Simulating silliness

Simulating silliness

SOME THINGS are just obvious. There is no debate that this government is now a one-legged horse being dragged to its grave.
We don’t need a sangoma to confirm that the ABC is in a self-inflicted disaster.
Uncle Tom has lost his mojo. It’s palpable that the Feselady is loathed.

Metsing has taken political prostitution to another level (Jezebel has nothing on him). Lesotho will never launch a space ship and Likuena are just a bunch of overrated amateurs.
Kamoli has landed with a thud but will not go down alone. Our country belongs to John Xie. We are good dancers. Our sheep farmers are skilled. Mantša is good but Sanko was great.
Those who deny these naked facts are obviously delusional.

The same goes for those sweating to defend the Ebola simulation gaffe last week. Muckraker has always known that our disaster management systems are pathetic.
We see it during winter when roads are blocked and our people are stranded in remote areas. It takes us days to put out a fire.
So you can imagine Muckraker’s horror when she heard that Lesotho had conducted an Ebola simulation exercise. Don’t be bothered by the jargon that government official sprinkled on the exercise. They want to sound smarter than they really are.

Simulation simply means imitation and fake. You are just creating a fake situation to prove something. So in this case the government created a fake Ebola patient to find out if nurses, doctors and clinics are prepared for an Ebola outbreak.  The bungling that followed showed that we are not good even at pretending.
We have no capacity do deal with a fake disease outbreak.

You have to be thoroughly incompetent to fail to deal with a fake disease outbreak.  For clarity, simulation is the same as mantloane. Little Thabo says he is the father and he acts like one. Little Limpho is the mother so she acts as such. Kotso barks because he says he is a dog.  That scenario, dear reader, is what was supposed to happen during the Ebola simulation last week.
Our lazy nurses and doctors were expected to act as if there was an Ebola outbreak. They couldn’t even pretend to be dealing with an imaginary Ebola case.
The health minister’s sensational statement portraying the simulation as a real outbreak did not help matters. The lesson one: we cannot deal with both real and fake diseases.
And we wonder why we still import toothpicks and toilet paper.

Here we go again, Basotho are kicking up another fuss over another non-event.
Nyoe, nyoe, nyoe, it’s disgraceful that Uncle Tom did not have speech at what looked like a press conference in Kenya.
Blah, blah, blah, he embarrassed the nation.

Let’s cut the crap and deal with the fundamental issue here.
The crux of the matter is that the whole visit was a useless junket for government officials to waffle and pontificate over things they will never implement.
It was just hallucinations on bilateral relations of inflated importance.

No major business deal will come out of that jamboree. Our trade with Kenya is tiny. Our cooperation is not based on country relations but regional and international organisations.
We will never pipe water to Kenya. Our cabbages, spinach and eggs will still come from the Free State. Our matekoane, the most important cash crop, is smoked by our brothers across the border.
There is nothing in the discussion between Uncle Tom and Uhuru that they could not have fixed with an email or call. A Whatsapp group would have connected everyone who was part of those meeting in Kenya.
Uncle Tom would have achieved more by meeting a mere director in the Free State government. More would have been accomplished if he had negotiated with a farmer across Mohokare to allow Basotho cattle to graze on his farm.

So our anger should not be about the missing speech but the value of the trip.
That Uncle Tom did not have a speech could be a reflection of how flippantly he regarded the trip. Muckraker suspects the trip was only organised because someone close to Uncle Tom felt the government could not collapse without them meeting a Masai man.

Either that or one of his advisors thought it will be good PR if Uncle Tom is not seen to be only prioritising trips that involve crossing oceans.
Uncle Tom did not have a speech because he had nothing important to say about the trip. It was just a talk show. Just another shindig for our government officials to get away from the mess they created in the country and make a little change in per diems.

Now that we have meticulously dismissed this brouhaha over a speech we turn to the small matter of forgetitise.
This again is a tempest in a tea cup. It was just a speech at the end of a bilateral visit.
Enough waffling had been done behind closed doors.

Worry not about the speech for it is not the most important thing Uncle Tom has forgotten since his return to power in 2017.
Under his leadership the government has forgotten pay suppliers M1 billion.
It cannot remember its campaign promises to root out corruption.

Now the rats are partying in the granary while their nephews play guards. Rats guarding rats. Don’t ask Muckraker who are the rats because they could be from any of the four clans manning our government.
If the speech is what gets your goat then you have a morsel of pig dung in your head. You don’t know the things that matter. You are the type that buys a broom when the family is starving.
More like a lousy father who chases after a troublesome rat when the house is burning. In short, you are a silly excuse of a Homo Sapien.
You worry about a speech when your government has forgotten that its role is to run the economy. You fume over a speech when the government had deliberately forgotten that our budget was not meant to fund their incessant globetrotting.

At the last count their gallivanting had gobbled over M200 million in eight months and the munching continues. Your government forgets that this country belongs to Basotho, not Chinese.
Now it’s spoiling a few Chinese with lucrative contracts while Basotho companies face bankruptcy. Tender regulations have been flagrantly ignored or deliberately violated so that Chinese companies can swim in our money.  Yet all you worry about is some speech in east Africa. Why the hell are you still breathing our oxygen here?

Nyoe, nyoe, nyoe now the world will laugh at us because our prime minister forgets his speech. Holy crap! We have always been an embarrassment.
We cannot feed our own people. We have spent nearly a billion on elections in the past few years when our people are starving.
Our politicians cannot make peace without foreign mediator.

We are permanently on SADC’s agenda because we cannot clean our own mess.
We have failed to work on reforms that are good for us and future generations.
The parliament is teeming with unmitigated idiots obsessed with feathering their nests. Crucial laws are gathering dust while they shriek over nonsense.
So just zip it about Uncle Tom embarrassing the country.

We are already an embarrassment to ourselves and the world. A people of common heritage and language who hate each other with a passion, is what we are.
Every Sunday its Hallelujah this and that yet our minds are breaming with evil plots against our brothers and sisters. We probably use knives to mark pages in our Bibles.
Our courts are working overtime to deal with political disputes that should be sorted under a tree in the village.
Nearly all our political quarrels can be resolved over a morabaraba game or a mug of hopose. But politicians are forever dragging each other to court.
And when the courts refuse to be hoodwinked by their shallow arguments they go after judges. Now you know the definition of an embarrassment. You are welcome!

Nka! Ichuuuuuuuuuuu!

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