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The stinking Bidvest deal



GOVERNMENTS have a way of parading their madness in the most spectacular fashion. That the politicians that man governments right across the world are a demented lot has never been in dispute.

History settled that by providing ample evidence: from the wars they started to some of their inane decisions that have put the world in trouble.
There are times when you wonder whether politicians have had a collective surgery to replace their brains with manure. At times it looks like they are going out of their way to bungle things.

Every day they show a fanatical commitment to pushing the frontiers of crass idiocy.
No specie is as stubborn as a politician when it comes to plodding ahead in full speed towards self-destruction. They have a special way of mutilating themselves.
In this melee all we have to do is to stand by and watch as they gallop to the cliff. To try to stop them is an exercise in futility. You will probably sweat buckets and get nasty bruises but work done will remain zero.

Just watch the spectacle.
It is also advisable not to spur them on because they might just think they are being funny. Nothing is as dangerous as an idiot who thinks he is being humorous.
It is well known that if you ululate for a mad man at a funeral you must brace yourself for the time when you will have to stop him from molesting the corpse.
The established wisdom is that mad people must be left to their own devices. They live in their own world, one far removed from reality.
They come back to their senses at their own pace and time.

The government had such a Damascene moment this week when it accepted that it was wrong to sign the Bidvest deal in the first place.
The coalition government says it is now cancelling the scandalous deal with Bidvest. At what point they realised they were swimming in a septic tank full of maggots, we may never know.

It is however as clear as a pig’s behind that reality has dragged them by ears and eyelids back to their senses. Down, down, down, they have climbed from their high horses. Oops, I lie.
They are not climbing: they have fallen with a thud. Boom, boom and boom! That is the sound of ministers falling with a thud.
And that must be a painful landing for bums accustomed to be chauffeur-driven in those Mercedes Benz and Toyota Prados.
Finance Minister Tlohang Sekhamane was handed the task of announcing the death of the Bidvest deal and he did a decent job of it.
He said the deal was too expensive for government and country. Now the government wants to hire vehicles from Basotho, he said.
This was fine, except that he sounded as if the cancellation was an achievement of sorts for the government.
The people condemned the Bidvest deal when it was still a mere idea. From the onset they called the deal what it is: a stinking skunk.
Since then they have watched in dismay as the government held on to this diseased baby. Politicians in government have kissed and cuddled it for months as the people fumed at their lack of decency.
Sister Khaketla adamantly refused to accept culpability for the mess. When Thuso Litjobo called her a thief of money she screamed for an apology and when her demands were rebuffed she sprinted to High Court, tears welling her cheeks.
She was obviously wasting her tears on the wrong issue: more like a spoilt brat moping over a missing toy when the house is burning.
Instead, she should have been wailing over the national coffers she had been emptying to fund that Bidvest deal.
As Sekhamane spoke at the press conference you could see a tired man. It was clear that raising millions every month to feed Bidvest had taken its toll on him.
Here was a man who had come face to face with the real money-munching machine called Bidvest. It kept wanting more and more like a machonisa.
Khaketla had left a live ‘snake’ in the finance minister’s office and Sekhamane was running for his dear life.
The fatigue he showed at the press conference can therefore be easily explained. Here was a man who had been running since he came into office.
Here was a man who had been forced to resort to robbing other departments to pay Bidvest. Here was a man who was having nightmares over the Bidvest deal. He was squirming. At least he can now get some rest.

So why did it take the government more than a year to cancel this horrible deal. Well, the simple answer is that they are politicians.
Yet that will not aptly answer that question. The real answer is more complicated. Muckraker suspects that after admitting the deal was a mistake some people kept it alive to buy enough time to line their pockets.

Since it was laden with sleaze all they had to do was to keep it breathing until they have loaded their pocket to the brim.
The other explanation, equally compelling since its coming from Muckraker, is that it is the Bidvest people who pulled the plug for strategic reasons. The reputational damage to Bidvest had been immense. It is seen as a beneficiary of a corrupt act.

It could also be that Bidvest knew no government that will come into power after June 3, even this one if it comes back, would sustain this deal in its evil state.
In any case, with the government coffers under lock and key due to lack of budget there was a possibility that Bidvest would not be paid for the next three months.
And there was no guarantee that whoever was going to come into government would pay the outstanding debt. If you are naïve you could say the government cancelled the deal because it had suddenly come back to its senses.

The truth though is that this sounds like an election campaign strategy. Pull the plug on a crazy deal and get Basotho to provide cars.
That way they will think the government is empowering them. And if a new government tries to undo the arrangement it will face the wrath of the people.

Health Minister ‘Molotsi Monyamane must be ruing the day he opened his mouth to speak about the rubella vaccination debacle.
He is reported as having said those pictures of sick kids showing bad reactions to the vaccine were either manipulated or of children from somewhere north of us.
For that he was justifiably bludgeoned in the public court. As he later admitted, that sounded as insensitive and callous. Muckraker will not add to his misery. He is already flying in his own fat.

What Muckraker will not accept is the silly notion that there was a deliberate plan to poison Basotho children.
You have to be the king of morons to accept that a whole ministry would do that. There are buffoons on Facebook trying to peddle this nonsense with gusto.
Some lawyers are getting up to ambulance chasing antics to make some coins from these unfortunate incidents.

Yet anyone with even a cursory flirtation with Form Two science knows that reactions to vaccine are as common as corruption in this country.
You don’t need to have seen the door to a school to know that people react differently to medicines. Even sangomas will tell you the same.

The point here is that the ignoramuses spreading alarm and despondency because they have access to smart phones and cheap data should just zip it.
Cheap data is in the hands of rumour mongers and charlatans who speak before they think.
Where others are using social media to market their products they are busy advertising their idiocy. Rascals!

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Machonisa on fire



It was only a matter of time before the so-called socialist party owned by a machonisa started unravelling. Now the capitalist owner of the Socialist Revolutionaries is lashing out at anyone who dares to tell him to behave himself.

Teboho Mojapela is moving around his party’s structures with a phafa, leaving his victims scratching their bums.

Muckraker has no sympathy for his victims. They deserve what they are getting.

Having deluded themselves to think that they are stockholders in the SR, they should now enjoy their harvest of thorns. They were guests at Mojapela’s house but tried to tell him how to arrange his furniture and what to eat.

He is telling them to go find somewhere to play because the SR is his personal property.

That the SR is in Mojapela’s armpits has always been clear. He formed and funded it.

It’s just that some were too naïve to realise the obvious.

Thabo Shao packed his bags and left after Mojapela whipped him out of his house. He now mumbles something about Mr Machonisa being a dictator. He says that as if it’s a discovery to be shared with the rest of the world.

Yet anyone with something between their ears would have known that a machonisa who brags about beating his naughty workers could not possibly be a democratic leader.

Only Shao and a few dimwits didn’t know that.

Anyway, Shao’s exit will not change much because he just doesn’t matter. He is a political nonentity who overrates himself.

What interests Muckraker is Mr Machonisa’s nerve to call Shao an uneducated rascal. That hurts because it’s an insult coming from someone who has made it a mission to give education a bad name. Mr Machonisa’s definition of someone educated is Tlohelang Aumane. Hear, hear, and hear. Phew!

Does anyone remember Aumane saying anything either educated or educative?

Muckraker only knows him as a political jezebel incapable of staying in one political bed for more than 15 minutes. He is always itching to be married to the next political party.

Muckraker is tempted to say Aumane is politically horny but she won’t say it for fear of offending the oversensitive souls. The kind that claims to have almost suffocated to death after someone farted in a hall.

But Mr Machonisa doesn’t care about Aumane’s habits because he thinks he is renting a brilliant political mind. A few things will happen in that union.

Mr Machonisa will soon realise that Aumane is just an empty-headed political slay queen always looking for the next partner to get him Ice Tropez (May lightning strike whoever drinks that but cannot afford it. Fire!)

Aumane will realise that Mr Machonisa is a moneyed but unrefined village bumpkin whose mouth has a terrible habit of rebelling against his brain.

Mr Machonisa will find the next brain to rent while Aumane will be putting on his stilettos to find another political lover to smooch on the Maseru streets.

Nka! Ichuuuuuuuuuuu!

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The queen Mampara



Muckraker once promised to say nothing about the Feselady but that Mampara’s mouth keeps running as if it’s connected to Muela Hydro Power Station.

The Feselady told some ABC members who visited her home that she will not associate with the party until it distances itself from the remark of suspended spokesman Montoeli Masoetsa. What made her relapse to her Drama Queen ways was Masoetsa’s attack on her and her hubby. He said the ABC lost because of Uncle Tom and Feselady.

That simple truth, known to even donkeys in Qaqatu, pierced her cheeky heart and got her tummy roiling. She now says she will never wear the ABC’s regalia until the party apologises. Don’t laugh. If this was a threat, the Feselady has lost her touch.

She used to beat people for merely looking at her in a funny way or calling her hubby.

She would harass government officials in public. Now she has been reduced to threatening to avoid yellow dresses and T-shirts to fix the ABC. Boom! Boom! The mighty Drama Queen has fallen.

What remains is just the fading memories of power sexually transmitted.

The transmitter of that power has long ceased to function literally and figuratively.

But the Feselady is too engrossed with herself to realise that she has neither the power nor the capacity to make threats to anyone. She rules only her home, yard and a few idiots still clinging to her.

It takes some sophistication to read irony and the Feselady doesn’t have even a pinch of it. Her people in Mokhotlong rejected her when she tried to sneak into parliament via that hollow popularity garnered through matrimony.

ABC supporters think she is just an uncultured blabbermouth. That she thinks anyone would lose sleep over her threats to burn the party’s regalia or turn them into fatukus is comical. Her tantrums will not change a thing. Her boycott might be the best thing to happen to the party since the October 7 defeat.

Why would the few remaining ABC supporters worry about a garrulous charlatan boycotting their party?

The last time she was wearing the ABC like a wig, it lost more than 200 000 voters, flew to the opposition benches and became a smallanyana party. Nothing hurts more than that. So bring it on mummy!

Nka! Ichuuuuuuuuuuu!

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The RFP’s thokolosi



The RFP leaders should fire whoever is advising them on how to deal with constituencies demanding a conference to elect a new executive committee. Their response to those demands has been a comedy of errors.
It’s been nothing short of kindergarten blunders unbefitting of people who sold themselves as the smart ones to lead the country out of darkness.
The secretary general told those bellowing for a conference to take a chill pill and wait for Uncle Sammy to give directions.
Uncle Sammy said those people or their kind are divisive, dragging the party off its agenda and incapable of understanding his dream for the country.
Other leaders have said those clamouring for a conference can go plead their case to a mountain because the current national executive committee will run the party for another six pregnancies.
Never mind the words they use, the leaders are telling the members that they will not be told how to manage a party they started. This is to say the leaders will not be taking instructions from the riffraff. Yes, I said it! Those rubbed the wrong way can curse.
Someone should round up the RFP’s executive committee members, lock them up in a room, throw away the keys and spank them until they understand politics.
They are clearly struggling to make a distinction between a political party and private companies. You would think this is common sense but the human mind is always slow to banish habits.
The RFP leaders were used to being business owners, not political leaders. That is why they cannot understand why anyone who wasn’t there when they started the party can tell them how to manage it.
But make no mistake, reality will grab them by the noses and eyelids back to their senses. They will be taught three simple lessons. The first is that political parties are voluntary entities in which power lies with the members.
The second is that party members are not employees you can just instruct to jump around because you pay their wages.
The third, which is more important, is that the only time a political party is a personal property is when it’s an idea in the founder’s head. Once registered and people join, the members own the party together with its structures, leaders and vision.
The other problem with the RFP’s responses to the demands for an elective conference is that they keep pretending that those three constituencies are just rogues out to sabotage the party. Nothing can be further from the truth.
Those constituencies are small thokolosis of someone right there in the party’s echelons. They represent a growing faction in the party. That faction that is a thokolosi was birthed when the party was still a spirit. It was nurtured when the party was registered and continued to grow during the campaign.
By the time the RFP became government, it was a full-blown thokolosi vigorously doing bedroom things to produce more thokolosis. Now it is granddaddy thokolosi living in the RFP’s armpits.
There is a simple way to find the thokolosi’s owner.
Just round them up and beat them until their parents start wailing. If the parents don’t come out the thokolosis will run to them for protection.

Nka! Ichuuuuuuuuuuu!

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