MFUWE

[This is the article, published on 1st January 2004 in The Post, which caused Muwelewele to try to deport Kalaki. Subsequently, however, it was Muwelewele who got deported]

Mfuwe

HE lumbered out of the state lodge, staggered towards the massive wooden chair that had been made ready for him, and fell backwards into it. His dishevelled safari suit was unbuttoned, and his huge belly hung over his trousers. In front of him sat all the assembled animals of Mfuwe, waiting for the Great Elephant Muwelewele to begin his Christmas Message.

‘Distinguished elephants, honourable hippos, mischievous monkeys, parasitic politicians, bureaucratic buffaloes, and other anonymous animals,’ he began, ‘I have just returned from one of my very brief visits to Lusaka, in order to be with you at this time of celebration. My message to you is that the last year has been a resounding economic success, and Mfuwe has never been more prosperous!’

‘Ee ee eeyee,’ squealed the monkeys, dancing around in circles, and waggling their bottoms, each painted with a picture of the Great Elephant.

‘When I was elected,’ continued Muwelewele, ‘I promised that only those constituencies that voted for me would see development. That is why Mfuwe is the only constituency that has seen development.’

‘Iwe wakhonza!’ shouted the crowd.

‘All the humans in the rest of this country refused to vote for me, so they have had no share in our marvellous development!’’Chabwino!’ shouted the crowd.

‘It was only you, my friends from the game park, who went out there and brought in twenty-nine percent of the vote. The snakes of the Shushushu slithered into the ballot boxes and stuffed them with votes. The horrible hyenas were our trusted party cadres who chased away the opposition voters. Our reliable rhinos moved the polling stations to unknown places in the forest. And our merry monkeys played hide and seek with the voters cards!’

‘Hurray!’ laughed the crowd. ‘The law of the jungle!’

‘So now the MMD is the Movement for Mfuwe Development. All my development programmes are located in Mfuwe, and all my appointments have been from amongst you. The previous government would not put you in government, saying you were just monkeys and crocodiles, who shouldn’t be given the vote.’

‘Chamanyazi!’

‘But I have changed all that. I have nominated hippos to parliament, and made them my ministers! I have appointed jackals as my district administrators, and put the long-fingered baboons in charge of the treasury. I have put the knock-kneed giraffe in charge of agriculture, the hungry crocodile in charge of child welfare, and the red-lipped snake in charge of legal reform. And best of all, the pythons are now fully employed, squeezing the taxpayers!’

‘One family one government!’ cheered the crowd. ‘One hippo one minister!’

‘Our beloved Mfuwe,’ said Muwelewele solemnly, ‘is now a state within the state. We control everything in the rest of the country. Everything is now run for our benefit. I am pleased to report that the past year has been the best ever. Just as the others are becoming thinner, so we in the game park are becoming fatter. As hospitals fall down in the rest of the country, so we are building veterinary clinics all over Mfuwe.’

‘Wehwehweh!’ squeeled the baboons, running up to the Great Elephant and showing him their big red bottoms.

'I am truly overwhelmed by this show of affection,’ said the Great Muwelewele, holding his handkerchief to his nose. ‘Education is another of our great success stories,’ continued Muwelewele.’The heartless humans built schools and universities for themselves, but provided absolutely nothing for the animals in Mfuwe. We are now reversing this situation. By closing these schools we now have the funds to send our monkeys abroad to Harvard. They are studying for MBAs, degrees in Manipulating Budget Allocations.

‘Just as employment is falling rapidly amongst the humans, so it is increasing rapidly here in Mfuwe. Just as factories are closing in the remainder of the country, so they are increasing here. I have declared Mfuwe a tax-free zone, and our new manufacturing industry will soon be exporting directly to South Africa. A new bridge across the Luangwa is already under construction for this purpose.’

_______________________

‘Our Saviour,’ shouted the crowd. ‘A new Saviour is born! A New Deal! A New Direction! Let’s roast a few street kids, and have a real feast!’The jumbo glided to a halt at Lusaka International Airport. Out came the Great Leader Muwelewele, lumbering down the steps like an elephant. A reporter managed to thrust a microphone in front of him.

‘Your Divine Majesty, how did you enjoy your holiday in Mfuwe?’

‘What!’ exploded the Great Leader, his face turning purple with rage. ‘I was not on holiday! This was a very busy working trip, to look at current economic developments in Mfuwe, which has been privatised. Shoprite has already bought the place, and they are busy putting in an abattoir and meat processing factory. We are already building the bridge across the Luangwa, for direct export of game meat to South Africa!’

TRIBUTE TO A GREAT LEADER

[This piece was written in June 1998, when Nigeria was celebrating the untimely death of the most notorious of all their presidents, General Sani Abacha]

Tribute to a Great Leader

‘We are gathered here today,’ intoned the Archbishop, ‘to say farewell to our Great Beloved Leader, General Aberration Abacha.’

The Archbishop was standing in front of the altar of the great cathedral, and next to the coffin of the Fallen Leader. I was in Gineria, with my old friend Iyiola Oluwi, attending the funeral.

‘Man that is born of woman hath but a short time to live,’ began the Archbishop.

‘What about a woman that is born of woman?’ I whispered to Iyiola.

‘She hath a longer time to live,’ he chuckled, ‘because she doesn’t drink so much.’

‘But in his short life,’ continued the Archbishop, ‘he became the Father of the Nation, and an example to us all.’

‘Rumour has it,’ whispered Iyiola, ‘that he fathered an entire new tribe.’

The Archbishop walked to the coffin and placed his hand on the lid...

‘Here lies a great lawgiver,’ declared the Archbishop, before the hushed congregation. ‘When his wise leadership was threatened by an election result, he had no hesitation in suspending the Constitution.

‘But above all,’ said the Archbishop with measured solemnity, ‘here lies a great nationalist, who knew how to deal with nations which tried to meddle in our internal affairs. After he had hung all his political opponents, they had nobody left with whom to meddle. Truly this was a man of great political wisdom.’

‘He was a murderous thug,’ whispered Iyiola.

‘Many of you here today must be wondering why Our Lord has chosen to take away our Great Leader when he was at the height of his powers. Normally, on such occasions, a priest will explain that death is not for us mere mortals to understand, for death is a great mystery which passeth all understanding.

‘However,’ continued the Archbishop, ‘in this particular case, and since I am the Archbishop, I am prepared to reveal why the Lord in His Wisdom decided to take away our Beloved Leader. It has happened because of Our Beloved Leader’s great pride. As you know, it was because of his unusual and excessive pride in himself that he was originally called Aberration. Of course we humble citizens understood his overbearing pride and pomposity, because we knew he had so much of which to be legitimately proud, and of course we were grateful for his many accomplishments in the service of the nation.

‘Indeed, it was because of his great pride in his own importance and powers that he had the courage to use these powers to remove his opponents, because he knew that these lesser mortals could not serve the nation with such distinction as himself. So we ordinary mortals understood this great pride, and were fearful of it, and stayed respectfully quiet.

‘But the Mighty Lord in Heaven took a different view, because pride is one of the Seven Deadly Sins. Our God, who is so proud of his Creation, cannot stand seeing such pride in a mere mortal. So when the Pope visited Aberration, he commanded him, in the name of The Lord, to swallow his pride. As a good Christian, Aberration had no choice but to do as the Pope commanded.’

As the Archbishop was talking, I noticed that the mourners near the coffin held handkerchiefs to their faces. Some coughed and sputtered in the sickly stench. Green flies clustered around the coffin, as little white maggots wriggled out onto the floor.

‘His death was concealed for a long time,’ explained Iyiola. ‘He’s probably been dead for a month.’

‘For the Lord in His Wisdom had seen that the pride of Aberration was like a cancerous monster that was consuming others. But the command of the Lord was terrible. For the day Our Beloved Leader swallowed his pride, so it began to swallow him. From that day he began to shrink, and began to turn green. He was consumed by his own pride. The corrosive pride which had destroyed others, at last came to destroy him.

‘And now our last duty to our Noble Leader,’ announced the Archbishop, ‘is to take him to his final resting place.’ At that point six coffin bearers marched in from the back of the cathedral. They wore white gas masks, and yellow plastic suits with ‘Sewage Department’ written on the back.

And then the entire congregation, and many more beside, now moved to the burial site in front of the Great Hall of the People, where the coffin was lowered into a huge grave, dug especially deep.

‘On this site,’ declared the Archbishop, ‘will be built a great memorial to our Fallen Leader. It will take the form of the Great Aberration Toilet. Because of the great aberrations of the Great Aberration Abacha, I cannot give him Absolution from his sins. But instead all the people may visit this Great Aberration Toilet, and freely allow their water to flow over him, so that his great sin of pride will be washed away. And so, in time, Ablution will finally lead to Absolution.’

‘And so, my fellow mourners, this is how we shall remember him. As the last part of this ceremony, I invite all citizens to file past his grave, and pay their respects to our Great Departed Leader. I invite especially all those people who were prevented from passing an opinion on our Great Leader during his lifetime. They may now come here to express themselves freely. Those people who have been bottling up their feelings for many years, may now come and relieve themselves. Those who never had a chance before, may now unburden themselves.’

‘Me!’ shouted Iyiola, pushing to the front, ‘I am ready to make the first contribution.’

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‘Wake up! Wake up! said Sara, shaking my arm. ‘You’ve missed the news! Abacha is dead!’

‘I know,’ I said. ‘May his soul rest in piss.’