Thakalekoala loses his bite

Thakalekoala loses his bite

MUCKRAKER has never been one to gloat about her wise words coming to pass.
Only arrogant and holier-than-thou charlatans find pleasure in saying “I told you so”.

So she will not pile scorn on Thabo Thakalekoala, who was recently forcefully evicted from his office as the Prime Minister’s senior private secretary.

What’s left to say is: “Goodbye and have a good time hunting for a job, chief”.
That is not to mock the man. Nor is it my intention to kick him when he is down.

Tempting as it might be, Muckraker will resist the lure to unleash her stilettos on the man. This daughter of Mafube has never been turned on by randomly kicking people.

When she kicks she aims at the mouth to knock out teeth. The trouble is that Thakalekoala doesn’t have many teeth left to kick out. So let him keep his molar and hope he saved enough money for a dentist to save what remains of his choppers.

Today’s business is to deal with Thakalekoala’s uncouth but hilarious reaction to being emptied onto the streets. Instead of quietly packing his pens and shabbily written speeches, the man kicked and screamed as the police dragged him out.

By so doing he exposed his desperation and lack of finesse.
Clutching at straws, the man who likes to portray himself as Lesotho’s journalism guru even conjured up some silly lies.

First, he manufactured the fiction that a senior private secretary to a prime minister is senior to a principal secretary.
It is not clear from which junction of his mind he pulled such tosh.
Suffice to say that even goats are still laughing at that inane argument.
There is no point in wasting words schooling him on the workings of government.

Thakalekoala has never been known for intellectual stamina but surely he should know that a person whose job is to write speeches for a prime minister and carry his bags, cannot be senior to a chief accounting officer of a ministry.

Unless, of course, he deliberately missed the ‘secretary’ part of his title. Perhaps he wants to seize upon the ‘senior’ in his title. Either way, such crippled logic did not save him.
When his shrieks about his imagined seniority came to naught, Thakalekoala bellowed that his position is not predicated on Uncle Tom’s.
But that too quickly evaporated when the law refused to bend to his frivolity.

He obviously could not fathom why Majoro had no use for him. Moeketsi (the one who adds) refused to add.
So off he jumped to another dry twig. He said Lefu Manyokole was being rude. Heele!

How is that news in Jerusalem? Manyokole oa nyokola.
Thakalekoala should look at the meaning of his name for an explanation of how things turned out. He has been nyokolaid.
What however stole the cake was his protest that he cannot be fired like “a garden-boy”. In other words Thakalekoala was saying he is better that a garden-boy.

Let that sink in before Muckraker adds her two cents. Now, take a breath. Here we go! There is no argument that Thakalekoala is miles below a gardener.
Gardeners are hired on the basis of skill and experience. Thakalekoala’s only claim to fame is that he was Uncle Tom’s Chihuahua for years. If that amounts to experience then Leabua Jonathan was a white man.

The only added advantage on his resume is that he was in exile with Uncle Tom. Gardeners are interviewed for a job while Thakalekoala was hired as he munched poone with Uncle Tom in Ficksburg. If that riles him then he can tell us who interviewed him.

His idea of a gardener is that of an unskilled primary school dropout whose job is to sweep peach leaves. He doesn’t know that today’s gardener, with the pompous title of landscape designer, is a highly qualified professional.
Yet we must forgive Thakalekoala because he is talking about the gardener from Molomo oa Mphi, his village that he always touts as if it is in Dubai.
Nyoe, nyoe, nyoe and nyoe ke moshan’a Molomo-oa-Mphi.

Gardeners clean the yard and grow food. Thakalekoala cleaned nothing and grew nothing during his stint. His only achievement was to “grow” a speech that Uncle Tom forgot to read in Kenya. A pot belly filled with per diems followed thereafter. Now go to Gbets and bet on that tummy shrinking fast.

Gardeners are fired while Thakalekoala was evicted. There is an important difference here and it’s not just semantics. You see, you don’t bring in the police when you want to fire your gardener. Rather, you only say: “Vamoose”.

The gardener will never say you cannot fire him because his tomatoes are not ripe or that he was hired by your wife or he is senior to a maid. Thakalekoala wasn’t fired, his job vanished.
Mosebetsi oa hae o ile le mouoane. He must blame it on the rising sun. La-chaba!

You know you are a nonentity when your job ends as soon as your boss is gone.

Manyokole did not have to tell Thakalekoala that his job was over because it was obvious that he never worked for the government but Uncle Tom.
He only had to remind Thakalekoala to follow the gardeners and maids who were serving Uncle Tom and the Feselady. Muckraker doubts anyone in Maseru will hire Thakalekoala as a gardener. He is not fit for purpose. No one wants a gardener who refuses to be fired and needs a TLB to be uprooted from his job. Yellow plant for what?

You might have noticed that Muckraker is not describing anyone as a ‘garden boy’ because that is a derogatory and racist term. Thakalekoala’s mind doesn’t have the ‘teeth’ to grasp such obvious things.

Nka! Ichuuuuuuuuuuu!

muckraker.post@gmail.com

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