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Let’s be ruled

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IT is not often that regret is instant and laughter lasts for months.
Yet that is precisely happening here.

Hundreds of thousands of people have come to rue the day they stitched their votes together to make a parachute that delivered Uncle Tom and his battalion into government.
They are squirming and they will keep wriggling.

And there is nothing much they can do to change their misery for they leased the parachute to Uncle Tom for a solid five years.
Now as desperation turns to anger many are hoping for Parliament, the same place teeming with lousy but loud rent-seeking and blindly loyal MPs, to upend the government.
Muckraker will not burst the bubble because keeping a flicker of hope alive is good for the soul and sanity.
While those who thought their votes would deliver them to the Promised Land are bellowing, as they roast in the fire of the government’s bungling and mediocrity, one man is having the last laugh and he is laughing loudest.

His name is Size Two, the camel farmer who was blamed for all our ills, including the droughts and the cold weather.
There was a time when even things like anthrax and rabies were blamed on Size Two.
A flu bug was his doing. A dumped nyatsi would point fingers at him.

He was the bogeyman who had to be dragged out of power kicking and screaming.
Emphatically defeated, Size Two packed his ha re eng Thaba Tseka, bid us farewell and found a comfy stone on which to perch himself at his Roma house.
It wasn’t long before he was rolling with laughter as the new guys quickly got busy pushing the frontiers of mediocrity.
Even those who cursed him when he was the captain are telling him that he was better at steering this rotten ship. He answers them with the same deep laughter he has been having since June 2017, when he was dispatched from power.

It is not that Size Two was an astute manager. He too stumbled along and made horrible mistakes.
The ship was not sailing smoothly when he was in charge.
He too sailed it into tempests, with his eyes wide open.

By the time he was forced into early retirement the vessel was battered, but it wasn’t sinking.
The difference is that Uncle Tom, the new captain, doesn’t seem to have a clue about the compass points. North, south, west and east seem the same to him.
Confused about the right way to the mainland, he has just anchored the ship to snooze on the controls.
At least with Size Two we knew that we had an incompetent captain in charge.
He wasn’t doing a great job but we knew he was trying his best.

The task was too big for both his skills and talents but he compensated for those disabilities with effort which was sometimes misdirected.
Today we have a captain we thought would do a splendid job but seems to have lost his bearings.
Many who voted for him say he is no longer in charge because there is a new captain sailing us right into storms. They say behind the “she” captain is a battalion of freeloading schemers who don’t care if we end up at the bottom of the sea.

It is tempting to say we are getting our pudding for judging a book by its cover.
That would however be wrong. Those who voted for Uncle Tom knew what they wanted and sincerely believed he would deliver.
The only problem is that they overestimated his energy, talent and skill.

But despite all these failures Muckraker still thinks it will be unfair to push out Uncle Tom before his term ends. Shoving him out prematurely will cut our lesson short.
Our votes are the school fee which is supposed to take us through five years of education.

We willingly paid those fees in advance. There are no refunds in politics. Our education should continue until the next election.
The idea is that by then we would have learned that politicians don’t give a damn about us.
The stampede we are seeing at the feeding trough today is not new.

The only difference is that whereas Size Two’s gang had stuffed their mouths so much that they were now eating slowly, Uncle Tom’s battalion is full of emaciated troops in a feeding frenzy.
They are playing catch-up because they have been hungry for too long.

Who can blame them: experience has taught them that this bounty will not last for long.
Like cows, they would rather eat now and chew the cud later.

They know for sure that there will be no consequences when we eventually see the ruinous effects of their hungry mouths and long fingers on the national purse.
After all, fellow congress thieves are still freely munching stolen goods with gusto.
They have learned the drill fast.

To remove them from the pot will be unfair. We gave the last bunch nearly two decades to rob us blind.
Why should this gang be yanked out after only two years? What injustice is that?
You may be shocked by Muckraker’s views but that is the reality of our country.
Voters are in the business of replacing looters with looters. Despite our denials, our votes remain their meal tickets. So let Uncle Tom rule until his term is done.

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Prayer for the losers

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Remember to pray for Joang Molapo, Tlohelang Aumane and Khothatso Tsooana. They are all licking their wounds after being clobbered in the RFP primaries.

The people of Maputsoe were not impressed by Joang’s pretentious English accent. At least he is not bellowing like he did when he was spanked by Chessman in the BNP. Back then he cried as he packed his bags to join the AD.

Now he has to look for another home that tolerates those who speak English through the nose. Shibilishibilishibili. Muckraker wishes him well because although he is a mediocre politician, Joang is a good human being.

Aumane lost because he is a political prostitute. Yeh, I said it! And I will say it again before the cock crows thrice. Muckraker can prove that beyond reasonable doubt. The man defected from the DC to join the AD because he was promised a ministerial position. When the AD ran out of its sweetness, he jumped to the RFP.

The RFP however saw through his monkey tricks and rejected him in the primaries. Not here, the RFP people said. But Aumane is not one to spend too long in an unsatisfying political bed.

He is now rumoured to have crawled into bed with the Socialist Revolutionaries. Socialists led by a machonisa. Socialists who drive a million rand car. Phew.

Do they even know what socialism is about? Or maybe they think socialism is the same as socialising. Aumane will not ask those questions because they will interfere with his kuenalisation. He stands for nothing and believes in nothing. He is just a political opportunist. He can sell a relative for bus fare.

As for Tšooana, Muckraker can only say tough luck. He is a typical example of what happens when you run away from an apprenticeship. Clearly, Uncle Tom had not finished training him. It’s not for nothing that he was a PS.

Nka! Ichuuuuuuuuuuu!

muckraker.post@gmail.com

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Mahaletere’s tongues

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Did you hear the hilarious joke from that overrated one called Mahaletere? He had a rally in Mohale’s Hoek where he was speaking in tongues. He obviously learnt a few things from his papa, Bushiri. Bushiri, however, did not bother to learn proper English pronunciation from Mahaletere.

The thieving midget still calls Rands Laands, victory is victorly, malaria is maralia, Luke is Ruku and dilemma is diyirema. But this is not about Bushiri. It’s about Mahaletere’s hallucination. He said the AD will win many constituencies in Mohale’s Hoek including Mpharane as they have worked hard to campaign.

“We will win others which I know, but I should not tell you so that the candidates continue to work hard there,” he said.

He also said the AD will beat many parties to the extent that other leaders will lose their minds and have to be admitted at “Mohlomi Mental Hospital”. Muckraker does not know whether to laugh or cry. What she knows for sure is that anyone who remains in the AD needs counselling.

Nka! Ichuuuuuuuuuuu!

muckraker.post@gmail.com

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The RFP’s rough play

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MUCKRAKER is having the last laugh as Uncle Sam shreds the rule book of democracy with vim. There is mayhem in the RFP as those who have failed to make it to the list of Uncle Sam’s A Team throw tantrums like kids denied lipong-pong.

You could see the pain on their dejected faces at a press conference they held to moan about their treatment. Muckraker thought she saw one of them wiping a tear.

To add chillies to the wounds Uncle Sam waited until some of the candidates had won the primary elections before picking his team. It’s as if he wanted to send a crude message by making it excruciating.

What is becoming clear is that this is not about meritocracy but Uncle Sam’s whims. You don’t know whether he is using intuition or he gets the message in his dreams.

Either way, it’s a brutal method. It might as well be that he is either rolling dice.
Ke mang ea jeleng
Bohobe ba Ntate
A lala a phinya
Bosiu kaofela
Lekopo-kopo tuee!

Or maybe it’s Biblical. “The last shall be first and the first last,” Jesus says in the Gospel of Matthew. Uncle Sam must have been laughing as he watched the aspiring candidates unleashing sharp elbows on each other in the primaries.

He must have chuckled when he received the final list of the candidates from the constituencies. He then took out a red pen, kicked out his shoes and started editing the list. Moving number six to number one. Number five to number one.

Then he called the candidates to tell them what he had done before making the announcement. Muckraker hears the RFP was kind enough to hire a psychologist to help those edited out of the list to cope with the trauma. Ouch!

Those whose minds could not be repaired by the shrink were consoled by promises of some posts somewhere in the government. A government that might not be formed. It’s some special kind of therapy. You deny a person the right to represent the party after winning a primary election. When they scream you send them for counselling.

If they are still sore and sour you promise them some position in a government that you are not even guaranteed to form.

Muckraker suspects the psychologist was not there to help the candidates recover from their disappointment. Rather, it was the party’s way to evaluate why those candidates thought they could just walk from the primaries straight to the national election without being scrutinised by the leader.

What were they thinking? Who did they think they are?

They are now asking Uncle Sam to explain the criteria he used to select the candidates. That just shows why they need counselling.

Who are they to ask what an owner does with his party?

Did they really think their few dozens of votes in the primaries would matter to the leader?

One excitable fellow who won a primary election after giving his constituency M500 000 for electrification did not make it to Uncle Sam’s list.

Uncle Sam was teaching him a lesson never to use his peanuts to buy votes.

He cannot ask for a refund because the villagers delivered their end of the bargain by electing him. What happened when the results landed on Uncle Sam’s desk is not their business. It serves him right. This is a year of political lessons.

Meritocracy is being redefined. Thebe-ea-Khale is among the best minds in the RFP. Don’t laugh. This is not funny. Minds are going to be lost here. Things are rough.

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