Muckraker

The art of Polistitution

Published

5 years ago

October 22, 2019

The Post

SOME years back in Mafube, Muckraker watched in disgust as some bullies insulted her friend Lineo.

It had started as harmless playground banter about her knock-on knees and missing front tooth.

Lineo had gallantly fought back, calling the boys dunderheads who could neither read nor count to twenty.But the teasing had taken a dark turn along the way to include families. Little Lineo was holding her own until one of the bullies said her mother was a prostitute.

That hit a raw nerve and tears welled her ashen cheeks, leaving little Muckraker the task of consoling her. It was a low blow delivered with vim. Muckraker felt it too for Lineo was her dear friend. In her little mind she was friends with a girl whose mother was a prostitute.

There was no iota of truth in the insult but the little rascal had said it with so much confidence that it sounded true. It was as if he had bought some pleasure from Lineo’s mother. To prove it Lineo would have had to bring her mother to the playground there and there.

At that moment, Muckraker learned that there are no rules in fights. Go mean and bold. Facts don’t matter. The truth is a luxury. The idea is just to knock out the opponent and move on. The rascal had done exactly that to Lineo and it had worked wonders.

Years later, that incident would continue to play out in Muckraker’s head. Even when she grew breasts and moved to Maseru she wondered how Lineo would have responded to win the fight.

She pondered what she would say if some moron pulled the prostitute insult from his perverted mind.
Then a few months ago, Muckraker met the boy who had knocked out Lineo.
He proudly gloated that he was now a politician in one of the congress parties.

Muckraker instantly realised that the gods had been just. They had meticulously led this man to a career as a politician, something worse than being a prostitute.

The man was being punished for calling Lineo’s mum a prostitute. As a politician he was engaged in the real art of whoring, hooking and fornicating.
It was not his brothers, sisters, or uncles engaged in harlotry but himself. So the gods had equalized on Lineo’s behalf. Here he was: a bearded harlot. Indeed, there is no doubt that our politicians are the real whores.

The evidence is overflowing in parliament and political parties.
Forget their screams about principles. Heed not their calls for integrity.
Ask them why they have jumped into bed with people they despise and they will tell you that there are no permanent friends but permanent interests in politics.

They say that to insulate their conscience from the plight of having to change like the weather and kiss their nemeses. It allows them to partake in political adultery without worrying about accusations of hypocrisy and duplicity.

At least prostitutes do not believe that they are doing a noble job. They don’t claim to be trying to save the world. They have never pretended that they are the people’s servants. They know that they are doing a wretched job.
The same cannot be said for politicians.

Muckraker thought of Lineo when she heard that Motlohi Maliehe was back in the cabinet. It is an astounding about-turn. A stunning act of political adultery.

Many will recall how Maliehe huffed and puffed as he spewed bile on Uncle Tom and the Feselady. He said the Feselady had shoved Uncle Tom in her zipped pocket.

He accused the Feselady of corruption, instigating divisions in the ABC and poking her fingers in the government affairs. When Uncle Tom yanked him out of cabinet he lashed out.

“When I spoke about his wife he told the media that I had already fired myself. I knew I was on my way out,” he said as he licked his wounds.
He had talked his way to unemployment.

“But even before that, he was no longer talking to me. And when I called he would not answer and when I sent messages he would not respond.”
“They would have party meetings without me even though I am the chairman. I am a minister but they would have cabinet meetings, especially at the State House, without my knowledge.”

When asked if he regrets the actions of his mouth, Maliehe put on a brave face. “I have no regrets whatsoever. I would say the same thing and I will say it again if the circumstances dictate,” he said.

He was fooling no one because even goats in Butha-Buthe could feel the pain in his voice. As he drove back home from Maseru the pigs were rolling with laughter.
A few months later, Maliehe is back in cabinet but nothing much has changed. The Feselady is still around. Uncle Tom is still in charge and happily married to his sweetheart.

Corruption is laying eggs in government corridors and tenders are still being rigged with zest. The ABC is still split because of the same things he was moaning about some months ago.

Government projects that he said were stalled because of Uncle Tom’s mismanagement remain in limbo. The only thing that has changed is that Maliehe is no longer one of the hundreds of thousands who are unemployed.
A few months ago, he was fuming about Uncle Tom but now he is taking instructions from the same man. Henceforth he will have to defend Uncle Tom’s policies and actions.

He will have to instantly forget his insults against the Feselady.
You have to marvel at such duplicity. Muckraker knows that Maliehe is likely to privately whisper that it is Uncle Tom who begged him to come back. But he can only tell that to the naïve.

And even if Uncle Tom called him first it is clear that he didn’t need much persuasion. For months he has had his fingers crossed, hoping Uncle Tom would call.

It’s possible that he consulted prophets and sangomas to get him back in Uncle Tom’s good graces. There those too clever by half chaps claim that Uncle Tom reached out to Maliehe because he is under pressure from Mahao and his camp. They may be right, but Muckraker thinks Uncle Tom doesn’t need Maliehe to survive.

It’s not as if Maliehe has truckloads of supporters. There is no evidence that Maliehe has any special talents and skills. What is clear is that the whoring continues. Maliehe can take comfort in the fact that he is not alone. He is neither the first nor the last.

Muckraker

Jackals are hunting

Published

5 days ago

January 13, 2025

The Post

Cheeseman’s recording of the conversation might border on the criminal but that doesn’t matter to those who have been looking for a stick to spank Molelle.

They have been waiting for this moment and are seizing it with both hands.

You can hear the excitement in their voices as they discuss Molelle’s impending downfall. Knorx’s misery has triggered a collective orgasm.

Watch them now as they hunt in packs like jackals.

Even those who sang Molelle’s praises a few weeks ago are queuing to lynch him.

We are masters at kicking those who have fallen from grace.

The Law Society of Lesotho has been startled from years of slumber to race out of its bed with a long sjambok in hand.

They have written a letter to Uncle Sam pretending to have discovered, through a “whistleblower”, that Molelle was appointed the DCEO boss without being admitted as a legal practitioner in Lesotho.

It’s unclear why they needed a ‘whistleblower’ to discover something in their records for years. Muckraker suspects they always knew but were either too timid to say or waiting for this moment.

They are saying it now to give the impression that they sneaked in a kick when Molelle was being spanked out of office. It’s a desperate scramble for relevance.

By claiming that they didn’t know Molelle was appointed the DG without being admitted as a legal practitioner the law society is exposing itself as a proudly incompetent organisation.

That much is clear from their brazen admission that they needed a ‘whistleblower’ to whisper to them something on their notice board or drawer.

Muckraker is amused by the battalion pretending to be irritated by what Molelle’s mouth said about Bro Richard, Sister Majara and Uncle Sam. They are borrowing offence as if it’s them who were labelled idiots or satane.

Bro Richard, Sister Majara and Uncle Sam are capable of getting irritated on their own without prodding and instigation from self-hired mourners, chancers and bootlickers.

Molelle himself knows what is supposed to happen in the next few days.

He can only extricate himself from this mess by proving that the audio clips were manufactured and his voice is either AI-generated or from someone who can expertly imitate him.

Nka! Ichuuuuuuuuuuu!

muckraker.post@gmail.com

Muckraker

Pressing the Knorx Stereo

Published

5 days ago

January 13, 2025

The Post

As she listened to Mollele’s audio clips Muckraker could hear a man devoted to waffling his way to an abrupt end to his tenure as the DCEO boss.

Cheeseman only had to keep poking him with cunning instigations. It was as if Cheeseman knew which buttons to press for Knorx’s stereo to keep playing his songs. And he wasn’t using a remote control. He was right there pressing the brown Tempest. Muckraker is unsure if Cheeseman danced to the Knorx hits but is certain he enjoyed himself.

Press: “Satane”. Press: “Idiots”. Press: “This case”.

Press: “Oh, yes that case”. Press: “The DPP this and that”. Press: “Blah, blah, blah and blah”.

Cheeseman was playing Knorx like DJ Boots on the decks.

At some point you hear that Cheeseman was no longer playing his favourite hits but requests from people who had given him a list of songs before he met Knorx.

Cheeseman’s motive for recording their conversation doesn’t matter now.

It matters now who got the audio clips, snitched and leaked. It all boils down to what he said and to whom he said it.

Molelle would still have been in trouble even if he had been heard saying those words while in his shower. He put himself in that position by allowing his mouth to go wild.

He should have kept those thoughts locked in his mind until uttering them had no consequences for him. They are words you only mention as history: “Eish, I used to work with devils and idiots”.

Muckraker is not saying he should have never said those words now. Of course, he could have driven out of Maseru to find a mountain to tell those things.

If a molisana had secretly recorded his chat with the mountain, Knorx would have said what he tells his ancestors is his business. He could have also claimed he would have gone bonkers if he had not told someone or something about his bosses.

Many have a boss they believe to be a moron or evil. Yet they keep their mouth shut about such truths to keep the job and the peace. The smart ones know it is their job to cover up the idiocy of their bosses.

That is how they earn their keep and promotions. Otherwise, what is the point of an idiot boss keeping a smart employee who doesn’t know how to protect them from their idiocy?

It is your job to protect your boss from his idiocy. And you have no business discussing your boss’ idiocy, especially with his enemies. Venture into such reckless discussions and you will be jobless with your smartness.

Muckraker

The mouth

Published

5 days ago

January 13, 2025

The Post

WE start the year with a little story of the dangers of a reckless mouth. Muckraker will write it as if you are listening to your granny’s tsomo. The point of it all will be revealed before the kettle boils.

So here goes.

Some two centuries ago, Czar Nicholas I, the ruler of Russia, faced a rebellion from some renegades who demanded democracy and other things. Qoi!

The Czar reacted with a brutal crackdown that included the chopping of heads.

Kondraty Ryleyev, one of the rebels, was caught and sentenced to death by hanging. On the day of his hanging, the trapdoor opened but the rope around Ryleyev’s neck broke.

In those days, a rope breaking during an execution was considered a miracle which compelled the authorities to pardon the convict and spare the convict’s life.

With rope broken Ryleyev, thinking he had been saved, stood up, looked at the crowd that had gathered to witness his execution and shouted: “You see, in Russia they don’t know how to do anything properly, even to make rope”. A messenger was sent to the Palace for the Czar to sign Ryleyev’s pardon.

The disappointed Czar was about to sign the pardon when he asked the messenger: “Did Ryleyev say anything about this miracle?”

“Sir, he said that in Russia they don’t even know how to make rope,” the messenger replied.

“In that case let us prove the contrary,” said the Czar as he tore up the pardon.

Ryleyev was hanged the next day and the rope held tight until he kicked the bucket.

Muckraker read that story from Robert Greene’s 48 Laws of Power. The anecdote accompanies Law 4: “Always say less than necessary”.

Ryleyev would have lived to see another day if only he kept his tongue on a short leash.

Did Muckraker hear you say qoi?

The story is not about what happened to a reckless mouth in Russia two centuries ago but what is happening to Knorx Molelle because of his mouth.

Muckraker’s grandfather used to say the three things that get a man in trouble are the mouth, the hands and the ‘member’. The hand does things to things and people. The mouth says things. And the ‘member’…we all know the David story. Molelle is a victim of his mouth.

Nka! Ichuuuuuuuuuuu!

muckraker.post@gmail.com