Of course, it never was going to last. Ramaphoria, I mean. Ramaphoria is the warm, fuzzy feeling that washed over South Africa with the ascension of Cyril Ramaphosa to the presidency in February. With the departure of Jacob Zuma, the pall of gloom that had hung over the nation for almost a decade was lifted.
Suddenly all things seemed possible again, in the “new dawn” that Ramaphosa proclaimed. The sun came out, the rand surged, optimism soared.
But Ramaphoria was never going to be the same high-octane potion as the Rainbow Nation mampoer that South Africans had got vrot on. The Ramaphosa gilding of the ANC is already wearing off in patches, exposing the same old tacky plastic below.
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