Tuesday, November 23, 2010

Presidential Trip

Presidential Trip
At last I was able to appreciate One Zedia One Nation. At last I was sitting in the great aeroplane, waiting for take-off.
And at last President Nyamasoya finished saying a long farewell to all the leaders who were being left behind on the tarmac, all of them shedding genuine tears of sadness that the 747 could take only 400 free-loaders. So now the president and his party came aboard and settled down in the presidential suite upstairs. The hatch was closed and One Zedia One Nation finally began to move. A cheer arose as the mighty craft finally lifted into the air.
In One Zedia One Nation all sections of society were represented. The starving student leaders, who had always been complaining about meager meal allowances, could now feast themselves and forget about the burden of leadership. Similarly the union leaders were now comfortably cushioned from the plight of the workers. The religious leaders could forget about the troubles of their starving flock, and experience the weighty moral dilemmas of the parasitic class. The lawyers, who had railed against corrupt judges, could now begin to understand how easy it is to get corrupted. And even sour Kalaki, after a few free brandies and a plate of prawns, could begin to appreciate why One Zedia One Nation was such an enormously expensive venture.
Soon the president’s press secretary, Dickhead Jelly, came down to address us. ‘In four hours we are due to arrive in Bahrain, where the president has been invited by the Prince to discuss funding for the new mine in Mukuba. For the three days in Bahrain you will be given an allowance of ten thousand dollars to cover your per diem, food allowance, drink allowance, spending allowance, entertainment allowance, travel allowance, titillation allowance, incidental expenses, and of course any unforeseen expenses which may suddenly arise late at night. When you disembark, just collect your brown envelope from the tin trunk marked Global Fund.
A couple of hours later Dickhead appeared again. ‘Due to a navigational error our destination is now Brazil. So in four hours we shall be landing in Rio de Janeiro, where our president has been invited by President Lula da Silva to discuss the funding of the new mine in Mukuba.’
Of course this announcement put the plane into a buzz of chatter. I turned to the PS on my right. ‘This is what happens when you appoint your Ngoni nephew as the pilot.’
‘If you don’t have any constructive criticism,’ he said sternly, ‘it’s better to remain quiet.’
I turned to the Pentecostal bishop on my left. ‘What do you say about this unexpected U-turn?’
Rio should be much more fun,’ he chuckled.
And sure enough, a few hundred bottles later, we all landed in Rio. The president and his party got off first. Through the window I could see him being greeted by a long line of dignitaries, then solemnly inspecting a line of luggage trolleys. Then he squeezed his awkward bulk into a Benz, and drove off.
The next morning I went to the Ministry of Presidential Affairs and spoke to the man at the reception. ‘Excuse me,’ I said, ‘Could you tell me where I can find the meeting between President Lula and the visiting President Nyamasoya?’
‘I think sir,’ he said politely, ‘that you may be a bit out of date. Our president is now Madame Dilma Rouseff. Mr Lula da Silva retired two weeks ago.’
‘Really?’ I said, kicking myself that I had believed something that Dickhead had told me. ‘Do you happen to know his new address?’
‘He’s moved to 36 Retirement Avenue,’ he replied.
So I took a taxi, and within twenty minutes I was knocking on the door of a neat little semi-detached house in the suburbs. A nice lady in an apron opened the door. ‘Mrs da Silva?’ I asked.
‘If you want Lula,’ she replied, ‘he’s in the garden planting his potatoes.’
I walked through, into the back garden. ‘Mr da Silva?’ I said. ‘I’m Kalaki from the Zedia Watchdog.
He wiped his hand on the back of his trousers, and we shook hands. ‘How can I help you?’ he asked.
‘I’m told you invited President Nyamasoya to visit you?’
‘He also claimed that to me, and he was only two hours from landing. I had to tell him that there must be some misunderstanding, and I’m no longer president.’
‘But he seemed to be expected,’ I said. ‘When he stepped down from the plane he was greeted by a long line of dignitaries.’
‘My brother is in charge of catering at the airport, so I phoned him and asked him to quickly improvise something, Those dignitaries were just a long line of waiters and porters, who also invented the splendid ceremony of inspecting the trolleys!’
Three days later and I was back home watching the TV News, when on came Dollar Sillier. ‘Our beloved Nyamasoya,’ she announced, ‘has just returned from a very hardworking and successful trip to Brazil, where his friend Lula has pledged to invest in the new mine at Mukuba.’
‘Is that true?’ asked Sara.
‘Not entirely,’ I laughed. ‘Lula is also the nickname of Lulu Lala, the famous lap dancer at the Red Light Nightclub in downtown Rio. She’s the one who signed the agreement.’
‘Can she afford such a big investment?’
‘Oh yes,’ I laughed. ‘She’s now a very rich girl.’


  1. I enjoyed the piece immensely. It explores lots of the cancers that ail our countries, e.g. appeasement, nepotism and too much travel.

    Talking of travel, which of the two neighbouring presidents, Bingu or Lupiya, will have raked up the most miles come the end of the year?

  2. Is Bingu a grob tlota as well?

  3. No Bingu is mild trota.
    Thanks Kalaki for this wonderful piece, hilarious but full of lessons and reflections on our Zambia's goverance.

  4. ba Kalaki you are such a blessing....continue with your excellent work

  5. Mr Kalaki ur brilliant, this is immense creativity and the Govt should not 'chinga' you.

  6. this is interesting, thanx kalaki.

  7. nyamasoya is doing nothing.

  8. hahahahaha,kalaki is simply best,ahhhhh!!!! Satire at its best,thanx kalaki

  9. yayayaya,Bakalaki you never cease, to amaze me with your creativity,you such a genius.
    Keep it up.