THE festive season is upon us but that has not stopped our politicians from getting up to their usual high jinks.
You can always count on them to conjure something disgusting and outrageous, especially when a microphone is thrust in their face by bewildered reporters.
Last week it was DJ Waters’ turn to surprise and he did it in spectacular style.  There he was, in his usual in his soft voice, poking fun at the marriage between Uncle Tom and Mokola as if his to Size Two is not equally bizarre.  He said their love for high office and government power motivated them to put aside their differences to form a coalition.
“Their love for power and high office surpassed their differences,” he said.  Were it Muckraker asking him the questions she would have twisted her face and held her nose firmly. Or she could have simply said: “Look who is talking”.

Had those words been uttered by someone else Muckraker would have considered them illuminating.  But this is DJ Waters we are talking about, a man with a penchant for eloping with political enemies. His marriage to Uncle Tom turned out to be a sham when they started quarrelling days after the wedding. Uncle Tom screamed that he had married someone with long fingers while DJ Waters moaned that he eloped with a dictator.  It quickly became clear that they were doing a cohabitation of sorts. The divorce proceedings were brutal to their political parties, the ABC is out of power and the LCD has to live with the reality that its supporters cannot fill three chicken buses. But true to his nature, DJ Waters quickly entered the love market with gusto and out came his weird marriage to Size Two.  And that is what makes DJ Waters’ attack on Uncle Tom and Mokola blatantly hypocritical. Remember how some years ago he shoved Size Two out of the LCD while he insisted on calling him his political father.

He is my leader and I respect his so much, he would say even when Size Two was stuffing his things into a ha re eeng Thaba-Tseka bag.  He would maintain this posture even when Size Two was running across the political veld to the DC.  It was DJ Waters who knocked out Size Two with a thunderous Jackie Chan kick. For two years the mighty Size Two was roaming in the political Siberia, licking his wounds.  Rumour has it that he used his time away from the State House to work on his Camel-riding skills.  Now DJ Waters wants us to believe his relationship with Size Two has always been so cordial that their reunion was foretold in the Big Book. A stinking factoid is already in the making.   Yet those who use the internet for knowledge rather than porn viewing will know that DJ Waters is spinning an elaborate charade right before our eyes.

A diplomatic cable of 2009 reveals what DJ Waters thinks of Size Two as a political leader. He complained to Elizabeth Power, the US embassy’s deputy chief of mission, that Size Two had “dictatorial” tendencies.  Metsing said that despite his position as LCD secretary general, he has never been consulted by Mosisili about party policy or activities.
“Instead, Mosisili appears to receive guidance and support from hardliners in the party such as Minister of Local Government Pontso Sekatle,” the cable said.
“This reliance on Sekatle and others who encourage the Prime Minister’s distance from the opposition parties has caused factions within the cabinet, and Metsing feels that he is being sidelined.”

DJ Waters was saying Size Two’s brains are kept in a jar somewhere else. In other words, he is not in charge of what happens to them.
He meant Size Two was a pliable leader who has been hypnotised. That is as good as calling him a zombie. Phew!

Some readers have asked Muckraker to say a few words about the marriage between Mokola and Uncle Tom.  The answer is that it is too early to even contemplate them working together in government. That is because Mokola horribly miscalculated when he tried to ambush Size Two. The so-called vote of no confidence that has become the talk of town should have been made before they started their shenanigans in the DC. Mokola should have hoodwinked Size Two to believe that they are still on the same team. The problem is that they failed to keep their plot a secret. Now Size Two has swallowed the keys to parliament and spanked them out of the DC. All we can see are long faces. The Alliance of Democrats, as his party is known, might end up having to face the electorate even before it learns to wear pants without leaning against the wall.In the meantime he had to define his support base. Is he rural like the DC or urban like the ABC? Muckraker wonders which village bumpkin will believe his story.

Muckraker has had it to the back teeth with the so-called beauty pageants. Last week a reporter with a local Friday (sometimes Saturday) newspaper gave acres of space to what he called “beauties” who had failed to attend the Miss Heritage International pageant in Sri Lanka because they are broke. With tears streaming down their cheeks, the three ‘beauties’ moaned that NGOs had failed to live up to their promises to fund their trip. The government ignored our pleas, the garrulous one of the miserable trio said. Thotoane ‘Thot’ Motlomelo is her name. Why the reporter saw it was prudent to tell us that that her nickname is ‘Thot’, only he knows.

Muckraker has no qualms with naïve reporters who sometimes indulge their news sources. It is however apt to mention that “Thot”sounds more like “thought”.  That is hilarious because ‘Thot’ did not sound like she had put much thought into her ranting to the nobbled reporter.  Thoughtless Thot fumed as she attacked NGOs for making “empty promises” and the government for ignoring their pleas for help. The abiding reporter sounded like he was crying more than the bereaved.  “I knocked on every door for help,” Thot said as if someone else was supposed to do the knocking on her behalf or the world owes her something.  But that did not bother reporter Rethabile Mohono who kept quoting her obediently like he was writing the story while sitting on her “yellow bone” lap. The reporter should have his ears wringed for his sorry attempt to elevate a mediocre “profession” to a national issue.  There is nothing Lesotho benefits from sending some spoilt little rascals to a foreign land to stride a ramp half naked. It’s not as if Lesotho will lose anything if it doesn’t pay for their nude jamboree.

Motlomelo, her friends and ilk must go to school or work proper jobs if they want us to take them seriously. Until then they remain irritants crying over tosh. Those who choose puerile but pricey hobbies should have deep pockets.  Mohono is advised to find something useful to do instead of helping nonentities organise moaning parties.  For now Muckraker will spare the rod but if she sees one more story about those pathetic rascals masquerading as professionals he will get a good spanking.  There is no value in chasing pageants, wannabe hip hopartists and noisemaking DJs.  Oh, by the way, Muckraker wonders if the reporter realised that Thot also sounds like ‘tot’.  The jury is still out on what kind of “tot” he had before the interview.