Greetings from the Kangaroo Kingdom.
Am glad to be around fellow village headmen who some dim wits like to tyrants. You see how pathetic ignorance is?
We have come in our numbers in private jets to meet the white Boss Lady (her ancestors were both slave traders and colonialists) with her silly pink hats and ugly faced Bulldogs.
Am in a King’s Hotel Suite here at the Hotel La Mona. I full view of Dengos and Kangaroos. The Kangaroo chaps here know how to treat a man with respect! I have upped my tips for them!
I am seating right next to my fax machine. Working on my ninth bottle of Hennesy. C is here too. She has a Rose’ cask and Amarula all the way from down below the Limpopo.
In fact I think all these people in my village are ungreatful morons. They have envy tatooed all over their faces. I pray they choke on it and go to hell! Except you Bisa.
I have mellowed Bisa. Give me credit for that. I gave in to their wet dreams and silly aspirations. Mark my words it was no sign of weakness. I just wanted to see their reaction.
Predictably they remain ungrateful. Like I said, I have now figured out that what these villagers really need is not the social services they are demanding but my head and they will use every trick in the book.
I am not going to give them my chieftaincy. They have to take it from my dead cold hands! Not that easy.
I would like to go out with color, pomp and not because some four silly people are walking in the street with letters and think I will leave. Why do people do things they know won’t yield any thing but a few nice in jail?
Bisa, am a listening chief. Against my will I tried to find common ground. I sadly compromised. I ruled that the Nkhoswe for Boss Lady with dogs who I asked to leave be allowed to come back and partake in Masacheti in my village. I extended the same to Mikayele Tasa the ill tempered drunk and smoker (is their any bad habit he doesn’t do?) from Mbawe Village.
I went further Bisa. I brought back JKK, the loud mouthed silly woman and her 3 cronies.
What do I get in return? No orchestra or Bouquet of flowers or a supplement of adverts in the papers where companies “join the village people in congratulating me”. Whatever happened to respect, Bisa?. U remember as we grew up, we once spent a few hours with Kajotche and he gave us a definition of ‘respect’.
He said: ” respect is that you don’t say the chief has lied. You say he has forgotten. The chief doesn’t get drank, stagger and insult villagers, we sai he is tired”
I just don’t understand why the villagers are still complaining, Bisa. Beats me. We are still alive, aren’t we? Name names Bisa of anyone who has passed on because of luck of Mijavi ya kunja or Paraffin to set ourselves on fire?…don’t worry about time allocated to you to answer this one. I will wait!
There may be (I repeat, maybe) half truths about the nonsense villagers are complaining about but the fact remain that no one has died because of direct cause as far as am concerned. That is apart from those idiots who draped themselves in red garments on that delightful winter day. My hands are clean on those chaps.
My villagers Bisa should learn one thing from my Mwalimu when we grew up at Sembenale. Whatever doesn’t kill you makes you stronger, he said. My people should be thankful am making them a persevering and persistent lot.
They will kiss my feet and thank me one day.
I would rather they say thank you than turn up at Pakachere with Wanapo and his silly boss and make fools of my lap dogs.
The infuriating part Bisa is that now the villagers and those cockroches are demanding an ‘apology’. For what? Am not issuing one. We will call it anything so long as it does not reflect remorse but defiance. Sorry is not in my nature.
These chaps must save their time…let them see it my way basi!
I blame a few of my lap dogs for suggesting I compromise and change on the issues that have been the heart of the matter this far. They were wrong. Very wrong.
Compromises are ridiculous dead ends in my world and in fact in most of us bright chaps. They achieve nothing. You have to be tough. I do not have a backbelt in chieftency for nothing.
I conscious to the fact that a man in my position should not compromise. Never back down. Not to give a quarter. Never back slide on anything. No matter how ‘small’ the matter is.
Remember Bisa, there are no small or insignificant things in my position. I don’t have that luxury. Its about my chieftaincy, my whisky and my golf game. Everything else including C is colored bubbles!
My mother told me that if I want to be a Bear, I should be a Grizzly basi! Osati ka endangered Polo Bear.
Bisa, some witty scripter once wrote some time ago that a bone is just a bone until two lions reach an agreement that only one of them is going to walk away with it.
Compromises are never a solution. They are a dead end. They can stop a situation but do not solve situations. In our case it is about idiots who think they can disagree with me and get away with it.
Compromises are reached and agreed by proponents who eventually walk away each having achieved less than what they burgained for. Not my style.
Bisa thats exactly what happened here in the village.
As for JKK and her 3 side kicks, it was a case of two cocks tired of fighting and seperated by a passing by mosquito. Some thing have got to give! Sometimes when you chase an opponent for long and they run into a crowd in a street, you decide not to shoot them that day. Wait for another day and chance. Too many witnesses!
Have you noticed that when JKK speaks, even frogs come out of her mouth? Even her cronies were badly christened and are all rather unpleasant looking.
The bottom line is I may have changed a few things that I might have said in anger but be sure I will not be apologising. I changed not because I believe in the change. It was just to flex my biseps.
I may have just been buying a good night’s sleep. That moment of madness may not continue so these jubilant villagers must not push their luck.
Bisa, to me compromises and confessions may be good for the soul, but they are bad for the reputation.
Let Boss lady’s boy come azamwe masacheti. Let the Mbawe chap have his tantrums. He got the prize, didn’t he? What more does he want?
I had a dream Bisa.
We were in heaven. You and me. With us was JKK, Wandale, my Karonga problem and Wanapo the bent young lawyer with his silly neck ties.
Apparently, we were about to be sent back to earth for gambling in the house of the Lord before the shrewed Wanapo secured an injunction from JC pending judicial review
The next day, Wandale, yourself, JKK, Wanapo and myself gambled again. We played high stakes poker.
Paulo Woyera caught us again. We hid the cards but I think he had seen them already. He warned that our answers better not be lies otherwise we will be Lucifers guests next door.
He first asked JKK. “Were u gambling?” JKK bowed and silently prayed to JC for forgiveness for a lie she was about to tell. She then turned to Paulo and said “NO”. Paulo did the same to rest of us apart from Wanapo. We did the JKK routine and all said “NO”.
Wanapo was last. When Paulo asked Wanapo If he was gambling, he answered “With who?”
A furious Paulo walked away.
Never fool yourself arguing with people doing thing within confines of the law, I thought.
Funny thing dreams
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