A dry run before the main event: Sol Plaatje just couldn’t wait

By Monty Quill

IF EXCITEMENT were water, Kimberley would be flooded.

City residents were told to brace themselves for a five-day water shutdown starting on Thursday. But surprise! Sol Plaatje Municipality couldn’t wait that long. They jumped the gun and hit the “off” switch three days early, giving us a premature taste of the drought to come with a sneak preview: an unscheduled water cut.

On Monday, residents across the city were startled to find their taps already running on empty. Not Thursday. Not after 6pm. Monday. Before the great plumbing parade could officially begin, Sol Plaatje was already giving us a little taste - a little rehearsal, if you will. You know, just to warm up the pumps. Or in this case, turn them off entirely.

According to the municipality, this premature parching was caused by an electrical cable fault at the Riverton water treatment plant. Of course. Because nothing says “well-oiled operation” like a treatment plant tripping over its own wires days before a scheduled shutdown.

And so, the Newton Reservoir pumps had to be switched off to avoid draining the dams. Because, heaven forbid, we lose water before we're meant to not have any. So to protect us from a water crisis, they triggered ... a water crisis. Sol logic, in all its dry glory.

It’s all so deliciously ironic? A planned shutdown, preceded by an unplanned shutdown, to avoid a planned shutdown. It’s like burning the cake to make sure you don't burn the cake.

This all comes on the heels of a press conference where the mayor and her entourage spoke solemnly about repairs, JoJo tanks, leaks, sludge, pressure valves, and cattle-slaughtering logistics. A PowerPoint parade of pipes and pumps. They assured us that this mega-maintenance is necessary, vital, and, in the words of the municipal manager, “not the first nor the last” of its kind. Comforting. Like being told your dentist will be removing all your teeth, one by one, over the next several months - for your own good.

Monday’s water cut feels less like maintenance and more like a sadistic tease. Just a sip of chaos to get us used to the idea of thirst. Maybe it’s a strategy: if they can frustrate us enough before the official shutdown, by the time Thursday rolls around, we’ll be so emotionally dehydrated we won’t even complain. Psychological parching – brilliant!

And let’s not forget their list of stern warnings. Don’t waste water. Don’t vandalise the JoJo tanks. Don’t slaughter your cattle or sheep without a hydration strategy. Don’t host a wedding, funeral, or any event that involves running taps, clean dishes, or living guests unless you've stockpiled buckets like it's the apocalypse. Apparently, we can’t be trusted with water or instructions. Next up: a city-wide pamphlet on how to use a tap without causing a municipal crisis.

Meanwhile, Monday’s outage gave us a sneak peek at what a “controlled” shutdown looks like when it goes off-script: panic, confusion, and communal bucket-filling. So buckle up, Kimberley. The five-day water fast is coming – assuming we don’t get another accidental taste before then. The only thing more unpredictable than the pipes is the people managing them.

Stay thirsty, Kimberley – not that you’ll have a choice.