The Legacy of King Cobra

The Legacy of King Cobra

            It was the cool of the evening in Mfuwe, and all the animals were gathered around the watering hole for their usual discussion of the affairs of state. ‘I wonder,’ said the Wise Elephant, ‘why we have never appointed a king?’

          ‘You only wonder that,’ growled Mighty Lion, ‘because you would like to be king yourself.’

          The Elegant Giraffe looked down serenely upon this little discussion. ‘We already have the Brutal Buffaloes for war, Educated Elephants as our judges and the Honorable Hippopotamuses to make our laws. So what would we do with a king?’

          ‘We have nobody to represent us,’ said the Wise Elephant. ‘When important visitors arrive from abroad there is nobody to greet them and introduce them to our hiccupping hippos and lovable lions, or to show them the biggest baobab tree in the world. Other countries have kings, why can’t we?’

          ‘The problem with having a king,’ said Lion, ‘is that he’ll soon become pompous. Instead of just showing visitors around, and taking the lead in singing the Song of Mfuwe, he’ll think he’s in charge of everything and start bossing us around.’

          ‘Quite right,’ said the Bold Baboon. ‘Look at Wise Elephant here, he’s already stronger than everybody else, and thinks he knows everything. Just think what a nuisance he might become if we made him king!’

          After that remark, everybody sat quiet, not wanting to annoy Wise Elephant. Finally Klever Kalulu perked up. ‘What we need,’ he said ‘is a democratic king. Not some big fellow with his own ideas. Just an ordinary little fellow with no ideas. Then we can fill his head with our ideas. Not proud of himself but proud of Mfuwe. An empty little vessel into which we can put the constitution, so that he can understand the job of being a king. Starting from nothing, he can then fill himself with wisdom and grow to be a good king.’

          ‘Are you proposing yourself?’ sneered Mighty Lion.

          ‘Certainly not,’ kackled Klever Kalulu. ‘I was thinking of Common Cobra. He’s a real commoner, an inhabitant of the grass roots who knows all the animals of the forest. No education or ideas. He should be our ideal candidate. Our sole candidate!’

          And so it was that the Common Cobra became King Cobra.

          But things did not go well. The very things that Mighty Lion had warned against soon came to pass. The king recruited all the hyenas as his Police Force, now known as the Dreaded PF, which began to terrorise all the other animals. Any animal that had once laughed at King Cobra when he was just a Common Cobra were now declared his enemies, arrested by the Dreaded PF and brought to court. The king fired Wise Elephant as the Chief Judge, and replaced him with the ancient Cranky Crocodile, who did whatever she was told, provided she was allowed to eat the enemies of the king.

          And the animals soon found that it was impossible for the animals to instruct King Cobra on the constitution. He built himself a new palace called Snake House and never came out, never listened to advice and never talked to the other animals - except to give instructions to the Dreaded PF hyenas.

          He made the baboons construct a huge tower in the grounds of Snake House, and each morning he would climb to the top, declaring that he was getting instructions from God and that he was governing the country according to the Ten Commandments. And the animals whispered one to another that he was supposed to be listening to the people and following the constitution. But nobody dared to speak out for fear of the PF hyenas and the ancient Cranky Crocodile that lurked around the courtroom.

          Things got even worse when he ordered the animals to collect all the fruit from the forest for export to Ching-Chang. The animals also had to construct the roads needed to export the fruit to Ching-Chang. The animals were now exhausted and near starvation. The king was selling the fruit to build a gold statue of himself, ten metres tall, where the animals could all be ordered to march up and down and salute the Great King Cobra. ‘These great roads, and this great statue,’ declared the king, ‘will be the enduring legacy of the Great King Cobra!’

          By now the animals were in a state of silent and sullen rebellion. But they could no longer meet around the watering hole to discuss the constitutional crisis. The king had declared that any meeting first needed permission from the Dreaded PF hyenas, which was much the same thing as asking for a cuddle with the Cranky Crocodile.

          Then one little elephant called Mumbo Jumbo did a very brave thing for such a small fellow. He called a secret meeting in the Dark Corner of the forest. And there it was that these treacherous and treasonable animals came up with a plan to overthrow their king. They agreed that on the Great Day of the Unveiling of the Statue of the Golden King, the baboons would run up and tie a rope around the statue’s neck, and then all the elephants would pull the statue down.

          Which they did. And the strange thing was that the statue came down very easily, and the hyenas all ran away. And another strange thing was that the statue was hollow. Even the head was completely empty. There was nothing inside the statue except some smoldering ashes at the bottom. The Wise Elephant put his head inside the statue to have a look. ‘These ashes,’ he said solemnly, ‘are all that remain of our constitution.’

          And from that day to this, in the land of Mfuwe, everybody is afraid of snakes.             That is the legacy of King Cobra.

Drunk with Power

Drunk with Power

           

            ‘All was not well in the Kingdom of Mfuwe. The Great Elephant King Cycle Mata had become too powerful, and his elephant ministers were trampling on the other animals...’

          ‘Grandpa’ Nawiti interrupted, ‘Why was he called Cycle Mata?’

          ‘Nobody’s quite sure,’ I said. ‘But some people say it was because he was always running round and round in circles and never getting anywhere. In those days elephants often ran round in circles after eating too much marula, the favourite fruit of the elephant. It was marula that gave elephants their great size and power.’

          ‘Mummy says that money is power.’

          ‘But in those days in Mfuwe, marula was power. You see, the elephants had enormous bellies and could eat huge quantities of marula. This was what enabled the elephants to become so big and strong, and to rule over all the other animals.’

          ‘So what was the problem?’

          ‘The problem was that the elephants became greedy for more power, and began to eat too much marula, and became drunk with power. You see, if an elephant eats too much marula, the juice ferments in its belly and turns into alcohol, and the elephant becomes drunk. Of course nobody knew about alcohol in those days, they just thought that the elephant had eaten too much and was suffering from indigestion.’

          ‘So the elephants couldn’t run the country properly?’

          ‘They were always blundering around, not knowing what they were doing, trampling on other animals and knocking over trees. And then things got worse.’

          ‘What happened?

          ‘The Great King Elephant Cycle Mata fell over sideways and couldn’t get up. He was very sick.’

          ‘What was wrong with him? Too much marula?’

          ‘Everybody thought it must be his allergy. He had always been very allergic to corruption.’

          ‘What is corruption, Grandpa?’

          ‘Corruption is when the ruling elephants, who are supposed to ensure that all animals get their fair share of marula, instead eat it all themselves and leave the other animals to starve.’

          ‘So who was in charge while the king was sick?’

          ‘That was the problem. His ministers had always taken instructions from the king, none of them has any brains of their own. That was why he had chosen them. In addition, of course, they were drunk all the time, and the country was falling into ruin and the other animals were starving.’

          ‘Couldn’t they do anything at all? Like stop stealing the marula?’

          ‘All they could do was quarrel amongst themselves about who should take over from the king. The Minister for the Indefensible, The Great Belly of Marula, or GBM as was he was known, declared that the king would live forever, meaning of course that he himself would take over. But the little elephant Splinter Kapimbe, who had a small belly but a big head swollen with marula, declared that GBM had raised the matter too soon and he would be disciplined. This meant of course that Spinter was the one in charge and he would soon take over. Then GBM rented a pack of hyena to change the minds of Splinter and his supporters.

          ‘The country was going to the dogs,’ said Nawiti sadly.

          ‘Not only that,’ I said. ‘An angry rhinoceros called HaHa started to laugh and sneer, shouting that These elephants have stolen all your fruit, they are corrupt. You think they are building you roads, but these roads are just to take all the marula from the trees to the palace and leave you with none. The previous king used to give you a subsidy of dried marula during the dry season to keep you alive, but they have removed the subsidy and left you to starve. Why does the king have a hundred ministers, all chewing our marula? Appoint me as king and I shall manage the entire kingdom properly, just as I manage my beautiful impala farm in the Zambezi Valley.’

          ‘So what happened next?’

          ‘The king’s wife, the Great She-Elephant, came back from India with a doctor, who took one look at the king and declared that the king’s belly was full of overly fermented marula. The alcohol had turned to acid which was beginning to eat the king. So he made a hole in the king’s belly, let out the acid, and the king leapt back to life and started castigating everybody:

          ‘You fools!’ he shouted at his ministers. ‘You can’t even answer HaHa! While I was sick you couldn’t even say Booo!’

          ‘He had forgotten,’ said Nawiti, ‘that he had been too sick to give them instructions.’

          ‘Exactly,’ I said. ‘He had forgotten that he had deliberately chosen ministers who were incapable of arguing with the king, and therefore equally incapable of arguing with anybody else. And he’d also forgotten that they were so drunk with power that they were too arrogant to even answer simple questions.’

          ‘And what did he do with the two elephants who had been fighting over his crown?’

          ‘He declared that anyone challenging him should not hide their intentions, but should nominate themselves as candidates.’

          ‘And did they?’

          ‘Unfortunately, while paddling their canoes to the nomination centre, they were both eaten by crocodiles.’

          ‘Wow,’ said Nawiti, ‘it must have taken a lot of crocodiles.’

          ‘Yes,’ I said. ‘The crocodiles were very well organized.’

          ‘So did HaHa become the new king?’

          ‘Yes,’ I said. ‘All the animals went to him and pleaded with him to take over. He said he was a good businessman, and would soon sort everything out.’

          ‘And did he?’

          ‘Oh yes,’ I said. ‘He abolished the monarchy and introduced free enterprise.’

          ‘Meaning what?’ asked Nawiti doubtfully.

          ‘He sold the whole country to the Americans, as a game park.’

Blinker Kapimbe

Blinker Kapimbe

            ‘Come in, come in, Kalaki,’ said the Honorable Blinker Kapimbe, pointing to the chair in front of his desk. ‘Just tell me what’s worrying you, I can explain everything.’

          ‘To start with,’ I said, ‘I see that the notice on your door says Minister of Injustice rather than Minister of Justice.’

          ‘That a legacy from the previous MMD minister,’ he explained. ‘Terrible fellow! Mad as a hatter! I’ve been so busy bringing justice to the entire country that I quite forgot about my own door. But if you’re just doing a national door inspection, perhaps you’d like to move on to the next door and leave me to do my work.’

          ‘There’s just one question I wanted to ask,’ I said. ‘I’ve been wondering about your strategy of increasing your parliamentary majority by giving ministerial jobs to opposition MPs, and causing by-elections.’

          ‘Then you can stop wondering,’ said Blinker. ‘We are building an all inclusive government for national development.’

          ‘Half a minute,’ I said. ‘You invited the notorious Violence Kaponya to be a minister, and now he’s standing for your Paya Farmer party in the Katali by-election. Do you really want Violence in your party?’

          ‘He sat back in his chair, leaning his head towards the rows of law books on the shelves behind him. They looked all very new, as if they’d never been touched. ‘What’s your point?’ he sneered. ‘We got him from the Multi-Murder Disaster party. They’re all violent!’

          ‘My point is,’ I said, ‘the Paya Farmer party is supposed to be opposed to Violence, but now you’ve invited him in.’

          ‘How little you understand politics, Kalaki,’ he laughed. ‘When we were in opposition we were accused of being violent, just as you now accuse the Honorable Kaponya of being violent. This is the nature of politics. Just as politics is partisan, so political violence is also partisan. Violence Kaponya was only violent because he was in the opposition. You’re entirely correct that we are against Violence in the opposition, and that is precisely why we invited him to join the government in order to make Violence legitimate.’

          ‘Violence is legitimate in government?’

          ‘Don’t you understand anything, Kalaki? The police and army use violence to maintain law and order. It is legitimate violence. It is the firm smack of authority. Therefore, once you’re in government, violence becomes legitimate force.’

          ‘I’m so pleased,’ I said, ‘that you have this marvelous project of turning the notorious Violence Kaponya into a useful citizen. But can he really win on the PF ticket? You see, since the voters previously elected him as their MMD candidate, now they see him as a traitor who has deserted them because of being bribed. So how can they be expected to vote for him? They won’t! They despise him!’

          ‘We shall make clear to them that if they don’t vote for him then they will get no development, no farmers’ inputs, no relief food. They will starve to death!’

          ‘But doesn’t the government have a responsibility to look after its people?’

          ‘Of course, but only if the people also show responsibility by voting for the government of the day. Otherwise we shall have no option except to treat them as enemies of the state.’

          ‘But then people might vote for the opposition in the hope of better treatment!’

          ‘Ha ha,’ cackled Kapimbe, ‘That won’t work! Any time any of them wins, we shall appeal and the result will be annulled because of corruption!’

          ‘But even PF candidates can have also their seats annulled because of corruption!’

          ‘Oh no they can’t!’ he shouted. ‘I’ve got that one worked out! We’re the ruling party! If the opposition gives gifts it’s automatically corruption! But the government doesn’t give gifts, it gives legitimate benefits such as food relief, new schools and roads. We provide government services! That’s not corrupton! It’s the benefit of incumbency! It’s legal!’

          ‘Is that what the law says?’

          ‘That’s why we need to control the judiciary! What do you think my job is? I just write the judgment and give it to the judge! The judge gives it to the Electoral Commission! The Commission gives it to the opposition candidates! All suspended! Ah haaah!’ he screamed suddenly like a madman. ‘We must have sanity!’

          ‘Will the judges agree?’

          ‘We’ve given them most agreeable contracts! And they’re all old and senile and know they’d be unemployable anywhere else! They understand that violence comes from the opposition, and that we in government use legitimate force. They understand that corruption comes from the opposition, and we distribute legitimate benefits.’

          ‘But aren’t you the very one who accused the previous government of corruption?’

          ‘Yes, but we shall soon be eliminating any chance of any such charges against us!’

          ‘How will you do that?’ I wondered.

          ‘Ha ha!’ he squealed like a demented rat. ‘We shall be changing the constitution to eliminate the possibility!’

          ‘But how will you do that?’

          ‘Kalaki, can’t you understand anything? We are buying, er, I mean looking for opposition MPs to work with us to unify the nation, so that we can change the constitution.’ He stood to attention and saluted the little flag sitting on his bookshelf. ‘After that there will be only one party! One nation! One fatherland! One people! One blood! One destiny! One leader! Ha ha!’ he squealed, ‘We have worked it all out!’

          ‘We?’ I wondered. ‘Who is we?’

          ‘Me!’ he screamed. ‘I am the new leader!’

          Whereupon he started marching up and down his office, saluting the flag, with feet kicking high in an energetic goose-step. He was now in a mindless nationalistic frenzy.

          I crept out of the office, closing the door quietly behind me. ‘Jesus Christ Almighty,’ I muttered to myself, ‘I’d rather have GBM.’

PF Snake

The PF Snake

            ‘How was school today?’ I asked Nawiti.

          ‘Awful,’ she said, with a little sob. ‘I cried and cried.’

          ‘Oh dear,’ I said, putting my arm around her. ‘What happened.’

          ‘It was in the playground during morning break,’ she sniffed, ‘when suddenly one of the boys shouted SNAKE! and then all the boys picked up sticks and stones and beat a little snake to death. It was terrible! Why did they do it Grandpa?’

          ‘What do you think?’

          ‘I think they did it because they are nasty little creatures!’

          ‘What, snakes?’

          ‘No, the boys! Why are boys such nasty little creatures, Grandpa?’

          ‘It’s not the boys’ fault,’ I said. ‘It’s because they’re scared of snakes.’

          ‘But why are they so scared?’

          ‘It wasn’t always so,’ I admitted. ‘There was a time when we used to live in harmony with the animals of the forest. That’s how it was a hundred years ago in the little village of Zed. Some of the animals from the forest even used to come and live in the village. The wild dogs became tame, and used to help with hunting. Spiders and lizards came to eat the mosquitoes and flies. Everybody lived happily together. Although there was a problem with the rats who would come to steal food.’

          ‘That was not so good,’ said Nawiti.

          ‘Not at all,’ I agreed. ‘People wasted too much time chasing rats. Then one day a great python from the forest appeared in the village and said Rats are my favorite food, let me stay in your village and your rat problem will be over.’

          ‘And were their problems over?’

          ‘Oh yes. Anytime the python found a rat he just swallowed it whole. So he soon became a popular friend of the people. Everybody call him PF, although nobody was quite sure whether PF meant Popular Friend or Python of the Forest.’

          ‘So everybody was now happy?’ suggested Nawiti.

          ‘It was not a happy time,’ I replied sadly. ‘It was the time when people were becoming very unhappy with their chief, a fat and greedy fellow called Nyamasoya. He would take the people’s beer for his own beer parties and take their cows to buy more wives for himself.’

          ‘So the people became annoyed?’

          ‘Of course. But the Python from the Forest knew how to take advantage of the situation. While people were sleeping he would go round whispering in people’s ears, saying I am your popular friend PF, I got rid of the rats for you and now I can get rid of Nyamasoya! Vote for me and I shall swallow him whole! Shush! Don’t kubeba! Just vote for me! ’

          ‘And did they?’ wondered Nawiti.

          ‘Oh yes. The PF was elected Chief and immediately assumed the grand title of His Excellency the Greatest Python from the Forest and Swallower of the Enemies of the People.’

          ‘And did he swallow all the enemies of the people?’

          ‘Oh yes. He completely encircled Nyamasoya, and then slowly swallowed him. He had indigestion for three weeks.’

          ‘But wasn’t he supposed to put Nyamasoya before a judge?’

          ‘He had already swallowed all the judges and replaced them with parrots.’

          ‘Wasn’t that against the law?’

          ‘He made the law himself!’

          ‘How did he do that?’

          ‘He swallowed all the opposition members of parliament!’

          ‘Was that allowable under the constitution?’

          ‘He’d already swallowed the constitution!’

          ‘Couldn’t he be prosecuted?’

          ‘He swallowed the prosecutor!’

          ‘So there wasn’t a prosecutor?’

          ‘He replaced him with a snake!’

          ‘Oh dear,’ said Nawiti sadly, ‘He had seemed to be such a well meaning python, but now he was swallowing everybody!’

          ‘Not everybody,’ I explained. ‘Only those with power. Soon the Python from the Forest had all the power to himself, and nobody could challenge him. All the institutions of the state had been swallowed. The police force was completely swallowed, and replaced by a pack of mindless hyenas.’

          ‘Did he really have to eat everything?’

          ‘The appetite for power is a form of gluttony. The more the python eats, the more he wants to eat. Until all its competitors for power have been swallowed.’

          ‘So what happens then? What other power can it feed upon when the only power remaining is itself?’

          ‘That is the inevitable and tragic part of the story,’ I replied sadly. ‘There was nothing left for it to attack. The monster now had no choice but to turn upon itself. The internal organs of the python begin to fight each other for power. The little brain, the Dotty, tried to get more power over the mouth in order to get more food for itself. But greedy mouth, the Kabika, now reached down towards the Great Belly of the Monster, the GBM. The GBM desperately reached up to the heart to seek protection, but found nothing there but a spitting cobra. As the python writhed in the agony of its own self destruction, its swallowed victims escaped from its torn belly. And so, after the agonies of the PF dictatorship, the village of Zed returned to normal.’

          ‘Ooh,’ said Nawiti, ‘what a relief!’

          ‘And ever since then,’ I explained, ‘people have always been frightened of snakes, even when they look quite innocent and peaceful. Tell me, as those boys were killing the snake, what were they shouting?’

          ‘I’m not sure,’ she said. ‘It sounded like they were chanting Piss Off! Piss Off!’

          ‘No,’ I said. ‘They were chanting PF! PF!’