-over court dates, suggesting systemic failures in the justice process. A justice system where barely one murder in 10 results in police identifying and arresting a suspect is teaching a lesson on a national scale, according to the author.
The author argues that "Punishment that arrives after the funeral is not justice. It is ceremony." This statement reflects a broader critique of a reactive justice system. The author describes South Africa as "a Monday-cane country," a characterization that points to a system where consequences often manifest after significant harm has occurred. This perspective is further elaborated by the author, who states, "The cane is coming out, with ceremony, on Monday." The core question, as posed by the author, is "I am asking a different question, the one the cane’s ceremony so easily drowns out: What was supposed to happen before?" This query shifts focus from post-incident retribution to preventative measures.
The author emphasizes that "Prevention has many uniforms, but it begins with presence." This concept is central to the author's "Monday cane" analogy. The author details, "This is the anatomy of the Monday cane, and it has three parts. The absence: the authority that is supposed to be present – visible policing, functioning courts, a detective service with time to detect – is not there, and everyone knows it is not there, the way every boy at Alston knew the teacher was away. The open drawer: the opportunity that absence creates, reachable by anyone willing to reach. And then the ceremony: punishment as performance, arriving after the destruction, its force measured in headlines." The author concludes, "The lesson was not that consequences did not exist. It was that supervision did not."
The author connects mob justice to this reactive system, stating, "Mob justice is not the opposite of the Monday cane. It is its child." The author encourages the public to "Listen for the canes," suggesting that the signs of this system are widespread. Finally, the author proposes a new set of questions for those seeking political office: "The questions to put to anyone asking for your vote are not about the cane at all. Who will keep the teacher in the room – the visible patrol, the staffed station, the working streetlight on roads like the one where the boys were shot? Who will lock the drawer – the protection order that is actually enforced, the docket that actually moves? Who will referee the game while it is still a game – before the straps come off, before the body is found, before the crowd gathers?"
Prevention Over Retribution
The discovery of the first body near the R21 in Kempton Park marked the beginning of a series of grim findings. Police have stated that they have not yet established if the deaths are connected. The author critically observes that "Punishment that arrives after the funeral is not justice. It is ceremony," characterizing South Africa as "a Monday-cane country." This perspective emphasizes a reactive justice system, with the author noting, "The cane is coming out, with ceremony, on Monday." The author poses a fundamental question, stating, "I am asking a different question, the one the cane’s ceremony so easily drowns out: What was supposed to happen before?"
The author stresses that "Prevention has many uniforms, but it begins with presence," outlining the "anatomy of the Monday cane." This anatomy includes "The absence: the authority that is supposed to be present – visible policing, functioning courts, a detective service with time to detect – is not there, and everyone knows it is not there, the way every boy at Alston knew the teacher was away." This absence creates "the open drawer: the opportunity that absence creates, reachable by anyone willing to reach," followed by "the ceremony: punishment as performance, arriving after the destruction, its force measured in headlines." The author concludes, "The lesson was not that consequences did not exist. It was that supervision did not."
The author connects this reactive system to societal issues, asserting, "Mob justice is not the opposite of the Monday cane. It is its child." Deterrence research consistently indicates that the certainty of being caught deters more effectively than the severity of punishment. The author advises the public to "Listen for the canes" between now and election day, identifying them as promises of tougher bail, longer sentences, and the full might of the law. The author urges voters to ask prospective leaders, "Who will keep the teacher in the room – the visible patrol, the staffed station, the working streetlight on roads like the one where the boys were shot? Who will lock the drawer – the protection order that is actually enforced, the docket that actually moves? Who will referee the game while it is still a game – before the straps come off, before the body is found, before the crowd gathers?"
The Cost of Inaction
In Philippi's Marcus Garvey area, six boys were shot, with two teenagers among them succumbing to their injuries. This incident marks the second time in three months that boys have been shot in the same Philippi streets. The recurring violence shows a broader systemic issue. Mob justice, according to one perspective, is not an opposing force to the "Monday cane" system but rather its direct consequence. This view suggests that the absence of proactive justice mechanisms contributes to the rise of vigilantism.