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Joang vs Machesetsa



Let’s deal with two rumours before we delve into the pith of this week’s matter. One is nasty and the other one hilarious.
The first one is that a certain minister soiled himself at a rally.
The second is that some old horse at the Independent Electoral Commission (IEC) is hoofing employees because he wants his per diem so that he can indulge in his plane hopping hobby.
The issue is not whether the allegations about the minister are correct. What irritates Muckraker is that some perverted characters find the whole issue comical.

Even if we assume that it’s true, the point remains that a whole man soiling himself is no laughing matter because we really don’t know what could have triggered it.
It could be a serious health issue. Besides, there is no point making fun of a man who would have suffered such humiliation.
The rumour says the man sprinted from one toilet to the next in desperation but all were locked. That means he tried to do the right thing. The issue should be about the morons who lock toilets as if they are bedrooms.
Anyone who locks a pit latrine is mean. To the minister, Muckraker says: Worry not comrade for there is nothing to be ashamed of. What matters is that you did not spray someone with the stuff. Keep your head high.

Now let’s turn to the horse at the IEC. This one is comical because a former judge who is about to reach 80 years on this earth still insists on behaving like a teenager.
Muckraker is told that he has been bellowing at IEC employees who are reluctant to pay his per diems for some nonsensical junket he is planning.
He is lashing out at anyone who asks him about his contract. That’s because he has no contract and should not be getting a cent from the IEC. He is resorting to some pathetic argument about his contract being processed.

IEC officials are saying they don’t work on a promised contract but an actual contract. And that makes sense either way you look at it, unless you are some aging bully who wants to push his weight around.
You don’t pay someone based on a promised contract.
A promise of a contract is not a contract.
Anyone who thinks they have a right to enjoy the benefits of a promised contract is daft.
All this is happening because the old man is head-over-heels in love with aeroplanes.

Muckraker hears, from the rumour mill, that if the man wants to fly to Cape Town he will insist on first flying to Zambia, then Swaziland, then Johannesburg and then connect to Cape Town. All this because he wants to spend as much time as possible in a plane.
No wonder he starts all his sentences with statements like: “when I was in Edinburg”, “when I was in Zurich”, “when I was in Kampala”.
It’s a pity he cannot afford a personal jet.
Grow up Morena!

Political contests are supposed to be serious matters because they are about things that matter. So we thought, until Joang Molapo and Machesetsa Mofomobe started tussling for the deputy leader’s position in the Basotho National Party (BNP).
Molapo and Mofomobe have blatantly refused to infuse some substance into their contest.
Instead they are wallowing in the gutter with zest, each trying to prove that he is more childish than the other.
The result is balderdash of epic proportions.

What was supposed to be a battle of ideas and ideals has been turned into a street brawl where noses are split, eyes gouged and ears are wringed for no other reason apart from comparing who is the greatest.
In just seven days the two ministers have proven beyond reasonable doubt that they are political novices masquerading as leaders.
None wants to let go of the handful of mud he is holding. None is interested in rising above the bunkum this fight has become. We should be laughing were this not a reflection of the kind of characters in whose hands we have thrust the fate of this country.
How did a battle for a leadership position become so trivial yet so toxic?

Well, it all began when Molapo started crowing about his political credentials. He said he was a seasoned politician while Mofomobe was a prevaricating political upstart who does not keep his promises.
That sounded like fair campaign banter until Mofomobe raised the ante. The same could be said of his cheap shots about Mofomobe being ‘immature’ and ‘unfit’ to lead the party.
All those do not become true because Molapo has said so.
He is saying so because he has nothing more significant with which to undermine Mofomobe’s candidature.
If Mofomobe had any policy handicap Molapo would have said so. Immaturity and unfitness are matters of opinion, not fact.
But Mofomobe thought it was time to bring out his sjambok to whip Molapo. He said Molapo had globetrotted with a girlfriend on the government’s expense.

Ouch! It was a singing attack that got many rumour loving ears dancing with joy. Yet if Molapo was squirming in pain at that lash, then he should have steeled his body for something nocuous Mafomobe was cooking.
Mofomobe said Molapo was a MKP (Metsing-kissing-politician). Now that is below the belt because we all know that it has long become a crime to kiss Metsing. For those who don’t know, Metsing is that reviled leader of a once great party called the Lesotho Congress for Democracy. He is blamed for everything that has gone wrong in the country, including weather and soil erosion.
And these accusations stick because the man has neither charisma nor talent to defend himself. Those who pretend to speak on his behalf are charlatans who think shouting about Kamoli is the only political message there is to sell to a largely aloof public.

So when Mofomobe mentioned Molapo in the same sentence with Metsing he knew what he was getting at. Floored, Molapo scrambled for his own salvos.
He said Mofomobe was a little dictator who expels people from groups because he doesn’t tolerate dissenting voices.
He said Mofomobe threatens subordinates and pays people to keep his secrets safe.
He denied the girlfriend story and swore that he has only travelled with his wife.
Then as a parting shot he said he also has secrets on Mofomobe.
Now at this juncture Muckraker invites you (reader) to take a glass of water, sit on a rocking chair and think hard about what you have learned from this scurrilous episode. Here we go: 5, 4, 3, 2, 1. If you are still pondering this matter then you have a morsel of dung in your head.

There is nothing to preoccupy your mind here because this is just claptrap. That the two men are using such primitive political tools to knock each other out shows how low the BNP has sunk. No, Muckraker lies.
It is a reflection of the dearth of ideas within the BNP. The two men cannot debate issues because there are no issues to discuss. Little wonder only 30 000 out of the more than half a million registered voters found it was prudent to vote for the party. The party has been on a slippery slope for the past 30 years.
In each of the last three elections is has not gone beyond 40 000 votes.
The reason is clear: it is a party strangled by its toxic legacy.
Yet the likes of Mofomobe and Molapo, who should be addressing such issues, are majoring in minors.

Mafomobe talks about fornication as if that is something taboo in a country where hanky-panky is a national pastime.
If he thought he was exposing something scandalous then he missed the point. Zero point is what he gets.
Molapo talks about immaturity and unfitness in a country where almost every second person acts below their age and is holding a position way above their acumen and qualification.
We have incompetent judges, police officers, soldiers, teachers, directors, ministers and PSs.
So if Molapo thought he was on to something sizable then he went off topic. He too deserves a zero.
Their battle should be about who can take the party forward. Molapo should be telling us why he thinks his experience is crucial in the revival of the BNP’s waning fortunes.

As an engineer, he should be telling us how he will engineer the party’s growth and survival.
Mofomobe should be telling us how he will use his youthful exuberance to take the party to another level.
He should be telling us about his skills and not his rival’s alleged hanky-panky.
The only fornication he should be trying to stop is that of the BNP as a party. This is a party that has resorted to sleeping with other parties to get into power. Currently it is a loyal nyatsi to the ABC. No, it is doing much worse. It is having a foursome. It is in government because one of its boyfriends is a congress party. Phew!
It even slept with the LCD at one time. Who sleeps with the LCD, of all parties?
The only prostitution we should be talking about is that of the BNP. It is clear that the party would be nowhere near government if it did not prostitute.

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Let them take korobela



Nqosa Mahao has pulled a fast one on his opposition comrades to join Uncle Sam’s government. Muckraker suspected the bromance among the opposition leaders would end in tears but never expected Mahao to do the betraying. The lesson is that there is no honour among politicians and everyone has a price. The BAP’s price is two cabinet seats and some morsels to be flung its way here and there.
The opposition is furious at Mahao for stringing them along for three weeks while Uncle Sam whispered sweet little things in his ears.

They say Mahao attended their nocturnal meetings to plot Uncle Sam’s demise but was busy with a plan to get himself a mok’huk’hu in the government.
Their screams of anger are hypocritical. They too would have been charmed for the right price. Mahao just happened to have yielded earlier than them. None of them can claim that they were not approached by the RFP or its dealmakers.

No one could claim that they refused the RFP’s marriage proposal because they differed on ideology and principle. The only sticking issue was what was offered and what they thought their support was worthy. So let’s bin the hypocrisy and confirm that some of them overreached and overestimated their value by holding out for more spoils. It’s not their business if Mahao sold himself too cheap.

He was smart enough to understand that the market of political support was already flooded. That is being pragmatic.
In the end, it was a simple matter of demand and supply. Uncle Sam played the game well by lodging a scarecrow of a court case to delay the vote of no confidence to buy himself time. That blindsided the opposition leaders and allowed Uncle Sam to counterattack.

So while Lehata was laughing like a hyena in parliament and the opposition congregated at the BNP Centre for drinks Uncle Sam was cooking some delicious dish across town. It was only a matter of time before the aroma reached the politicians’ noses.

So while they were claiming to be united most of them were busy receiving calls to hear what was on the menu. It was a buffet of embassies and cabinet seats. The desserts were deputy minister positions and some small jobs for hungry supporters. The only problem with some of the opposition leaders was that they wanted to eat the whole buffet, including Uncle Sam’s portion.

Meanwhile, Uncle Sam was busy gauging what was enough to satiate the hungriest among the opposition leaders. In the end, he knew he didn’t have to part with much to get the deal and the numbers he wanted. Some politicians are saying Mahao could have asked for more because Uncle Sam was desperate and cornered. Not true!

Your tomatoes do not cost more simply because you worked hard to produce them or you think they are special. It’s the market that decides.
To get more for them you should get the timing right. The same applies to political support. Uncle Sam knew the market of political support would be oversupplied if he waited a few days before buying.

By the time he came to the market the available political support was about to rot and everyone was willing to sell at a huge discount. This is common sense but some opposition leaders want to pretend Mahao ambushed them by selling fast.

Muckraker suggests that next time they plot against Uncle Sam, the opposition leaders should visit a sangoma to give them all a huge dose of korobela so that none is tempted to find another lover. The best love portion comes from the North of us. Mwa, mwa, mwa!

Nka! Ichuuuuuuuuuuuu

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How to share a stolen goat



Those who think Uncle Sam is now safe from the barbarians at the gates are naïve. Mahao’s defection is a temporary setback from which the opposition leaders are plotting to recover.
They are coming because Uncle Sam is holding something they cannot live without: power.
And they will not rest until they get it. Those who believe this fight is based on principle and ideology are unmitigated dimwits. Their claim that Uncle Sam’s government has failed is just a cover to justify their plot. They know they would not do a better job.

Everyone knows that because they have seen their epic bungling when they had a chance to rule.
The notoriety of their thievery, corruption, deliberate mismanagement and nepotism precedes them. They say Uncle Sam has failed to implement his party’s campaign promises but forget that some of them failed several times. If this was about ideology and principle it would reflect in the negotiations for coalitions. In countries where politicians still have morsels of self-respect and specks of shame, such negotiations would be dominated by ideological and policy considerations.

Political parties try to find some common ground on fundamental issues like the economy, education, climate change, trade and foreign policy.
Our rascals here talk about ministerial and diplomatic positions as if they are sharing a stolen goat; I want the head, give me likahare.

My ancestors said I should always eat the testicles. Give me the liver, I don’t have teeth. The heart is my favourite. In a way, our government is like a stolen goat being shared by thieves. Ba ja maleo.

It’s a fat goat stolen from Basotho. The politicians will eat it and not leave even the skin for Basotho to make a mat to lay on when hungry. The thieves are eating while the people watch.

Yet we people never tire to give the politicians the permission to rob and pee on them.
It’s tempting to say we deserve it but no one, not even the Devil, deserves the politicians we have in this country. Some say there is hell somewhere. Muckraker says we are already in a hell of some sort created by our politicians. We are being roasted slowly by politicians and they will never stop.

Does that make you feel depressed and hopeless? Well, you are not alone. There are worse places on this earth. Does that mean we should accept tosh because there is worse tosh in other places?
Well, it’s your choice.

Muckraker wishes you a wet weekend. Let’s hope Uncle Sam throws us a party to celebrate his great escape. You marched for him, didn’t you?
A beer is what you deserve for sweating from Maseru Mall to parliament.

Nka! Ichuuuuuuuuuuuu

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Give Lehata a Bell’s



Mootsi Lehata behaved like a clown in parliament last week. Laughing like he was in a shebeen. Spewing insults as if someone had stolen his goats. He even used the ‘F’ word on Lejone Mpotjoane.
“Moshanyana enoa a se ke a ntella. Se ke oa ntella sonny, f**k you,” he said in response to Mpotjoane. Muckraker doesn’t know Mpotjoane to be a moshanyana. What she knows is what Lehata did to a ngoanana a few years ago.

The girl dropped the rape case on the condition that Lehata builds her a house and pays for the child’s upkeep. So ke eena ea tellang molao. Some might say it’s water under the bridge but Muckraker doesn’t forgive. Never!

For now, we should talk about his monkeyshines in parliament. He looked high on something. Lehata can however deny it. He can say he was shaking because he had spent sleepless nights plotting to topple Uncle Sam. He can claim he was shaking with excitement at the prospect of becoming a minister again. If that doesn’t cut it he can say wasn’t drunk but just suffering from a hangover.

That might work because he could say those who say he was drunk on that Monday should have seen him on Sunday. He could claim he was still suffering the effects of knocking down several bottles taller than him.
But whatever happens, no one can prove that he was high.

Yes, a test could have revealed that he had blood in his alcohol but that is now beside the point because it didn’t happen. In any case, Muckraker has seen worse things in parliament. Remember how some MPs spanked each other a few years ago?

Chairs and bins were given wings. An MP was once captured on camera groping another.
As for insults, worse things have been said. Some of the MPs don’t need to be insulted to feel humiliated. Imagine how it feels to be an LCD MP.
You see it in their faces that they are beating themselves.

No wonder they are not even mentioned as part of the opposition. They are not in opposition, not government and not in the crossbench. They are there, somewhere there.

Muckraker would not sleep well if she ended these musings without mentioning one small thing. During the debate on Lehata’s tomfoolery, one opposition MP said the Speaker should protect MPs so that their images are not manipulated to tarnish their reputation. Yeah, right!

You must have a reputation first for it to be tarnished. Muckraker and 98.9 percent of Basotho know 99 percent of our MPs to be freeloading, greedy and power-hungry charlatans.
That is their reputation. Those who say our MPs are honest and hardworking are tarnishing that sterling reputation.

Nka! Ichuuuuuuuuuuuu

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