The falling Rand the rise of Push-push

The falling Rand the rise of Push-push


By Bokang Moeko

The Rand has fallen. Well, it didn’t so much fall as swoop like a kamikaze pilot out of the sun with screeching engines and a wail of air-raid sirens.

But I have a feeling that we are already groping for words to express our dire financial situations at our homes.

I was at FNB just the day and my wandering eye caught, “As of… 2016, the prime rate and interest will increase…”

I looked the other way. The enormity of that message was overpowering. Goodness, I thought that I had a great future…but I now feel like I had a great past even though I have absolutely nothing to show for that.

The Buddhist monks have been practicing mindfulness in the form of meditation for millennia. The effectiveness of this exercise truly surpasses human understanding.

I have been practicing it for years together with yoga and Pilates. I tried to a few weeks back but to no avail. I quit trying.

Despondency has got the better of me. My frustration is plausible: prices have increased. I cannot budget anymore because they seem to increase every day.

Even my favourite song, American Oxygen, by Rihanna does not leave me in a great mood anymore. I don’t feel like I can, literally, turn a penny into a million. Like I can be whoever I want to be.

I am just neurotic. Why shouldn’t I when everything around me seems to be shrinking? The economy of the country, South Africa, we depend heavily on is anaemic: Treasury expects it to be 0.9 percent this year, after 1.3 percent last year.

But wait until you hear something promising: my sister told me about Push Push a month ago. My reaction, I put the economist in me aside and swore to be a member. Who wouldn’t?

Given the financial problems we have, some of which we have no control over like the aforementioned cases of high inflation and interest rates, and contracting economies, my behaviour was justified.

“Push Push can really help me turn a penny into a million,” I thought.

I loved the sound of that. Please understand. I am young. Part of a generation that thinks the very height of ambition is to make as much money as one can and to drive cars that are not mainstream.

To us, affluence is everything. And the inordinate weight it puts on our frail shoulders is inexplicable.

Push Push. Push Push. Push Push. I said that until a rhythm was formed. The calculus that went into play in trying to refrain from being a member is too complex.

I had to keep a few night vigils to regain my sanity – a virtually improbable state to acquire when times are tough.

OK, it is a little bit late to be a member now. Why? Well, because some members have already made a fortune out of Push Push.

I assume those are the pilots, the co-pilots and the crew that is the first people to join. I am likely to be a passenger who will never make it to the captain position. And I tell you, I will lose.

Push Push, what can I compare it with?

My Tinder match of a guy who seems to tick all my boxes, #Mrperfect. Our first date goes on until the early hours of the morning. I wake up with a pounding head and heart. I sing Tinder praises.

After a couple of weeks or a few months, his true colours emerge and the relationship comes to an abrupt end.

As I storm out of his flat – angry, humiliated and hurt – these words resonated in my head: It was meant to be this way; we met on Tinder after all.

Let me revise that, when it all falls apart you will remind yourself: It was meant to be this way. It was a pyramid scheme – an illusion – after all!

It was bound to collapse and leave many members heartbroken. Sad news is, some will lose their hearts and find it virtually impossible to commit to struggles of life again.

The question is: Do you want to be one of the many who will lose?

Life has taught me an invaluable lesson: If something is too good to be true, it probably is. Categorically speaking, it never takes a minute to build an empire. It takes time. Determination. Courage. Dedication.

All of which require patience.



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