Let the Feselady sing louder

Let the Feselady sing louder

MUCKRAKER spent the better part of last Friday on her knees and elbows. She was praying. Not for the Feselady to get bail or find a comfortable corner in a cell.

She deserves prayers too but there are other pressing issues now.
The prayer should be for Uncle Tom who is said to be critically ill. We should wish him a speedy recovery. Yet praying doesn’t mean we should suspend our reasoning.
Now is not the time for this Pentecostal habit of leaving brains at the church’s door.

Call not on your fake prophets for they are not needed here.
Even as she wishes the old man well, Muckraker could not help but notice the speed with which his illness was revealed. A few weeks ago we were being told that Uncle Tom is as fit as a horse. Not just a horse but a mule. Some of his zealots even opined, with the usual dose of naivety, that the man is 80 but he feels 18.

Now suddenly we are being told that he is gravely ill. Prostate cancer, incontinence and Alzheimer’s were mentioned in the Feselady’s bail application. It will be unfair and callous to doubt that Uncle Tom is not well and that the Feselady is up to her usual tall tales.
Remember she is not testifying at the Phumaphi Commission. No Kamoli and Muvhango stories here.

What we should be asking is why the people around Uncle Tom, including the Feselady, wanted such an ill man to remain prime minister.
This only proves that they were using him for their own nefarious interests.
His health and the proper administration of this country did not matter.
Witchcraft is forcing an old and sick man to work.

To see this witchery you only have to know that one of the major symptoms of Alzheimer’s is loss of memory. Depending on the prognosis, it is possible that Uncle Tom could not remember basic things like names and roads.
Now imagine the chaos that ensued when his coterie discovered that he could not remember what letter he wrote in the morning. Little wonder people were being fired and hired willy-nilly in his name.

That’s a tip for many of our ambulance-chasing advocates to make some money from people fired between 2017 and May 2020.
The victims of the chicanery at the State House can claim that they were not fired by Uncle Tom but lithokolosi.

Muckraker thinks the Feselady need not worry about Uncle Tom while she is in custody. His daughter has already promised to take good care of him.
In any case, there are many people who owe Uncle Tom favours for pulling them from the mud. It’s time they return the favour.
The Feselady should be worried about her own troubles.

Women, as one comedian says, are hostile to going back in lifestyle. The Feselady must be having nightmares sleeping on the cold floor. There is nothing as sad as watching a yellowbone tossing and turning in her sleep on Mother Earth. The nights are long when you move from a therapedic bed to the hard floor. On the ground you have Sesita-hloohoana!
You dream of witches and snakes chasing you. Poverty will be embracing and kissing you in your dreams. During the day your mind drifts back to the recent good times.

But when you come back to your senses you are just a caged girl from Mokhotlong.
Just another suspect who has to say: “Mohlomphehi, ke kopa hoe a ntloaneng”
Maybe the cellmates are better because they have never tasted the good life she had.

From a village well to a Jacuzzi in the State House then straight to a prison cell.
That is not a fall but a crash. Boooom! That is not a fall but a crash. Boooom!

Now is the time to look to the heavens and sing: “Ha re na matla, rea kopa, rea lla Ntate (We are weak, we ask for strength Father, we are crying).”
It sounds better when you sing it with your behind on the cold floor of a cell while your lawyer scrambles around to get you bail. Keep singing my sister!

Nka! Ichuuuuuuuuuuu!


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