Muckraker: Bedroom coup

Muckraker: Bedroom coup

BY the time you read this Robert Gabriel Mugabe, Africa’s last-standing wrong man who ruled Zimbabwe as if it was his chicken run, would probably have fallen. We should not be astounded by the sudden turn of events, for falling from grace is always the endgame for dictators.
Mugabe’s fall does not provide any fresh lessons in African politics. Rather, it merely confirms those we have learned over the years: The end always comes for dictators and in a humiliating way.

Mugabe and his family are under house arrest, quaking in their boots as they wait for the army to decide their fate.
It is an irony with a tinge of hilarity that it is the army, the very institution that has been the cornerstone of Mugabe’s brutal rule, which has led to his demise. Karma, they say, is a bitch. Baboons are running for cover.

There are those who say Zimbabweans are naïve to celebrate the replacement of a dictator with a military junta. That is fine and dandy but it negates that which motivates the celebrations.
The army has always been the chief’s bulldogs that menaced the villagers. Now that the vicious bulldogs have turned on their master the villagers see no problem.

Of course they might rue embracing the bulldog as a new master but for now they are happy with any reprieve they can get. That is how Zimbabweans are desperate: they don’t care who replaces Mugabe as long as he is replaced.
At this moment they can even accept a pig or baboon as a leader as long as they see Mugabe’s back.

It is not that Mugabe was an entirely terrible human being. His legacy shows that he educated his people and restored land back to the blacks. Cheers to that. But all that pales in comparison to the suffering he has caused his people.
For the past 20 years Mugabe has worked overtime to undermine that legacy.
Slowly but surely he has impoverished his people with reckless economic policies unbefitting of a man with several degrees, including one in economics.

Not content with rigging elections Mugabe has proceeded to meticulously bludgeon the opposition under the guise that he is protecting his country from re-colonisation. He has maimed opponents, nobbled the media and clobbered those within his circle he thought were getting too ambitious.
Sovereignty has been used as a cover to push back at international critics. Elections have been stolen hand over fist.
While at all these he has conveniently forgotten that his responsibility is to make Zimbabwe a better place for its people. The result is that millions have fled the debilitating poverty to seek refuge in places hostile to them.

Those who have remained have largely become vendors hawking second-hand clothes and trinkets. All the while his family and members of the inner circle live like kings amid vulgar levels of poverty.

Yet we should not forget that Mugabe was not a lone ranger in the mission to destroy the once flourishing country.
The army that has upended his rule played a significant role in that brazen plunder.
Those around him contributed immensely to the mess as they stuffed their already deep pockets with stolen wealth.
But perhaps the real reason Mugabe has fallen with a thud is not because he was a hopelessly incompetent manager of the economy. It has always been clear that the man was an empty orator. He can arouse the masses but not the economy. Away from politics Mugabe cannot manage himself out of a paper bag.

He is incompetent to the level that you would think he was trained to be sloppy.
Mugabe is being booted out for failing to manage the politics in his own party.
Precisely, he allowed his garrulous and greedy wife to manipulate him into turning against his comrades.

Grace, a former typist who fornicated with Mugabe as his Ghanaian wife was on her deathbed, had become the troublemaker in both party and government. Her rise was as sudden as it was shocking. Until 2013 Grace was well known for her shopping trips, fashion and a little bit of charity.
Her power was largely confined to the bedroom and the kitchen. Then things began to change as it became clear that age had stolen Mugabe’s mental faculties.

Every morning she would wake up to watch her husband, half a century her senior, wasting away. She knew it was only a matter of time before the old man kicked the bucket, to leave her at the mercy of hungry and angry jackals in the party.
So she entered the fray with gusto and recklessness.

She did not do so by building her own support base because even rats in Zimbabwe know that she is a political nonentity gifted with neither oratorical skills nor a good head on her proud shoulders.
Her only way was to get the old man to do her bidding. And he could not refuse because he had no capacity to think for himself.

The bedroom pressure started. The pillow talk intensified until the old man succumbed. First, they used trumped-up charges and allegations to boot out Mugabe’s deputy.
Next to be side-lined were the war veterans who had stood by Mugabe since before Independence in 1980. Comrades were purged at Grace’s behest.
Then this year she upped the ante and went after Mugabe’s other deputy. Her plan was to be the deputy while her husband breathes his last breath when he has been called yonder.

So the deputy was accused of disloyalty and deceit. He was kicked out of the government and party, forcing him to skip into exile.
But events this week have shown that she horribly miscalculated.
Mugabe, her willing horse to power, has been mortally injured.

Without the army’s support Mugabe is lower that a village sub-chief. With the army against him, Mugabe is a goner. The lesson here for any leader – whether political, corporate or religious – is that allowing pillow talk to cloud your decisions leads to peril. The rule is that you should listen but never implement unless you are cork sure that it’s the right thing to do. This also applies to female leaders whose husbands want to push their own agendas. The reason is simply that you are at your most vulnerable moment, physically, mentally and emotionally, when in bed.

Those smart enough to follow Muckraker will remember what she has called the 30-minute rule. Today she repeats it because a little bird has whispered to her that Grace has a lot of admirers. Mmmmmm, do you get her drift?
Mmmmmm, thank your parents for those genes that power your mind.

The crux of the rule is that anything said 30 minutes before and 30 minutes after the act in the bedroom should be ignored as just nonsense.
We have all said things we don’t really mean during those moments of pleasure.
Some have spoken in tongues while others have insulted their mothers.
Fantastic promises have been made.

Broke men have committed to buying houses and cars. Women in menopause have promised to deliver babies.
It’s all part of the game but we should never take those words to heart.
In that time we are momentarily mad.

It is therefore a sign of craziness to then take those words and use them to make decisions.
Muckraker says this with a straight face because it’s a lesson we should all learn. Don’t say she didn’t play her Aunty role when things start falling apart.

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