Meet the real bombs

Meet the real bombs

Hooray, the army is sending soldiers to help deal with the insurgency in Mozambique.
Muckraker thinks this is the best thing that has ever happened to our largely idle military.
For too long, they have pretended to be busy with something they called “internal threats”.

Because they have nothing much to do, they have deliberately stretched the definition of “internal threats” to mean almost anything.
They have been busy chasing cattle rustlers in the veld.
Excessively clobbering goat thieves in the name of fighting crime. Spanking people who violate lockdown regulations.
They even have a rehabilitation centre for gangsters. When there are no people to beat, some of them get up to mischief.
All this boils down to an army that has nothing serious to do.

One that has never seen real combat and whose members are itching for some action. You see this in the bulging tummies some of them have amassed.
Some should be Sumo wrestlers instead of soldiers. Muckraker swears some will faint if asked to jog around the barracks.
Little wonder their football team is pathetic.
The deployment will show our army what an ‘internal threat’ looks like.
After this operation, they will stop this nauseating business of deliberately confusing a fart in the streets of Maseru for a bomb blast.

Only when they deal with an enemy tanker will they understand that a 9mm is a toy gun to be handled by Molibeli’s people, not soldiers. It takes an encounter with a grenade launcher to realise that the army has no business playing ‘social worker’ on gangsters.
Upon their return from Mozambique, the Commander should ask them to write compositions about their experience. It doesn’t have to be anything complicated. Just a few lines about the years they will never forget. More like those high school compositions about the day you will never forget.
You can imagine the fantastic stories that will come out.

“We were sleeping when we heard boom, boom, boom. It was a bomb. Real bomb that can kill motho. I was so sacred that I did urine on myself. I run for cover behind bush but bomb has blown the bush. I jump into whole and start crying. I pray to balimo to save me. I see big tanker coming for me. I faint for fear. Bo Ntate, we have been playing here. I now know real war.”
Another one: “It was sunny Monday when attack start. Me, I was drinking team. Then I hear people say take cover, take cover, take cover. I tell Khotso to find my gun but he says find it yourself.

I say I am your boss and he say you are my boss when chasing cattle thieves in Qacha, not in this war in Mozambique. I say eish, you are right Ntate. Let’s run.
Or this one: “Me cannot say much becoz that war is bad. Very bad. All I can say is that I see real war.”
But jokes banter aside, Muckraker wishes our soldiers well. This is a noble cause.

Nka! Ichuuuuuuuuuuu!

muckraker.post@gmail.com

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