Application for a pension,
As attempted by a friend,
Has too many snags to mention,
And some red tape without end.
It would seem the SA nation
Doesn’t like the office found –
They disguise it as a station,
With no single sign around.
By the queues alone you know it,
As they snake around the bend;
Driven round the bend they show it,
With a wait that has no end.
If you try a conversation
While you’re waiting in the queue
Speakers give you consternation
When they blare the next train due.
Our poor friend finally buckled under the bureaucracy that demanded he apply for his pension at the office in Durban itself instead of that closer to our home to which we found it easier to offer transport. I took him to the one in the city today, and the appointed address turned out to be the backside of the railway station. A friendly employee at a nearby service station directed us to a set of steps with no signage, and at the top there was still nothing to indicate where to go – except for the distant view of a sorry mob who turned out to be waiting not for a train, but for pension purposes. They were condemned to stand for most of the morning in line before being admitted to a room where, at least, benches were provided, and then sitting on these for a few hours more.
Not a single sign appeared anywhere, inside or out, to identify the SASSA office, except for an A4-size notice at the door regarding old age pensions in general. This was dated from about 2008. There might have been some signage in the room itself, but I didn’t get to see inside.
Finally, our friend did get some registering done, but he still has to go back tomorrow for an interview. Oh, joy!
definite attempt to try ensure if you have enough money you can’t be bothered to try claim your pension too…
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Or, if you are too old, sick or feeble to be able to make the effort, you can conveniently die and save them the trouble.
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Aaah the endless delights of bureaucracy! How else are we to know we’re human but from the sheer range of emotion they make us feel?
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I wouldn’t mind so much if the emotions were ever allowed to move out of the fury/frustration/desperation range!
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The horror of it all, indeed. Appalling.
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Your poem nailed it, Col. What a sad situation for those looking for clues and cues to the pension queue. Hope your friend’s interview will be the final “rubber stamp.”
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Sad indeed – sheer cruelty to those infirm. I forgot to comment on the multiple steps one has to climb to get there – another means of discouraging the aged from qualifying!
One more hurdle for friend – waiting in queue again to pick up the card.
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A most excellent description of a queue at a government office: “a sorry mob”!
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They have much incentive towards sorrow!
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Oh.my.gawd
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What a shame! Our Germiston SASSA branch is very good-I was expecting the worst, but was very pleasantly surprised by the efficiency and mostly politeness of the staff. The office is also clean and spacious with plenty of seating in all areas. All-in-all, it was a pleasant, if lengthy experience!
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Oh, what a contrast! Our mob have a lot to learn – though from what I saw I don’t think they are capable of it.
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What a disgusting state of affairs! To treat elderly people like this is tantamount to abuse. 😦
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I do agree – plus rude ‘Security’ at the door who seem to think their uniform gives them demigod status (this seems a common feature) and some blatant discrimination against whites. Of course, in that direction it is not racist.
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Naturally so. 😦
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What makes you think they don’t want people to claim pensions?
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They obviously want to discourage such undesirable practices.
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