FLIES

Flies

A young fly was feasting on a huge pile of rotting garbage in Chainda, along with a million other flies. He turned to his neighbour, an older fellow and wiser in the ways of the world and its rubbish dumps. ‘Chilunshi,’ he said, ‘how lucky we are to live in a world full of stinking rubbish, with so much to eat. We must praise the Lord that he has blessed us with such a glorious mess!’

‘Kalunshi,’ replied the wise old fly, ‘you are new in the world, and never knew the hard times. There was a time, before the Lord in His wisdom provided us with all this sewage and rotting flesh, when everything was clean and sweet smelling, when there was nothing for us to eat, and when the humans waged senseless war on us innocent flies.’

‘So how did the world manage to change so miraculously in our favour?’ wondered the innocent Kalunshi.

‘It wasn’t easy,’ replied Chilunshi, ‘we had to take over the government. ‘Come with me, let us fly to State House, and I’ll show you what I mean.’

‘My belly is too full with this dead man’s eyeball,’ whined Kalunshi, ‘can’t we just catch a mini-bus?’

‘The pot-holes are terrible,’ replied Chilunshi, ‘the only way to get there is to fly.’

And so it was that, only thirty minutes later, the two flies were sitting high on the wall in the banqueting room in State House, looking down on the very centre of government. Below them, lolling on two huge armchairs, were two monstrous pigs.

‘The one on the right is King Nyamasoya,’ explained Chilunshi. ‘The other is his Minister for Slavery and Starvation, the dreaded Austerity Litako.’

‘Ha ha,’ laughed Kalunshi, ‘how can a man called Austerity be so disgustingly fat, he looks like one big fat buttock!’

‘Austerity for everybody else has given prosperity to him,’ explained Chilunshi.

As they were talking, Nyamasoya suddenly squealed at the closed door ‘Bring him in! Bring him in!’

The door opened, and into the room was thrown a big White Poodle dog, who skidded to a halt as he hit the fat wooden leg of the banqueting table, and lay there whimpering miserably.

‘You useless White Poodle!’ squealed Nyamasoya. ‘What kind of investor are you? He held up a copy of The Boast, ‘it’s all over the front page! Shoplift workers on strike! Complaining to government about starvation wages!’

‘You said your humans were docile and stupid,’ whinged the poodle, ‘but they began to toyi toyi all over my shop shop!’

‘When you came here from Pretoria, didn’t my minister here, the Honorable Litako, tell you to keep their wages down? Would they have had the energy to toyi toyi like this if you had kept them on a starvation diet? Don’t you know strikes are illegal here? Allowing a strike is a criminal act! Why can’t you do like the Chinese and shoot them?’

Kalunshi turned to his friend rather puzzled. ‘I can’t understand why humans elect these horrific pigs into government!’

‘They don’t,’ laughed Chilunshi. ‘They turn into pigs afterwards!’

The Great Pig Nyamasoya continued to rant at the White Poodle. ‘And now they are even demanding pensions! Pensions! Ha! Don’t they know they’ll never live long enough to collect pensions! And it’s two years since you donated to the party!’

‘Er, ah, you see,’ blubbered the White Poodle, ‘we haven’t been making a profit!’

‘Of course you haven’t been making a profit! You’ve been feeding the workers instead of the party! Get out! Get out!’ screamed Nyamasoya, as the dog scooted through the door, leaving behind a puddle of wet shit.

‘Ah ha!’ said Kalunshi, ‘now I see why the country is in such a delicious stinking mess. But how did the government manage to sink so marvelously low?’

‘Simple,’ laughed Chilunshi. ‘We flies took over the government!’

‘I thought these mad pigs were in charge!’

‘Yes, they are. But we are the ones who sent them mad. We lay our eggs in their ears. Our maggots have corrupted their brains.’

‘How do you get into their ears?’

‘Pigs are very greedy and gullible. You just whisper I know how to make you very rich, and they will let you creep right into their ear to tell them the secret.

Now Nyamasoya was shouting at the Honourable Litako. ‘Get hold of Mr Ching Chang and tell him he can take over Shoplift. Tell him I’ll nationalize it tomorrow because of mismanagement, and I’ll sell it to him for nothing on Thursday. Then he should fire all the native slaves for causing anarchy and chaos, and replace them with Chinese convicts. As for the White Poodle, the Chinese can eat him! I’ll invite them all here for the braii!’

‘Monstrous pigs!’ exclaimed Kalunshi. ‘Why don’t the humans vote them out?’

‘Don’t be silly,’ laughed Chilunshi, ‘we’ve also corrupted the Electoral Confusion of Zed. Their brains are now so full of maggots that they count maggots instead of votes. We’ve also corrupted the Judiciary of Stinking Judgements and the Parliament of Crooked Constitutions. The country is now a nightmare for humans, but a paradise for flies. Shit and rubbish everywhere.’

‘And rotting human flesh,’ said Kalunshi, licking his lips.

‘Yes,’ said Chilunshi. ‘Parasites in Government! The PIG is back!’

‘But can it last?’ wondered Kalunshi.

‘Nothing lasts for ever,’ sighed the wise old Chilunshi. ‘Some people say that when the Chinese have eaten all the dogs, they’ll start on the pigs.’

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[This story incorporated some ideas from Mayani Changala and Simasiku Kashweka]