Give Size Two some weed

Give Size Two some weed

CONFESSION time! Without an ounce of shame, Muckraker admits that she once puffed some matekoane.
Don’t ask her when for it’s none of your business. Just know that she lost her mind for a few hours. Witnesses swear she thoroughly embarrassed herself.

One naughty friend tells of how she found Muckraker dancing to the sound of a neighbour’s Yamaha Power generator. As the story goes, Muckraker kept asking the friend who had composed that “hit song”.
Irritated, the friend replied: Its Yamaha featuring Diesel. In sober times that should have ended the inquiry but these were different circumstances fuelled by a different chemical.

Muckraker was in another world, miles away from this wretched one we call home. “Yamaha and Diesel must be new musicians because I have never heard of them before. Please buy me their CD,” Muckraker is alleged to have said.
Whether there is any pinch of truth in that tale Muckraker would never know. History says the friend has a fertile imagination.
Although Muckraker does not remember anything that happened during that episode she is aware that she momentarily forgot her troubles. Such is the power of weed.

It gives you a euphoric feeling while blunting the effect of your troubles for a few hours.
At times a brief reprieve from our misery is all we need to get to the next day.
There are however some problems we cannot forget no matter how much weed you take. A typical example will follow in the next three sentences after some statistics.

By some conservative estimates Lesotho produces more than 100 000 tonnes of matekoane every year. You can therefore speculate that there is a matekoane garden in almost every village in the country.
But even if Size Two smokes every bush and every seed of those 100 000 tonnes of weed there is no way he will forget his spectacular defeat in June.
There is no evidence that Size Two occasionally indulges in a weed joint. This is despite that Muckraker has noticed what appear to be the effects of matekoane in the way the Tsoelike man is given to unleashing acerbic idioms on his political opponents.

You need to be high on something potent and illegal to slide into a mental state that forces you to poop such vitriol. Sober people don’t say “I doesn’t care!”
Still we should not get carried away because there are no exhibits to prove that he will be under the influence when he assails his opponents. It could be that the man is a brilliant orator gifted with the talent of stinging words.

Evidence in the form of a picture of him puffing a long one will be most welcome and generously rewarded. Until then, any such thoughts should be perished pronto, lest we find ourselves before a wig-wearing judge for criminal defamation.

The point here is that no amount of intoxication will soothe Size Two or help him forget his walloping at the ballot.
That much was clear at the DC’s leadership conference last weekend. He said he was disappointed by the defeat.
Size Two remains bitter that he was booted out of government by a bunch of politicians he thought would not muster even a truckload of supporters.
He said he wants to rebuild the DC to prepare for the next election.

In other words, Size Two wants to return for the third time. Yes, a third term!
Does Muckraker hear some people gasping for air? Well, that is an apt reaction to such thoughts. Muckraker has another more incisive explanation for Size Two’s nerve.

You see, one of the side effects of matekoane is hallucination. As the potent smoke races through the head it pollutes the mind and makes it go haywire. Reality is skewed. It is astounding that Size Two believes he still has both the physical and mental stamina to become prime minister again.
So outlandish and bunk is that idea that Muckraker does not believe that it comes from Size Two’s sober mind. There is a possibility that the man is confused because he is still in mourning six months after he abruptly packed his bags from the State House.
Grief does weird things to people.

You might ask where Muckraker gets the idea that Size Two wants a third bite of the cherry. You have to be either slow or a lazy thinker to miss the signals.

At the conference he didn’t tell the party when he intends to retire. There are no signs that he plans to relinquish power.
His camels might be craving his attention in Tsoelike but he finds the lure of power hard to resist. Little wonder he talks about future elections and not future leadership.

In his mind he still has something to give to both the party and the country.

Leadership is like food: At some point it becomes stale. Beyond that point there is nothing much you can do about it because neither refrigerating nor microwaving it will help. If you insist on eating it you will be a permanent tenant at the VIP, profusely emptying your contaminated bowels.
Size Two’s leadership got stale some time in 2007 but he forced us to keep swallowing it. Since then he has tried to shove his stale leadership into a fridge and a microwave.

Still, it remained stale. By 2012 the country was having collective diarrhoea from consuming it. So from the VIP toilets we headed straight to the polling stations where we said: “Enough of this nasty bug in the tummy!”
At least by that time we still had the energy to walk to the polling stations.

Away from power for two years, Size Two thought he could still microwave his leadership to make it edible. That seemed to work when he returned to power Uncle Tom and DJ Waters fought like cats.  It might have smelt fresh but that doesn’t mean it was not stale. Hungry, we gobbled it and our tummies were full yet it did not take long for his stale leadership to start wreaking havoc in our bellies.

\So serious was this bout of diarrhoea that by the time we got to this year’s election we were too weak to walk to the polling station.
Size Two’s leadership had left us dehydrated and bedridden. We are now trying to recover but you will be naïve to think the nightmare is over.
Size Two wants another go at us. Phew! He wants to keep foisting his stale leadership on us. Central to his bid to return to office is his ego. He remains convinced that he is the best thing to happen to this country after the Lesotho Highlands Water Project.

He cannot think of anyone who can take this country to the “promised land” apart from him. Only more power can wipe away the pain of losing power. Nothing short of another stint in office will console him.  At the conference you could see this was a man unwilling to let go. Even every blanket in this country will not dry his tears. Because of that we must be very afraid.

On a different matter, Muckraker is flabbergasted at the rate at which Uncle Tom and his government are insisting on walking in the footsteps of Size Two. They say imitation is the highest form of flattery. During Size Two’s government relatives of senior government officials were parachuted into plum positions.

It was by sheer miracle that Size Two did not hire his camels into government.
Rumour has it that by the time he was kicked out Size Two was trying to find ways to sneak even goats and rats into government jobs.
That is what nepotism does if left unchecked. It starts with family members, then friends, then villagers and then supporters until it is a free-for-all.

While this was happening the opposition was screaming. Muckraker could only commiserate with them for there was nothing they could do to change the situation. The only way to end the rot was to push out Size Two and his battalion. And on June 3 they did just that.
We hoped the madness had come to an end. We thought merit and not blood connections would determine who gets hired. It turns out we were horribly wrong.

A 70-year-old person reportedly connected to Uncle Tom has now been posted to an embassy. The logic behind that appointment is hard to fathom.
Let’s do the numbers. Muckraker does not need to remind you that the retirement age is 60. Any person over 60 is, by definition, considered elderly.
Life expectancy for women is 59.5 years. Let that sink before Muckraker tells you that according to the recent census only 85, 189 of the total population of two million are aged 70 and above.

Just over one million of the population is aged between 20 and 59.  So out of one million people the government could not find one person to appoint to the embassy. Instead it had to search for the candidate among 85 000 people aged 70 and above.

When you are 70 and over you have no business being in a job. Where were you when others were working?
It is not for nothing that the medical aid premium of anyone more than 70 is very expensive. They have a special rate. But that is not the only shocking part.

Apparently, the government does not see anything wrong with that appointment. It says there is nothing special because Size Two did the same. Phew! So there we have it: Size Two has set the pace and the new government is following.

Muckraker is impressed by these copycat antics. Are you furious? Well eat your hearts out because nkhono is already getting used to the bright lights of a modern city. Meanwhile you are stuck here watching goats mating in the middle of our silly excuse of a capital city.

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