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Muckraker

The tale of a dead donkey

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ONCE again, we have pushed the frontiers of mediocrity. Not even the Covid-19 crisis gripping the world could stop Lesotho from stealing the limelight.

We have lived up to our dubious distinction. Others are battling the deadly disease that has claimed thousands of lives and sickened millions while our politicians are getting up to their usual tomfoolery. Monkey business played by adults.

It’s a monumental irony that politicians of one of the poorest nations and the least prepared for the crisis are engaged in such shameless high jinks.
As has become the norm South Africa moved swiftly to separate our brawling rascals masquerading as leaders.

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An envoy was dispatched after Uncle Tom allegedly sent soldiers into the streets.
He did so after shrieking about some people using the courts to destabilise his government. It didn’t matter that what remains of the government is a stinking carcass.

The dead are dead no matter how long you delay their burial.
He can bring all the thunder or sunshine but his government remains as dead as a dodo.
He has been hoisted by his own petard. Roasting on a pyre of his own making.
Like a pig, Uncle Tom’s government is frying in its own fat. Boom! Oh Boom. Up-side-down. The Feselady is quacking in her stilettos. The blabbermouth has been humbled.

The nurses at the State House are shivering. Their horse is tired and no amount of flogging will make it gallop. They can describe it as temporarily indisposed or recovering but it’s gone. Only brainless zealots can put their money on this one.

Ask Mapesela who has wisely dismounted. He is a happy man for that.
Kabi tried to give it a mouth-to-mouth but could not stand its stench. Had he persisted any longer he would have been reeking like a skunk.
Only the brave Chihuahua called Phori is still barking from that corner.
The rest are emaciated stray dogs rummaging an empty bin. What shall they do when their master is gone?

Please find Muckraker some buckets to trap their tears.
We will need them as evidence of what happens when you insist on bootlicking a politician way past his prime.

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South Africa had to jump because Lesotho is the festering ulcer in its belly.
The rascal child always burning his fingers.
The spoilt brat that demands cheese and ice cream in a famine. We are that one.

The one who has no shame or sense of occasion.
Yeah, the one who always lets out a thundering and stinking fart during a prayer.

The altar boy who gets drunk on altar wine.
The one who winks at the pastor’s wife and gropes choir girls.
Notice that Uncle Tom sent soldiers, not doctors or nurses to test people.
He dispatched guns instead of masks. Armoured cars instead of test kits. His people are crying for food but he gave them fear.

After a day of marathon meetings the envoy released a statement that said the politicians had agreed to stop tossing their toys out of the courts.
In other words they were agreeing to behave themselves. It was as if they have always known that they were being silly but just wanted someone from outside to remind them.

Little wonder the envoy’s statement was bereft of anything new and illuminating.
There is only so much you can say about a problem child. At some point you just have to give up and allow them to misbehave to their demise.

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There was however one paragraph that stood out in the jumbled statement.
“The coalition government of the kingdom of Lesotho commits to effecting the implementation process or modalities for the dignified, graceful and secure retirement of the Right Honourable The Prime Minister,” the statement said.

That wasn’t earthshattering but it goes right to what this fight has been about.
This brouhaha has always been about how Uncle Tom goes. He doesn’t want to leave with ghosts waiting for him at the gates. The only problem is that he wants to dictate how many ghosts should be at the door. He is fighting instead of negotiating.

He is screaming when he should speak softly. Barking instructions when begging is the right strategy. He should just raise the white flag, pack his bags and go.
Let’s unpack that nauseating bit that was sneaked into the envoy’s statement. It is clear that he requested that wording.
The idea, of course, is to get some form of assurances that he will not be haunted when he lets go of the levers of power. Forget about his demands for a “dignified” and “graceful” exit because that means nothing in politics.
All that matters is whether his exit is constitutional. The constitution says nothing about those niceties.

So those are just high sounding words being slipped into the statement to stroke Uncle Tom’s ego. In any case, he cannot be pushed out because he has already said he is going in July or earlier.

Our interest should be on the bit about him getting a “secure retirement”.
What that really means is a matter for potent wizards to decipher. It’s appallingly vague.
Muckraker however has her own explanation. This is Uncle Tom’s way of begging for mercy. He doesn’t want to be charged for his wife’s murder. He is also probably trying to get a deal for the Feselady. He is saying: Please don’t drag us to court when we are common Basotho man and woman. How the mighty have fallen.

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The hypocrisy is astounding. This is the same man who had worked overtime to impeach Justice Mosito. The same Uncle Tom is fighting tooth and nail to remove the police commissioner.

He has fired ambassadors, diplomats and principal secretaries like his herd boys. Yet he demands a dignified and graceful exit. He has the nerve to request that he be spared of any legal desserts. Mohlolo!

Nka! Ichuuuuuuuuuuu!

muckraker.post@gmail.com

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Muckraker

Jackals are hunting

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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

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Muckraker

Pressing the Knorx Stereo

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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.

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Muckraker

The mouth

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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

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