Tuesday, August 21, 2012

Cycle Mata Deported


Cycle Mata Deported

          I found Sara already at breakfast, largely hidden behind the Daily Nation which was propped up against the huge teapot that she inherited from her mother. ‘Good morning darling,’ I said, as I sat down and poured myself a bowl of cornflakes. ‘What’s the news this morning? What’s Cycle Mata done now?’
          ‘He’s been deported,’ she replied.
          ‘Don’t be silly,’ I laughed. ‘He’s the one who does the deporting, so how can he be deported?’
          ‘I only know what I read in the paper,’ she said. ‘It says here that reliable sources from within State House have confirmed that Cycle Mata was helicoptered out of State House in the early hours of Tuesday morning.’
          ‘Ha ha,’ I laughed, ‘did he serve himself with the deportation order?’
          ‘According to this report,’ said Sara, ‘it was all arranged very smoothly. ‘He was just told that he was being flown to Mpulungu, where he would officially designate two new provinces and twelve new districts in the area which was previously known as Lake Tanganyika.’
          ‘Well,’ I admitted, ‘that bit certainly rings true. It was a project very dear to his heart.’
          ‘But instead,’ Sara explained, ‘he was flown to Dar-es-Salaam.’
          ‘Of course,’ I laughed, ‘there’s always been the suspicion that he’s really a Tanzanian. Perhaps he’ll do better there. And he’ll be able to create even more provinces in the Indian Ocean.’
          ‘You don’t believe this story, do you?’
          ‘When you’ve been in the newspaper business as long as I have,’ I said, ‘you learn to be skeptical. Yesterday’s screaming headline on the front page is tomorrow’s little apology on page twelve. Besides, it’s only the Minister for Bullets and Deportations who can issue a deportation order, not reliable sources from within State House.’
          ‘You’ve been so busy scoffing at the story,’ said Sara, ‘that I haven’t yet been able to read you the quote from the Minister, Mr Eager Bungle, where he confirms that on Monday night he issued a deportation order against Cycle Mata.’
          ‘Poof,’ I poofed. ‘If you believe that, you’ll believe anything. What reason did he give for deporting Cycle Mata?’
          ‘What a silly question,’ Sara laughed. ‘Everybody knows that the Minister of Bullets and Deportations issues a deportation order when he decides that a person is a threat to peace and good order.’
          ‘Ah ha!’ I laughed. ‘Now I see the minister was put in an awkward position, with all the rising public resentment against the broken promises, firing on peaceful demonstrators and malicious prosecution of political opponents. Ha ha! Obviously he realized that Cycle Mata was a serious threat to peace and good order. His public duty was clear! He had no option but to issue the order!’
          ‘There must be more to it than that,’ Sara objected. ‘Surely these ministers have to take their instructions from Cycle Mata.’
          ‘Exactly,’ I laughed. ‘That’s why I say the story is ridiculous.’
          ‘No it isn’t,’ said Sara, as she read another bit from the front page. ‘The reliable source from State House explains what happened. It seems that, late on Monday night, Cycle Mata was meeting with his Kitchen Cabinet when…’
          ‘Kitchen Cabinet?’ I wondered. ‘What’s that?’
          ‘You don’t know them?’ laughed Sara. ‘They’re the little gang of unelected mafia who actually run the country. People like Mulembe Cheato, Red Mwimbi, Mumbwe Malole and Splinter Kapimbe. Apparently that fateful Monday night one of these slimy creatures attempted to ingratiate himself by saying Cycle Mata, O Beloved Master, your ministers are just office boys who will do whatever you tell them. And another of the odious flatterers said Yes, you are such a Mighty Leader, they respect you so much, they’ll do whatever you say! Then another went further, saying Your word is law O King! Even if you phoned Eager Bungle and told him to deport you, the halfwit would do it straight away!'
          ‘Then apparently Cycle Mata got annoyed with this nauseating and dangerous flattery, and reacted angrily by saying OK, let’s try it! So he phoned the mentally challenged Eager Bungle and shouted Send me a deportation order immediately, otherwise I’m demoting you to DC in Mwinilunga!
          ‘So the whole thing was just a joke,’ I laughed. ‘A storm in a teacup. Just another cock-up from a confused and incompetent government, drunk with power. Bungle can put things straight by just admitting that he made a mistake and reversing the deportation order!’
          ‘But according to this report,’ Sara laughed, as she read again from the newspaper, ‘it’s not as easy as that. Bungle now says that the deportation order can be reversed only if the proper channels are followed.’
          ‘But what are the proper channels?’
          ‘Obviously,' said Sara, 'He has to get new instructions from the Great Leader.’
          ‘But that’s impossible!’ I gasped. ‘If Cycle Mata has been deported, then there’s no legitimate authority to give him fresh instructions! The government has collapsed!’
          ‘Don't worry about that,’ laughed Sara, ‘A small country like ours can’t afford a huge expensive government, we’re better off without them. Now we shall be able to afford to build more universities and create more jobs and get rid of the infestors and parasites. Now Cycle Mata’s promises will all come true at last! More money in our pockets!’
          ‘It’s too good to be true!’ I shouted, as I grabbed the newspaper from behind the teapot and read the headline: HAKAINDE ARRESTED FOR DRIVING TOO SLOWLY AND REFUSING TO BRIBE A POLICEMAN.  
          ‘I knew it!' I laughed in triumph. 'I said from the start that I didn’t believe it! You were just having me on! You made it all up!'
          ‘Read the Hakainde story,’ she laughed. ‘It’s even more unbelievable!’  


            
          

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