The Chilufya Comedy Show

The Chilufya Comedy Show

‘Come quick,’ Sara shouted, ‘you’re missing the Chilufya Comedy Show!’ I rushed to the sitting room, and settled down in front of the TV.

There on the screen, standing behind his famous desk, surrounded by his comedy team, with a stern expression on his face, was our favourite comedian, Constable Chilufya.

In front of the desk stood a bent old man with a bald head. His left hand clutched a stick to prevent him falling over, but his right hand was raised high, holding a bible. Saliva dribbled down his chin as he pronounced the sacred oath of office, ‘I solemnly swear to keep government secrets.’

‘And I hope you do,’ said Constable Chilufya severely. ‘I don’t want any loose or careless talk in my government. For example, yesterday I overheard somebody gossiping that the previous minister was receiving three salaries, that his qualifications were fake, and that he was previously fired from Yunza for stealing students’ bicycles. Now this is the sort of information which must be kept strictly secret, otherwise it could undermine investor confidence.’

‘Ha ha,’ I laughed. ‘His humour has a fine sense of irony.’

‘Yes,’ laughed Sara. ‘And I like the way he keeps a straight face.’

‘Yes, Your Most Sacred Excellency,’ said the poor old man, as he tried to step backwards but tripped over his own walking stick. The Protocol Officer managed to catch him as he fell, and carry him out of the room.’

‘You see,’ said Constable Chilufya, ‘how soft hearted I am to re-appoint these ancient hangovers from an earlier age. Their pension funds were looted by the previous fake government, so I can only keep them alive by giving them fake jobs in my government.’

‘Even his lackeys,’ I laughed, ‘they also manage to keep straight faces.’

‘It's all part of the discipline of the comedy team,’ explained Sara. ‘But see how some of them are looking at their boots, or looking out of the window. They’re actually bursting to laugh, but they know they mustn’t! The whole joke is to make it look serious!’

As we were talking, the consummate comedian turned with deadpan expression to his next victim. ‘Mr Kwindili, as the new Minister of Foreign Affairs, you need to be respectful and diplomatic towards your subordinates. If you don’t respect your subordinates, they will never respect you.’ But having said that, Constable Chilufya looked slowly and menacingly around the room. ‘Talking of subordinates,’ he said, ‘where is my Secretary to the Cabinet this morning? The incompetent buffoon has been avoiding me ever since I discovered that he allowed a fake buyer to steal fake gold from right under his fat nose. Find the slippery fellow and bring him here immediately!’

Now up stepped up an old woman in a faded PF chitenge. She held the bible high, saying ‘I swear to find jobs for all my relatives.’

‘He’s actually appointing a woman!’ I exclaimed.

‘See what job she gets,’ Sara sneered.

‘Mrs Bwalya, I mean, er, Ms Kabanshi, I have appointed you to a very responsible position in the Ministry of Finance, as Chief Cleaner. But I have to warn you right now not to misuse your position in order to poke your nose in wrong places, or try to clean up this notoriously dirty ministry. Only yesterday I fired the previous Cleaner with immediate effect after she went into the fake Minister’s office and found him printing untold trillions of fake money on an old fake Gestetner duplicating machine. If news of this scandal had leaked out then the country could have suffered capital flight, a fall in the value of the kwacha, and possibly general financial panic.’

‘If people took him seriously,’ I laughed, ‘ he really could cause a financial collapse!’

‘Don’t be silly,’ laughed Sara. ‘Everybody knows it’s just a comedy show.’

Now up to the desk waddled a fat middle-aged man, whose open mouth and vacant expression belied the cunning in his beady little eyes. He held high the bible, saying ‘I swear to put an end to all the nonsense in this government.’

Constable Chilufya looked at him, seemingly puzzled. ‘Are you the new head of the DEC or the ACC? You can’t be the new Chief Justice, I’m not due to fire the crooked old fellow until next week. Were you given a letter of appointment? Let me see it. It might be a fake.’

‘I am Mr Sarcastic Sikota,’ he replied, ‘and I am here on behalf of my client Mr Sanctimonious Mumbo Jumbo, formerly Ambassador to Alaska, whom you have publicly accused of selling fake snow to the Eskimos. You have claimed that the evidence for these crimes was collected when the Director for Eskimo Corruption, the DEC, was sent on a fishing expedition to Alaska. Since these fake allegations have destroyed my client’s career as an ambassador, my client is claiming damages of one trillion to rebuild his career as a fake pastor.’

At this point Constable Chilufya leant forward and shook the hand of Sarcastic Sikota. ‘Ah, now I remember. I am swearing you in as Leader of the Task Force. Your job is to clear out all the nonsense and corruption from my government!’

‘Didn’t he appoint a new Task Force Leader last week?’ I laughed.

‘That one,’ laughed Sara, ‘turned out to be a fake.’