Dear Bisa: We've never been equals, have we?
Dear Bisa,
This is disturbing.
I have to tell you Bisa, there is something about these villagers that is not properly wired.
Now I know why the Shopping One and lady in red hats keep complaining about these ungrateful mindless creatures.
They are just impossible to please.
Bisa my friend, for all these years, these villagers have accused us clowns of not agreeing on important stuff about the village. They suggest we keep bickering over trivia.
On the contrary, last week, clowns agreed on a very important matter. A matter to my heart. A matter to the heart of my concubines, my barber and the mothers of what am told and/or suspect are my children in the slums.
We made a very modest adjustment to our perks. Just a little. Insignificant really. Just 300 percent.
It was historic again in the Conclave Bisa. Clowns across the divide agreed unanimously. We reached common ground on this matter. Just as we always do on this our Mijavi issue.
Not even Ib the Hitchhiker the argumentative witty clown from Baboons Bay disagreed. Neither did Zen the bald Dinosaur clown from the potato and verges district nor did the aggressive grey moustached loud chap from the Shopping Ones’ corner of the village.
That was progress.
A good debate. A healthy one. We endorsed it. It was a recommendation from a Kangaroo committee on something in the Conclave (I can’t remember what, I was not paying attention). It passed through. In a twinkling of an eye. Just like that. It was not debatable. We just approved the dame thing. The committee should get the stick here. If any. You don’t debate what is sensible, do you? No one should blame us.
Unless off course you are a little busy upstairs Bisa.
There was no need to cause stress to anyone in the Conclave through unnecessary debate over this matter. That is apart from the taxpayer and annoying the villagers outside.
Bisa, I know you reasonably expected the villagers to rejoice that we have found reason to agree as their beloved leaders on this matter.
NO. They did not. They are in fact unfairly furious. Cheesed off. Seething. Nsanje yawavuta!
These selfish idiots! Angry for what really?
If you look at it objectively, the clowns’ Mijavi increase is totally justified.
Akamamwalira ndizikatenga kuti Mijavi yogulira bokosi?
Look around you Bisa. Gas is expensive. The oldest profession is in recession. Look, prostitutes (am told clowns call them noble caretakers) have responded with adjustments.
Logical.
So have the women who claim that I am the father or one of the possible fathers of the children who live in their houses.
Foloko, the maize mill and the Cocacola man has added a few notes on his bill. The Cocacola man has started stupid rations. He says I can only buy four bottles of Cocacola.
My dog’s vet has responded too.
Lord knows when the much dreaded will come. The Masacheti man will eventually do the innevitable.
We clowns are under siege, Bisa. All our pleasures are now overpriced. Who is raising them? Its the damn villagers! If the villagers don’t want us to raise our pay, they should simply keep prices constant, don’t you think.
As of now, we simply needed a raise. We are not being greedy, unreasonable or difficult. No. Market forces clowns’ way basi!
Clowns are really easy to get along with Bisa. That is once you Bisa and the village idiots learn to worship us and accept without question or protest the choices we make.
They are in your best interest as villagers Bisa.
Ask no questions Bisa. Argue not. You will be spared lies.
You should understand that the needs of a clown always rise. Those of the villager must always decrease or stay constant. That’s the harmony of traditional and modern clowns’ economics. Look it up. It says so Bisa somewhere in the laws of village economics and the clowns’ handbook. Ask the bathtub chap and the been counter.
Sadly our cynical and not so smart villagers call the concept greed. Let them do that Bisa. They will change when they reach a moment of enlightenment.
I hear the official village employees are cooking up an idea of a picket line. I hear they want an increase too if clowns get one. I hear they want to pick the red garments again. And the candles.
Bisa, if they do, they will make me a happy man. I am afraid the boys will have to polish the AK 47s again. We want to shoot something. We will not give any quarter because this is a hostile action requiring decisive and firm blackbelt response.
Bisa, this is a hostage situation. Mutiny. If I had it my way, this feels like treason to me.
There is no such a thing as a pay increase at gun point. We don’t negotiate pay in the street or through red shirts or candles. We talk.
Just you wait Bisa, we will sack them all. Management will be decisive. Watch and learn Bisa.
Just why do these idiots need a raise anyway?
For what? They got one just in the current village budget. What do these pin headed idiots need another raise for?
Unlike us clowns, the villagers must adapt to current trends or die Bisa. PW Botha was spot on about this. I suggest they must drop some of their needs and adjust their miserable lives.
They shouldn’t expect same conditions like us their beloved leaders. How are we going to tell the difference in class. You are not still flirting with that silly notion of equality are you?
It is not practical.
Am sorry to burst the villagersk bubble by being brutally frank but Life siyili fair. The sooner they choose to be smarter and accept that, the better they will be.
Ask Wanapo the juvenile silly young lawyer with ridiculous neck ties, Wandale, JKK and Raqif. Deep down they know a few truths hence the vanity of trying to change the village.
Total equality is not possible. Individualism still carries the day. Even Lennin and Marxists failed to achieve equality.
I think these villagers are communists masquerading as cosmetic democrats. They will reach a dead end Bisa. Like Che, Fidel and Stalin.Communism has never really worked anywhere.
That silly chap Phelp Adams was right. Capitalism and communism stand at opposite poles. Their essential difference is this: The communist seeing the rich man and his fine home says, “No man should have so much.” The capitalist seeing the same thing says, “All men should have as much”. As a clown, I like the latter. Take what you can and give nothing back.
Screw the villager.
I will certainly take what I can depending on my position as a clown. You take what you can. Just don’t look at what am taking. Its non of your business. Your business is to pay taxes, get sick, go shopping, que for stuff and die in your red shirts!
Bisa I bet even if we gave them the essential liquid in abundance, they will always have something to complain about.
Bisa don’t blame us the village clowns for wanting to cut the cake into 12 pieces and taking 11. Its in our nature. Take what you can is the ethos.
Throughout history and all over, it is the same. Does it not catch your attention that the word Politics has “Poli” a Latin word that I think means “many”; and “tics” meaning “bloodsucking creatures”?
You still think the Latin chaps were making some sick joke when making this name up?
No Bisa.
For most logical clowns like me, politics in our village is a strife of personal interests across the benches in the conclave masquerading as a contest of principles and advancing interests of villagers.
Instead, it is a conduct of public affairs for private advantage. My point Bisa is that as bonafide clowns, there is no point in being at each others’ throats or disagree if our interest is common.
Mijavi Basi.
It doesn’t matter who gets a raw deal in the process.
Hang the villager! He gets too much attention anyway.
I had a dream Bisa. The year was 2014. Wanapo and the neck ties, JKK the aggressive one, Wandale and the Hitler Moustache and Raqif and the beard, shirts and glasses had made it to the Conclave as clowns.
They wore red garments and walked around with candles.
It was like Mass except there was no Eucharist or mention of the virgin Mary.
During the first session, I filed a private clown motion to increase clowns salaries ten fold.
Wanapo stood up. There was a whiff of cheap smell. I still can’t tell whether it was Cologne or Aftershave. It was unpleasant nonetheless.
“Dishonourable Clowns, I refuse the raise. Not when my people are suffering. Not when village workers can afford food. Its obscene. You take the raise. Don’t raise my pay,” he snapped.
He lit up a candle. So did JKK, Raqif and Wandale.
Clowns were stunned. He was a hero to the people.
Funny things dreams,
So Long,
Patapata
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