It begins with Phuza Thursday, the warm-up that spills into Friday and Saturday, the official binge drinking days. Sunday, once a sacred day for family and rest, now stands proud on the drinking calendar. Then comes Mogodu Monday, stretching the weekend binging. By Tuesday, the cumulative five-day hangover sets in; Wednesday is shaky. Come Thursday, the whole cycle starts again. We joke about it, but I doubt our children are in on the joke. They grow up watching us parents lost and submerged in bottles. In the process, their emotional needs are met half way, productivity in workplaces suffers under the weight of exhaustion and alcohol-induced brain fatigue. May we all remember that each binge steals hours from our selves and our children. Each binge weakens our homes and chips away at our dignity and the future we claim to be building. PS. Don’t mind me. I’m just a grumpy, boring old fart. Where do I get off writing this nonsense. Rha sies! Uzenza ‘bhetere’ la Lupi. Xa eqale wangubani yena. O nagana o gore o mang- kgosi ya lefatshe