Sack the bent and lazy court clerks. That is what reason has been persuading me to do lately.
On the contrary, my good nature has made me defy Black belt Political Management sense to comply.
I think I am a patient man Bisa. It is a cliché but I think I have earned my right to describe myself as ‘cool, collected and calm beyond measure’.
Look at the adulterous, bent and lazy court clerks for instance. For all the bangs the get and clogs they put in our perfect injustice machine, I have still resisted all temptation from everyone from my Barber to my cuddy advisors to sack them all.
Even C the red faced woman with a powdered nose who lives in my house is unimpressed. She thinks am going soft. She demands I assert myself and show off a little more testosterone. She is questioning my Mojo. She thinks I must sack the those bent and lazy court clerks and outsource their jobs to the bogus job bureaus.
She thinks am losing it Bisa and that if I don’t make heads roll, the rest of the village will forget who I really am and make the mistake of thinking that in our perfect democracy, they have leverage to bargain or picket.
The stakes are enough for me to wield the axe once more. Who wouldn’t. I always find sacking people to be orgasmic. But I have resisted all that pressure from the woman who lives in my house Bisa. I call it patience, prudence and looking at the bigger picture.
I have even selflessly foregone certain crucial conjugal rights. The ones am really good at. I have resisted sacking these horny idiots even when the woman living in my house staged a vigil with blue candles. She has had “Fire the silly court clerks” Tshirts made for all the palace’s Chefs, Housekeepers, tasters, creepy Yoga instructors, her Chihuahua and my massage therapists. Even the children living in my house have some now.
Bisa, she has even threatened to have “Fire the silly court clerks” posters, wrist bands and adhesive bumper stickers made and draped all over my study and private bar. She even intends to have the stickers on my Golf clubs, water dispensers and fax machines.
That’s how much I am suffering Bisa.
Yet these greedy court clerks fail to appreciate that Bisa.
The least these chaps should do is get back to their jobs so that we continue our mediocrity. Our injunctions circus and case adjournments. All in pursuit of the honour of having the slowest justice system on the planet.
May be that way they will see who the real villains in this matter are.
Bisa, I hear the lazy bent court clerks are demanding a huge pay rise. What they only think is due to them. They say their needs aren’t being met. They sound like they are in a support group or something.
Here is my problem young man.
They have got it all wrong Bisa. They better just drop some of their needs and move on their lives. Where in the world have you ever heard employees stage a strike and get all they bargained for?
I agree, promises were made. Made by other people. The predominantly opposition conclave. The promises were not made by me or my lap dogs. In my life Bisa, I do not take credit for another man’s achievements. I do not think it is fair to hold me ransom over someone else’s mistakes or promises either.
Much as I like Mzuni, you do not see me brag about it, do you? Mzuni is a fine project but my predecessor should take credit for it. Not me. It is not my style. So if some majority opposing forces, albeit on my watch, introduced something in the conclave for the lazy bent court clerks, that is not my problem Bisa.
It was a juvenile lockeroom accord between the bent and gawky court clerks and Zenus and his dim wits. Not me.
The promises were broken and sitting on court gates will do no one any good. Waiting for Zenus and his Black chickens to get back to power and make good his adolescent promises is a more viable option for these bent, fornicating and lazy court clerks.
There is absolutely nothing I can do for the lazy court clerks young man except putting them out of their misery by sacking them and give them directions to Zenus’ crash pad.
Bisa, I know the bent, lazy court clerks might have said things in anger. I am willing to forgive and forget all that. I forgive them because they are all small minds. Small minds in big heads. Impressive stuff.
They are missing the bigger picture here. It is not their fault. They are being used by their horny and fat bosses and fornicating lawyers who are presently at the Lake feasting on chicken bones while the bent court clerks picket.
Bisa, you haven’t heard Oweluza complain have you? They are just occupied with the charade of “being concerned with the plight of the horny clerks”. Have you asked yourself why not grumbling? I will tell you why not. They already squeezed me and got a good deal a few years ago. Why didn’t they squeeze me the same time for the lazy bent court clerks perks? I still wonder. Now they are acting all concerned and sympathetic. Bisa, every man has his vices. Yours is women, mine is Jack, Oweluza is greed and the clerks its stupidity. Basi.
Every dog has its day Bisa. This is mine. I am giving these lazy bent court clerks no quarter. Watch me.
My reasons are simple Bisa.
Bottomline Bisa is that I made no promises so I must not deliver. Secondly, If I even considered giving in, they would feel they have forced my hand and will have a wet dream of feeling victorious. Thirdly Bisa, this industrial action is good. Think of it this way Bisa. Wanapo, JKK, Wandale or Sembs that philandering preacher will have nowhere to get injunctions to piss me off again.
And haven’t you noticed, Ben the noisy gawky youth is not contemplating any candle wasting vigils lately or having his verbal diarrhea on radio phone ins? If he does it this time, he will get long and nice few weekends in the cooler with the jail rapists who will screw him from the back. No bail Bisa.
Legitimate Police village this one. Let me enjoy it while it lasts. We call it a standoff. A standoff I like because my hands are clean in this one.
My options are healthy in this matter Bisa. I will just sit and watch. Say nothing. Do nothing. I will not listen to the woman who lives in my house and sack the clerks. After all they are just bent, lazy and horny court clerks. Either way, I will win. That’s the beuty and trouble with democracy. They have the right to demonstrate. I have the right not to be dragged into matters that don’t concern me.
We have a deadlock. Call the UN to ome and mediate. Or shall I set up another commission of inquiry to investigate why we have a deadlock?
Bisa, that’s the trouble with democracy. I know for certain that some of these lazy bent court clerks will choose not to understand me. They will decide to disagree with whatever puns out. In that case, I will have to organize a few boys to straighten things out. Akasuma kuti? Khothi mwatseka kaya.
I had another dream Bisa. More a nightmare if you ask me.
I was in my study sipping on a 50 year old Jack when Ken the poet and the Jacuzzi chap walked in. They each had a joint of good Weed. First class stuff. Robert Nesta Marley’s “Take it easy” was playing in the background:
“Excuse me while I light my spleef
Oh God I gatta take a lift
From reality I shall drift”
I signaled the poet. He handed me the Blunt and I hit it twice.
“We have a solution to the lazy bent court clerks problem,” said the dapper Jacuzzi boy.
I am listening, I said.
“We shall agree to pay the lazy bent court clerks but then we cant pay them now but put those funds in their pension fund. They will have to be dead or 65 to access the funds and when that happens, it will be a slow and painful process but most importantly someone else’s problem. Just as this was not a problem of your making and you must not bear the brunt for it,” said Kenny.
Besides, added Jacuzzi boy, we don’t have the money so they have to sue or sheriff us.
“By the way, the courts are closed and we own the sheriffs,” he said.
Genius. I thought. This is just what I wanted to hear.
Tell their lawyers we have a solution, I ordered.
A day later, the lawyer representing the bent lazy court clerks, Wanapo, that silly young lawyer with silly neck ties and gay shoes appeared before me. He still had that whiff of bad choices in deodorants. I still can’t tell if it was Cologne or Aftershave. It was just something wrong and disturbing.
“We take the deal on one condition,” said Wanapo, with that wicked smile.
He demanded that the lazy bent court clerks pensions be treated as loans that the village is taking from the lazy bent court clerks and be paid back at bank rate calculated interest upon retirement. This, he said, will only be an accord if also ratified by the conclave.
Sensing this will eventually be someone else’s problem once time for pay comes, I said: “We have another accord”.
The silly young lawyer smiled. We shook hands. He served me an envelope.
It was an ultimatum letter from villagers whom he claimed he is also representing.
They were called civil servants (including the lazy bent court clerks) and they were demanding a 53 percent pay hike. Non negotiable.
I looked around. Jacuzzi boy was too high on weed to notice anything. The poet was having a terrible hiccup and was obviously not with us.
I passed out. Yet again.
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