MUCKRAKER had a chuckle after reading what sounded like a preposterous statement from a senior army officer last week.
During the graduation of 310 trainees Colonel Mabote Sekoboto said “children of nowadays do not have strong bones so they get broken easily”.
Colonel Sekoboto’s solution is that young people should drink lots of milk, do manual work and walk.
It’s a pity though that the army does not run a dairy farm to bring trucks of milk to our villages.
Colonel Sekoboto should be careful not to insult poor people by suggesting that they drink lots of milk. The last time Muckraker checked most people in this country were having “lots” of water because they don’t have enough food.
To say those people should now start having lot of milk as if the milk comes out of a village well is scandalous.
Colonel Sekoboto probably grew up surrounded by lots of cows.
Good for him!
But he should not expect that to be the norm. Times have changed. Poverty has laid eggs in this country.
As for the bit about walking long distances Muckraker would like to remind the colonel that not allof us have those huge boots soldiers get for free.
In any case to walk long distances, you must be well fed. Where was he when it was announced that there will be a drought this year?
When it comes to his sentiments about young people doing manual work Muckraker can ask the army to lead by example.
They are well fed but they don’t do much manual work. Let the soldiers lead by example. After all they are the ones trained to ignore pain.
Trouble in paradise. That’s what Muckraker thought when she heard of the brouhaha in the Basotho National Party (BNP), a party with little support but huge connections.
It was only a matter of time before the tomfoolery started festering in that party that is haunted by its own wicked past.
Yes, the BNP’s past is not only stinky but also despicable. If that pricks your flesh as a BNP zealot then go tell it to the mountain. The truth hurts. History is stubborn. Muckraker doesn’t give a rat’s behind if you lose your head with anger. Someone somewhere was bound to get up some high jinks. And sure enough secretary general Lesojane Leuta set the ball rolling recently with his inquisitive barbs that have riled the leadership.
Leuta is asking about money, an emotive subject in most political parties. He wants to know why a party with buildings can claim to be as broke as a church mouse.
That’s more like a deacon asking a Pentecostal church pastor why he claims poverty when the people are paying their tithes with gusto.
Leuta has a right to ask that question even if the leaders think he is poking his nose where it doesn’t belong. As secretary general he should get answers about the party’s finances.
Unfortunately BNP leaders are not used to being asked tricky questions. So instead of answering his question the leaders have decided to clobber him.
Clobbering, by the way, is synonymous with the BNP’s history. For evidence of that flip the pages of history to the 1970s when the party used a knobkerrie called the army against those who had won an election fair and square.
Leuta must not scream because the party is only teaching him some historical lessons. Leuta is also correct to ask about the money because, if the truth be told, the BNP is generating some money from its buildings.
The problem with Leuta though is that he behaves like a political novice. First, he asks the question to people he knows will not answer.
Second, he keeps asking when no one is answering.
Third, he goes to the streets to shout his question. Recently he was in the media asking the same inconvenient question.
The man cannot possibly understand that such questions are not asked until you have amassed enough evidence to point a finger at someone in the party. Or you simply catch someone with their hands in the cookie jar before you start asking the question.
If the money was indeed stolen Leuta’s loud month has only helped make it harder to find. While Leuta was shouting like a mad man the thief, if there is one, is covering his tracks.
For shouting without evidence Leuta is now being shoved out of the party. His questions will soon be forgotten as he sinks into political oblivion.
If you want to understand what poor Leuta is up against then you should read a story in the Sunday Express.
There the leader Thesele ’Maseribane and spokesperson Machesetsa Mofomobe took turns to wring Leuta’s ears.
’Maseribane said Leuta should find the shortest route to a hospital. Mofomobe said Leuta is behaving like a cornered cat and is about to ‘rain’ on himself. Both men sounded like thugs rather than politicians.
They spoke with the abrasiveness of village bumpkins. On one level ’Maseribane and Mofomobe have a similar problem: both do not have a sense of occasion. They speak because someone has asked them to.
To them silence is a sign of weakness. Because there is nothing substantial in their heads to sustain their overworking mouths they end up just talking drivel.
On another level the two men are totally different: ’Maseribane is a bully while Mofomobe is a bandwagon rider.
’Maseribane insults because he thinks he can while Mofomobe insults because everyone else is insulting. They both suffer from verbal diarrhoea though.
The market of rascals
THE Market’s management is either high on something illegal or just reckless.
They could also be either proudly incompetent or simply daft.
Muckraker suspects they are high, reckless, incompetent and daft.
That is a heavy burden to carry but self-inflicted and deserved.
Instead of just acknowledging the alleged incident, The Market was sweating to testify, analyse evidence, scrutinise footage and play judge.
They say she had left an “unpaid bill” at another restaurant as if they were the Small Claims Court.
They were gathering wood for a pyre to burn the woman and her allegations.
They do this by telling what they believe to be a cogent tale to illustrate that her story is incredible.
They say the gentleman from another restaurant who is “well known to The Market staff” claimed that the woman had left an unpaid bill. That is not some random anecdote but an attempt to justify why they allowed him into the bar after they had closed.
As soon as the narration started Muckraker knew The Market was on an evil path.
And boy, did they march with vigour.
In other words, whatever was said or happened in the toilet was so mutual that a debt was settled and hands were held.
The victim blaming and bashing could have ended there but The Market was just getting started.
This time they tried to sanitise the first statement by weeding out the offensive parts but avoided withdrawing the first statement and sincerely apologising to the woman.
But just like that, The Market thinks they have dodged the bullet so they can go back to their cooking and notorious upselling.
The Market of nonsense
You are wrong if you think The Market’s statement about the alleged rape in their toilets is just terrible public relations or some error of judgment.
The statement reflects society’s attitude towards rape victims and women in general. That much is clear in the statement’s tone.
Even someone who had drunk all the beer, ciders, cocktails, whisky, gin and brandy in The Market would not come up with such a statement. This is top-notch BS rehearsed over years and expertly mastered. The Makhadzi dance to the alleged victim’s trauma.
The one-page statement mentions the alleged victim’s name five times. Five!
It has 11 sentences and mentions the victim’s name in five of them.
You can bet your last January kobo that some dunderheads will justify naming her on the basis that she had already identified herself by posting the incident on social media. Nonsense!
To see that mentioning her name five times was not an innocent mistake you have to check how many times the statement mentions her alleged attacker‘s name. Zero!
This is despite that the alleged victim had revealed his name, or at least part of it, on social media. They call him “a staff member of one of the establishments at Maseru” and a “gentleman”.
Those with an eye for detail might have also noticed that The Market unashamedly tries to pretend to have suddenly discovered the woman’s rape allegations on her Facebook page. She reported to their staff soon after the alleged incident.
The Market’s statement mentions “toilets” as if they have many toilets.
The reality is that it’s one toilet for men and women. The main entrance is the same and so is the washing area.
Whoever designed that toilet has a brain the size of the punctuation mark at the end of this sentence.
There are no words for those who thought it fit to be used by their patrons.
Is Kabi a real lekoloane?
Is Kabi a real lekoloane? That is not a trick question so don’t bother scratching your stressed head.
Even the goats in Matatiele, where he is alleged to have been initiated, know he is not a real lekoloane.
They know what he did last December and are as disgusted as the other makoloane who rightly feel he has cheated his way to the title.
The leadership of the national initiation committee says claiming to be a lekoloane after just 72 hours at an initiation school is “unacceptable”.
Muckraker will call it fraud until Kabi proves otherwise.
It’s not as if Kabi entered the school with credits from another school. There was no transfer letter.
If there is a letter he should name his former principal.
There is no crash course in initiation school. That he qualified for mature entry doesn’t mean he could just sneak into the school hours before graduation and then claim to be a certified lekoloane.
Muckraker has visited NUL’s law school but cannot claim to be a lawyer. She has joined the wires on her phone charger but is no electrician.
The real Makoloane are furious because he has cheated his way to their title and wants to be treated as their equal. They are right. Yet what Kabi has done is more serious than stealing a title. He has corrupted the institution of initiation.
Parliament was closed, they had dismally failed to topple Uncle Sam and his party is dead. He cannot claim he was busy running the ABC because Feselady and her hubby are still in charge.
The answer is that Kabi is entitled like other politicians. He wants to have the best for his minimum effort.
Their favourite refrain is “at least….”
The second part of the answer is that Kabi, like other politicians, thought he could get away with it. It’s an attitude informed by the general contempt politicians have for those they believe are beneath them.
Now he will be remembered as a political leader who was caught, pants down, masquerading as a lekoloane. The national initiation committee has said he is not wanted near an initiation school and if he is seen in the vicinity he will be forced to repeat the course.
He is worse than those who insist on using the honorary doctorate title because, at least, that title is given voluntarily. There is nothing called an honourary lekoloane. You are either or not.
Kabi is welcome to call himself a lekoloane but he will be a lekoloane in his head and not to anyone else.
Let’s call him a kabi. And that is a real title because it is earned. Finally, oh finally, Kabi has invented something useful. Hooray!
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