My favourite engineer recently returned from her triumphant conquering of Africa’s highest mountain, Mount Kilimanjaro in Tanzania. At 5,895m (19,340 ft), the air is rarefied and breathing is difficult. I would imagine that the lack of oxygen might cause one to imagine hearing the heavenly voices of angels, in songs of praise for the intrepid mountaineer.

So it came as a bit of a surprise when her party reached Uhuru Peak to the squawks of a very un-angelic vuvuzela, aka the Devil’s Horn.

The Devil's Horn being played on Uhuru Peak, Kilimanjaro

Perhaps the god-brigade should re-assess where heaven and hell are located.

South Africa is facing a number of pressing problems. The recession is biting deeper than expected – the expectation coming from a largely economic illiterate and denialist political leadership. The judiciary is under attack – from a governing party that can’t abide its will or – more usually – its lapses being examined by independent courts. Having destroyed the public health system, the government in fit of misplaced egalitarianism seeks to destroy the private health system as well. Not to forget that a recent study has found the 25% of South African males admit to rape.

But these aren’t the issues that get South Africans’  juices flowing. No, the country is experiencing a soccer frenzy at the moment with the local staging of the Confederations Cup competition as a dress rehearsal for next year’s World Cup. And the topic that is dominating the national conversation involves the various merits of the vuvuzela. Yes, that nasty bit of plastic so beloved by football fans. It is held to the lips and as lungfuls of toxic air is blasted through it, it emits a sound somewhere between a malfunctioning foghorn and a bellowing ox in its last throes of agony.

Foreign visitors, local supporters at their first footbal match and even some teams have complained about the fiendish racket. Local supporters are indignant saying it’s part of their culture and that if people don’t like it then they can just bugger off. Which, I might opine, they will.

If you’ve caught any of the games on TV, you would have heard a continuous droning sound, like a perpetually embittered swarm of hornets. But you really have to be there to appreciate the full horror of the cacophony. I took my son to a game a few nights ago and have been suffering from headaches ever since, and am sleeping fitfully.

Wesley, vuvuzela aficionado

An Australian I met at the game was simply incredulous: “Why don’t they just ban the bloody thing?” he whined. A typical Australian reaction to anything that might vaguely cause offence. No, I’m not for banning anything. Like anything I find offensive, I’ll simply remove myself and not attend occasions graced by the blaring of these instruments from hell. I’d rather attend a jack-hammer expo.

But there was a glimmer of relief. When my tortured ears heard a series of sweet, modulated sounds behind me, a whipped around to see a middle-aged man coaxing these notes from satan’s trumpet. I had seen him before, looking slightly uncomfortable with his four strapping lads all blaring out their hate. Now he had commandeered one of their horns and was producing these notes from heaven. (Okay – that’s a bit of a stretch, but anything was better than what had been assailing my brain up till then.)

I was immensely impressed with this employment of his embouchure to produce such notes. “I guess you must me a bugler”, I asked hopefully. “No, I play the French horn – I can make music out of anything”, he said apologetically.

I then got to thinking that if these heathen brutes could be introduced to the joys of producing actual musical notes from their hellish plastic pipes there might just be a shift in Zeitgeist amongst them and they might seek to actually make music. Luckily, it appears that one Pedro Espi-Sanchis has had the same idea, albeit without the requiring the sort of skill demonstrated by our French hornist.

Along with a Bafana Bafana surprise win, “Pedro the Music Man” wants to hear soccer fans blow their vuvuzelas in unison at stadiums across the country. Espi-Sanchis, famed for his appearances on children’s television shows, has developed three vuvuzela orchestras around the country, and plans to expand for 2010.

Well, all strength to his horn, as it were. You can listen to an interview with him and to his orchestra here: