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.
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!
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.
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.
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