In a development that has sent shockwaves through the international community and, more importantly, through the liver of this correspondent, South Africa has announced a formal investigation into the deaths of three Mozambican men whose bodies were discovered in what can only be described as a 'very unfortunate puddle' near the border. The UK, ever eager to chime in on matters it has absolutely no jurisdiction over, has expressed 'full support for regional stability', which is diplomatic code for 'we'll send a strongly worded tweet and then have a cup of tea'.
The deceased, identified as Adilson Domingos, Mauro Daniel, and Jequetimba Adriano, were allegedly kidnapped from a refugee camp in South Africa before being found dead. South African police, in a stunning display of competence, have confirmed they are 'looking into it', which in police parlance means they've formed a committee to form a sub-committee to discuss the possibility of forming a task force. Home Affairs Minister Aaron Motsoaledi, looking ashen-faced and possibly hungover, stated that 'these killings will not go unpunished', a phrase so familiar it should be trademarked.
Meanwhile, the UK Foreign Office, in a statement so bland it could have been written by a committee of accountants, declared its 'unwavering support for peace and security in the region', adding that it 'stands ready to assist where possible'. This assistance, sources reveal, will likely involve more statements and perhaps a strongly worded letter. Possibly written in crayon.
The Mozambican government, not to be outdone in the theatre of outrage, has demanded 'swift justice', a demand that carries all the weight of a chocolate teapot. Human rights groups have called for an independent inquiry, which means a group of well-meaning people will write a report that nobody will read.
As this saga unfolds, one cannot help but marvel at the beautiful, tragicomic ballet of international diplomacy. South Africa investigates, the UK supports, and three families grieve. The cycle continues. The gin glass empties. Another day, another headline. The only thing that's certain is that somewhere, a bureaucrat is preparing a memo. And that, dear reader, is the true measure of our times.
