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Last Will and Testament of Nelson Rolihlahla Mandela PDF Print E-mail
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Monday, 02 September 2013 10:16

Mandela's Last Will leaked out AGAIN? Impossible. (parody)

Last Will and Testament of Nelson Rolihlahla Mandela

I bequeath:

R2 000 000 to you, Winnie, for a remake of the Hollywood movie deifying you as Queen Mother of Brandfort.  But you know nothing of soccer, my dear.

R1.45c to the ANC, for elbowing me out when you needed me most. I retired for quiet reflection, not general paralysis.

R5 000 000 to the JHB Metro Council. By god, Parks, fix those freaking roads, the ambulance ride here almost ruptured my spleen.

R70 000 per annum for the upkeep of Robben Island. Raze it to the ground, keep my old cell and build one single Afrikaans South African university. WTF.

R20 000 000 for president Zuma to fairly divide between my three (ex-) wives. You arbitrate that so well, Jacob.

$55 to CNN for dusting off their pre-written obituary of my 2003 demise. Gotcha good, that time?

$100 000 for the Me-Prize. Danny, Sidney, Morgan, Dennis, Simon played me splendidly. But the role should go to a white actor with twenty-years-on-an-island experience. Sorry John, I want Tom Hanks.

R80 000 to gag the Independent Examinations Board.  There is only one thing better than inflated matric results - quiet diplomacy.

R200 000 for the design of a new flag. The corruption and murder under the banner of this one, desecrate my long walk to freedom. I wanted to be out of breath, not out of funds and out of South Africans.

R13.50c for epoxy glue. FW, splitting that ’93 Nobel was silly. You keep my half too.

R100 000 to my publishers for my ideas on bomb planting.  Lindiwe Sisulu can add this manual to our war library. It’s called What Uncle Albert Taught Me.

R2.00 for an SMS to Matt Damon. “Dear Matt. I loved your Pienaar. But you were too short. Madiba.”

R10.00 to Desmond Tutu. You old fart. That bet we took? You win, Des.

R20 000 each, to Ampie du Preez and AB de Villiers.  Please don’t sing that song again. Thank you.

R55 000 to redo my hair on that statue in that square named after me. Fourty-four hairdressers and this is it?

All the money left in the Foundation to shut up that child Julius Malema. Sello, please. His incoherent babble has always violated my ideals. You can’t legislate people rich. You gotta work, Jules.

To my feuding children. I leave you nada. Sue that.

Grace said I shouldn’t, but to all media getting filthy rich from my demise, go fuck yourselves.

I thank you.


Nelson Rolihlahla Mandela

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