From a previous post on the topic it will be easy to see that there is no love lost between myself and a certain person at the South African High Commission in Kuala Lumpur.

Over the last 8 years I have had no choice but to interact with the face of the SA High Comm in KL, Komotie*.

*I didn’t change her name on purpose (although I might have misspelled it), because I hope she or her superiors discovers this post and do something about her attitude.

Komotie, I have no doubt, was once a diligently compassionate employee of the SA High Comm servicing the needs of South Africans and those hoping to do business in or travel to South Africa, whether it be silly questions or otherwise, pertaining to their status in Malaysia and their connection with South Africa.

That was likely very, very long ago.

From the post above you know that I first encountered Komotie in 2000 and few things have changed since.  It was then with little pleasure that I had to phone the High Comm again this afternoon to ask a rather simple question.

You see, according to my xyf, I’ve recently infiltrated the bureaucracy of the South African government and can now manipulate government processes at will. “Someone smells like a fish, isn’t it?” she said in her accusatory, but otherwise delightful SMS.

If she is to be believed, I have maliciously manipulated the passport application of my son and made it miraculously disappear.

So I phone the SA High Comm to find out what the story is.  Yes, like everyone else, I have to phone the South African High Commission in Kuala Lumpur’s office number (which btw is +60 3 2168 8663 or +60 3  2170 2400), because unlike what the xyf may believe, I don’t have a red phone waiting for my call.

I have formulated the very simple question: “what happened to the passport?”, with some pre-amble to explain who I am and what my involvement is with this situation.  I expect it to be an easy call.

Komotie’s not unpleasant voice answers the phone, and I recognise it immediately.  I know I’m in trouble, because she’s like a stone wall, and if at first she says “no”, that’s all you’re getting, whether you beg, cry or plead, the woman will bend not an inch.  I explain who I am. I always make the mistake of thinking because I’m South African and she’s working at the South African embassy, she will be happy to hear from me. “We were just dealing with this”, she says in a patronising tone of voice, “why now do you suddenly phone?”.

I struggle to not put my arms up in defense of her aggression. “I’m the boy’s father and my signature is on the passport application form, I’m inquiring as to what happened to the passport.”

“I’m not saying anything”, she says as if I’m a reporter phoning to hear what her personal opinion is about Jacob Zuma and his prospects as South Africa’s next president, “you can wait until Marianne gets back from Bangkok.”

“But,” I start, now a little more defensive because of her tone and blatant rudeness, “do you know what the problem is?”

“Yes,” she says, “I’ve already explained it to your wife so you can talk to her.”  I can only imagine the conversation those two must have had.

Now I’m on the offensive, “It’s my EX-wife”, I underscore, “and if we were talking I wouldn’t be phoning you, now would I?  Can you just tell me what happened to the passport?”  “No,” she says, wielding her unrelenting baton of authority making sure I’m well aware of exactly where I am in the food chain, “I won’t.  Sort it out with your EX-wife.”

“Let me guess,” I say in an effort to catch her off guard, ” this is Komotie, right?”.  There’s only half a second of hesitation.  “Yes,” she says with an audible full-stop.

“I’m asking you a simple question to which you know the answer, why can’t you give me the answer?” But there is no guard to catch her off off.

“I’ve already told you” is all she says.

Now, completely exasperated, I say “Komotie, are you naturally attacking and unhelpful, or have you been jaded by all your years with the South African embassy?”

And that was the end of that conversation, because after the question mark Komotie from the South African High Commission in Kuala Lumpur hung up the phone.  This was at about 2.30pm and the 4 consequent calls I made went unanswered, except for one particular long-ringing call, which was picked up but hung back up a few seconds later. I guess she’s alone in the office and can do as she pleases.

So, there you have it.  Not so in with the South African bureaucracy after all.