‘Wananchi, the revolutionary cake has more yeast than flour. We cannot leave Uncle Sam’s bakery with an empty basket.’
‘Who are you, cloth-cap nigger?’
‘I am Tendai, the lawyer who briefed the U.S Senate on Zimbabwe’s coup lite. Since your goodwill dried up, the opposition has become a cigarette, bitten on one side, blazing on the other.
‘We are labelled sellouts for representing Zanu-PF goldfingers like Chombo, Gono and Chipanga in court and branded worse when we come here for a reset with our original paymasters.’
‘I have no idea what you are talking about.’
‘Times have been hard since Uncle Sam weaned us out of his baby sling. Can you imagine that we started as a labour movement but recently my colleague had to hand the bourgeoisie a court ruling that sent 20 thousand workers home, all for the capitalist cheque?’
‘Why are you here? The Zimbabwean delegation was airlifted home yesterday.’
‘I forgot my umbrella in the Senate Chamber after the presentation.’
‘Let me collect it for you before my head shuts down from your big words.’
‘Zikomo, forget about the umbrella. How can I meet President Trump?’
‘Does this look Gondwanaland, nigger? You request an appointment with the U.S president at least a year in advance. If you are lucky, you will get to see him before his impeachment.’
‘How about you help me register at the same golf course with him? In return, I help you beef up your vocabulary, seeing as you are the Senate doorkeeper, plagued with learned barflies on every side.’
‘I am not about speechifying. Besides, you have to be on some Forbes list to use the same golf course with President Trump.’
‘Here, get yourself a drink, Wananchi. Give me directions to Trump Tower then if the golf course is out.’
‘You can’t water an ocean, nigger. Take your bond notes back to your constituency.’
‘Ah, just the man we were talking about! Mr President, I was trying to find my way to you.’
‘Lotshe, I presume? Your reputation is great.’
‘No, I am Tendai. Flattered to meet you, sir. Can I snatch a minute from your tweeting schedule?’
‘Your cock and bull story got my enemies off their Russian conspiracy files for an hour so I can return you the favour.’
‘Croc and bull, rather, Mr President.’
‘Whatever, I propose you come to present again next week.’
‘I am flattered, sir. But we have already thrown ourselves under the bus. People are angry back in Zimbabwe. They think we are promising them castles on scorched earth. They think we are mistaking Zimbabwe for an American vassal.’
‘You just got to master the art of the deal. I envy Hilary one soundbite. She says politics is like making sausage. If you see it being made you won’t eat it. Just avoid letting your stream of consciousness loose in front of the cameras before a deal is done. Unless, of course, you have already won an election or inherited a coup lite.’
‘Can we have contact with your aides, then, provided the Democrats don’t nail you for a Zimbabwean conspiracy come next elections?’
‘Sure, we have a lot to catch up on. I could also drop by Salisbury on the way to my vacation in Nambia and have a covfefe at Sheraton. My doctor recommended that I detox from internet addiction somewhere in the backyard of civilization.’
‘I totally understand, Mr President. The problem with the internet is it makes us tourists on our own turf. It’s been difficult for MDC to determine what the popular mood is since we migrated our structures to Facebook and Twitter.’
‘What do you mean by MDC? Is it worse than ADHD?’
‘I mean the movement fighting for democracy in Zimbabwe. Your predecessors have been kind enough to bankroll and handhold us but Uncle Sam has since given us his back.’
‘There is a hell for modern gods. It has democracy, political correctness, human rights and other conspiracy theories. Let’s save the foreplay for the press conference and cut straight into the heart of the deal. Who has the oil license in Zimbabwe?’
‘We don’t have oil, Mr President, but mines and farms currently in the hands of Zanu-PF cutthroats.’
‘Perfect, your burden is to demonstrate how you are better placed to guarantee us rights compared to the current administration.’
‘But Mr President, the movement is racing against the sun. Next year we have elections and our coffers have been a breeding shade for spiders since 2013. Human rights will be inexorably undermined if the junta grabs the next term.’
‘Go toe to toe on the campaign trail and outsmart them. You are of greater service to us campaigning in Dotito and Chendambuya than in Washington.’
‘You don’t understand my people, Mr President. Zimbabweans are just children who need to be loved. If the Croc gives them enough lullabies and election candy, the opposition will be forgotten. Zimbabweans have Stockholm’s Syndrome for the murdering, raping and thieving system that has been lording it over them since Iron Age. If the junta fine-tunes the Beijing model in time for elections, that will be the last nail on the opposition coffin.’
‘What then do you want Uncle Sam to do for you while he is still in his Santa Claus robes?’
‘Starve the current government any sort of oxygen. Hang them out to dry. Don’t give them any credit or aid. When the people squeal, and fall out of the few jobs they have, our names will return to their lips.’
‘Is it your own people you are talking of or the Mexicans by some remote chance?’
‘My people, it is. I know you are friends with the Russians, Mr President. Ask Putin for some of Dostoyevsky’s books.’
‘I am not about ancient books. The only good in reading old books is that they not nearly as exasperating as the fake news but I would have gone through 150 trending tweets within the time it takes to read a book chapter. Just tell me what that Russian dude says.’
‘He says when the night deepens, the stars shine brighter. If Zimbabwe’s night doubles under a new round of restrictions, the opposition’s star will rise and outshine that of the G70 junta.’
‘Well, that’s just as stale as fake news. Since you say human rights is your forte, let me tell you what you owe your people. Wishing the junta to fail means you pitch your responsibility very low. Your job is to present your people with an offer that outtops the best Zanu-PF can deliver not to have your people starve under Zanu-PF so you can get away with delivering just a little better than nothing.’
‘Zikomo, Mr President. See you at your impeachment.’
‘Asante sana, mwana wemudhara.’
(Blackout)
Reblogged this on Brian Maregedze.