Most embarrassingly, the trial has revealed that the Deputy President wore cheap suits.

Our story begins sometime in ... when Jacob Zuma, in his capacity as head of South Africa’s Moral Regeneration Movement (Note to foreign readers: This is not a joke. Do not laugh out loud), paid Cardinal Angel Sodano, the Secretary of State of the Vatican, a visit.

Exactly what transpired remains a mystery to be unravelled in the new Dan Brown novel (The Gedleyihlekisa Code). But apparently when asked how he came to head the Moral Regeneration Movement, Zuma told his eminence that such ludicrous appointments were not unusual as Zimbabwe had a Justice Minister and Britain had a Minister of Education.

His words may have been similar to those he uttered in a speech to the African Independent Churches in February, when he said: “As the patron of the Moral Regeneration Movement, I would be failing in my duty if I do not mention the important and critical role that the church plays in our society today, especially in building a society that cares and is built on the foundations of strong moral values.”

Somebody has to keep the Pope honest.

Zuma’s visit to the Vatican was the crowning moment in a year of outstanding Mamparadom.

It had seemed, after the Hefer Commission of last year, that the locker had been emptied of all embarrassing public skeletons.

But the trial of Schabir Shaik in the Durban High Court proved this wrong.

The trial has revealed that Zuma was frequently out of pocket and dependant on Shaik and others to bail him out of financial debt.

Among the embarrassing revelations was that Zuma was so up the financial pole that he did not qualify for a private bank account. Ian McLeod, former credit manager of Absa private bank, told the Durban High Court that he was repeatedly overruled when he tried to shaft applications by both Shaik and Zuma because of their high-risk ratings.

Zuma, then a lowly KwaZulu-Natal MEC, was eventually accepted, he testified, because the bank wanted to make inroads into provincial government accounts.

So desperately out of pocket was the poor man that he resorted to sending off humiliating faxes like the one to a certain John Lennon, pleading the case for a Shaik company to get a contract.

He wrote: “I have had discussions with one such company, namely Nkobi Holdings, headquartered in Durban. They are keen to participate in this venture as it fits in well with their own leisure plans.” EISH!

When the going got tough, Zuma ceded his pension to Shaik, the court heard from one Ahmed Paruk, who worked for auditing firm David Strachan Taylor. Paruk told the court that this move was illegal.

In his testimony, forensic auditor Johan van der Walt pieced together a sorry trail of paper.

He showed that Zuma’s income from July 1996 to December 2003 amounted to some R3.86- million, monthly salary included. Sadly, he spent R4.29-million and Shaik businesses paid a cool R1.2-million of Zuma’s debt. This is commitment beyond the call of duty for a financial adviser, no?

Half of a R2-million payment by Nelson Mandela to Zuma’s education trust came in handy when the wild overdraft needed taming.

Zuma showed no discrimination when it came to spreading his debt around. Testimony showed he was in trouble at one point or another with Standard Bank, Absa, FNB (through Wesbank), Permanent Bank and Nedbank. No fewer than 140 debit orders on his accounts were dishonoured.

Most embarrassingly, the trial has revealed that the Deputy President wore cheap suits. So cheap that Shaik was propelled to intervene by offering tailoring services to deal with the shabby silhouette of the second-in-command.

To round off, a quote from Zuma’s address at the launch of the Cape Town Unicity Moral Regeneration Movement in 2003: “We commit ourselves to promoting the common good that is based on our humanity and to the promotion of the values of compassion, integrity, freedom, peace, justice and respect for one another.” Except banks. And financial advisers. And the Scorpions. And car dealers. And auditors.

With acknowledgement to the Sunday Times.

*       Actually, there is one far bigger mampara, but maybe he should have been crowned in 2003, although the legacy of his meddling has endured into 2004 and will endure into 2005 and possibly, may it be forbidden, until 2019. He was the National Director of Public Prosecutions whose outwardly bizarre arrangements and agreements have released the Sunday Times's 2004 Mampara, as well as the latter's benefactor, Thint (Pty) Ltd and its executives Alain Thetard and Jean-Paul Perrier, from criminal prosecution for bribery and corruption by the National Prosecuting Authority.

The Sunday Times's 2004 Mampara just wanted the money from Thint (Thales International) to make up a shortfall on an extravagant and trigamous lifestyle, whereas Thint, through its executives Alain Thetard and Jean-Paul Perrier, inter alia make a perennial international business founded on bribery and corruption.

Pansi, Thales International, Pansi.