Screwing the Nacosec crew

Screwing the Nacosec crew

Muckraker commiserates with the Nacosec workers who have not been paid for months. But she cannot say she didn’t see it coming.
Even a donkey in Nyakosoba would have predicted this debacle with precision.

The malice here is not sophisticated.
The misery Nacosec officials are enduring illustrates everything wrong about Lesotho. We are a vindictive and quarrelsome lot.
The civil servants that were booted out of the Covid-19 Command Centre of Feasting have thrown banana peels on the way and the new Nacosec team is skidding and tumbling.

They are reeling from hunger while the culprits are rolling with laughter. Such is our dark humour.
Thabo Khasipe eventually packed his bags after he was sabotaged until his head was spinning.
A few more weeks in that thankless job he would have developed Arnold Schwarzenegger’s monstrous muscles from knocking on government doors to beg for resources.

He stopped before his muscles were bulging but there is no doubt that his hands were still swollen from flogging a dead donkey.
The civil servants and some ministers were so mischievous that they kept telling him that the donkey could be resuscitated.
“Shapa ntate!” they said.

They cheered him on when they knew they had poisoned the donkey eons back.
Khasipe, obviously oblivious to the wily battalion he was dealing with, kept on flogging. At one point it was so pathetic that Muckraker felt like telling him to stop before he broke his back.
But the man was so committed to making things work that any whisper into his ears would have been interpreted as sabotage.

It’s good he eventually smelt the stench and ran back to the tax authority.
The trouble here is that we can smile while lacing your drink with a potent potion that will send you to your ancestors.
We are just a conniving and malicious people. This explains why we pretend to be well-mannered and polite while our hearts simmer with hatred.

We can smile at you while plotting the most nefarious things against your family.
The best invention this country can get is a machine that distinguishes between genuine and fake smiles.
That machine should also tell us if “lumela” actually means “screw you”.
We deserve to know if “how are you?” means “U s’u tla bona ‘Mopi” (you will soon see your maker).

The Nacosec officials are learning this too late.
The congratulatory messages they received when they got the jobs were curses.
More like saying “good for you but we shall see if you will eat that money”.
Now they are being sent from pillar to post.
First, they were told that Nacosec was an illegal animal trying to munch government money. When that was cleared they were told they were not properly hired.

That excuse would soon fall off but new ones were concocted.
Now it’s some ridiculous story about files not being opened.
You would think those files come from the moon and those who open them are waiting for a signal from Moses. And so the process drags on.
The lesson from all this is not that people treat each other badly because that is an ancient fact. Rather, it is that here we have a certain brand of hatred.

The kind that doesn’t need motivation or instigation to manifest itself.
You don’t need to have wronged a person for them to hate your guts. Here we are cruel for no reason. We can work vigorously to sabotage a person whose downfall will not improve our station or situation in life. It’s not competition but just unadulterated malice. We are glad when others join us in misery. Phew. And we wonder why the rains are not coming. Repent!

Nka! Ichuuuuuuuuuuu!

Previous The story of evil
Next Mehalalitoe battle-ready

Warning: count(): Parameter must be an array or an object that implements Countable in /home/thepostc/public_html/wp-content/themes/trendyblog-theme/includes/single/post-tags-categories.php on line 7

About author

You might also like


Gigaba and his things

THIS column has a PG18 rating this week. Not that there is much our so-called teenagers don’t know about anatomy: they are probably nastier than you think. It’s just that


Sleeping on the job

Muckraker had barely started her jalopy in Mafube when the Covid-19 storm she predicted a week before the new year crashed into Maseru. It was obvious that the country was


Oh, Ramatsella!

Ramatšella, Ramatšella, Ramatšella! Where art thou? 60!  That’s how many people rewarded him for his garrulous ways? Phew! 60! It is a scandal of epic proportions that only 60 people