Transparency

Transparency

‘Your Excellency,’ said Joey Fidget, ‘thank you for agreeing to be interviewed for the BBC. A lot has happened over the last few days, following your re-election victory…’

‘My free and fair election,’ said Nyamasoya, as he leaned back in his chair and smirked at the ceiling.

‘Almost too good to be true,’ said Joey, ‘winning 99% of the vote.’

‘Never before,’ replied Nyamasoya, ‘has this country had such a brilliant election strategist as myself. You see, Joey, elections are won well before the election, not on election day.’

‘And how would you summarise your election strategy, Your Excellency?’

‘In one word, transparency,’ he replied confidently. ‘It is essential that the voters know all about the candidates. Their lives must be an open book. Above all, any past misdeeds must be confessed and repented. Even adultery must be admitted, especially if committed on a Sunday morning. Transparency is the key.’

‘With all your problems,’ said Joey, ‘I’m surprised to find you so jovial. But before we come to the present situation, tell me more about your strategy of transparency. Did you entertain the voters with graphic accounts of all your past misdeeds?’

‘Good gracious no!’ he snorted. ‘What are you thinking? A President cannot even be suspected of any misdeed. If I were to reveal any misdeed committed by myself, I would be in danger of being arrested under the Defamation of the President Act! To suggest any misdeed would be to question the judgement of God, who annointed me as Father of the Nation!’

‘Now I’m completely confused.’ Joey confessed. ‘Then where was the transparency in your election strategy?’

‘Don’t be silly,’ scoffed Nyamasoya. ‘The strategy wasn’t aimed at me, but at my opponents. These were people who had never been presidents before. Their backgrounds were unknown and needed to be exposed.’

‘Now I get it,’ said Joey. ‘You saw the prospect of digging up a murky past for your main opponent, Cycle Mata.’

‘Exactly. I probed into his past, and what I found was profoundly shocking. After interviewing a few thousand key informants, the Shushushu came across a very old man, now deaf and blind, who said he once shared a desk with Cycle Mata when he was doing his Sub A at Mpiki Primary School in 1942. Apparently one day at school Cycle Mata was crying, and when the teacher bent down to ask the little fellow what was wrong, he hit her in the face.’

‘Oh dear,’ said Joey. ‘Obviously not suitable as a presidential candidate!’

‘There’s worse,’ said Nyamasoya grimly. ‘The teacher was employed by the colonial government, which immediately recognised the threat to its authority, and jailed Cycle Mata as a terrorist.’

‘Thereby excluding him from all elections on the basis of his criminal record,’ suggested Joey helpfully.

‘So you might think. But after independence all the terrorists were re-classified as freedom fighters and let out. So instead I had him arrested under the Gender Violence Act of 2010, and thrown back into prison.’

‘But,’said Joey, scratching her grey head, ‘wasn’t the offence committed sixty years before the legislation came into effect?’

‘That’s right,’ agreed Nyamasoya. ‘So I also had him charged with concealing the offence for sixty years. But it is not for me to pre-judge the case, I have to respect the independence of the judiciary. It was just an unfortunate legal necessity that Cycle Mata had to miss the election. And as it happened, all my other election opponents experienced similar embarrassments.’

‘Resulting in a presidential election with only one party and one candidate.’

‘Yes. But luckily that didn’t matter, because the only candidate was me.’

‘But things soon went wrong after the election,’ said Joey, ‘when the mob stormed the jail and released Cycle Mata and all the other candidates!’

‘Yes. A direct challenge to the rule of law, so I had no choice but to call in the army.’

‘But instead the army came for you, and now you’re sitting in the same prison cell that Cycle Mata has just vacated.’

‘That’s right. Unfortunately we have no suitable accommodation for presidents.’

‘So the coup was a direct result of your strategy of transparency?'

‘Certainly not! It was caused by another problem entirely.’

‘What was that?’

‘I had made the mistake of putting my young nephew Dingiswayo in charge of the National Brewery. After my election victory he invited all his friends into the brewery to celebrate, and caused a national beer shortage.’

‘I’m getting lost,’ Joey admitted. ‘How does a beer shortage cause a coup d’etat?’

‘Very easily,’ explained Nyamasoya. ‘We have always avoided coups by keeping the army perpetually drunk on free beer. It’s the only way to protect national security. But once the brewery closed, the entire army had time to sober up. Once sober, they were able to think, and also to get annoyed that there was no beer. So obviously they overthrew the government.’

‘I must say you seem very calm about the situation,’ said Joey. ‘Acting President Corporal Kaponya is threatening to put you before the firing squad at dawn tomorrow. Aren’t you frightened?’

‘Not at all. I’m doing a deal with Corporal Kaponya. I have promised to make him my Vice-President.’

‘Suppose he won’t agree?’

‘He will. Otherwise I shall reveal his adultery in 1995.’

‘A good strategy,’ said Joey. ‘We must have transparency.’