Enemy
of the People
The judge leant
forward towards the prosecutor. ‘What is the charge against this man?’
‘The first charge, M’Lord, is that he
was found walking down Addis Ababa Avenue on the right hand side of the road
instead of the left.’
The judge now turned to the accused.
‘Mr Wakunguma Munukuyumbwa, how do you answer this charge?’
‘M’Lord, as I understand it, the law
on keeping to the left applies only to motorists.’
‘I am much amused,’ sneered the judge,
‘that you should come to my court to advise me on the law. You have apparently
overlooked that it is I, the judge, who has been employed to advise you on the
law. I therefore have to advise you that it is a constitutional principle that
the law applies equally to all, and that no person or category can claim to be
above the law, least of all pedestrians.’
‘Huh,’ Sara whispered in my ear, ‘This
one may be bought and paid for!’
‘Silence in court!’ shouted the judge.
‘Mr Wakunguma Munukuyumbwa, if that is all you have to say in your defence, I
may as well find you guilty on the spot, to save this court wasting its time.
Do you have anything else to say?’
‘Yes, M’Lord. There were twenty-five
people rounded up for walking on the wrong side of the road. But when we got to
Manda Hill Police Post, the inspector pointed at me and said This is the one we want! All the others can
go!’
‘Ha ha!’ jeered the audience, ‘He’d
been fingered!’
‘Silence!’ shouted the judge, ‘Or I’ll
clear the court!’
‘M’Lord,’ said the prosecutor, ‘The
accused is not telling the full story. The evidence shows that the accused was
in fact the leader of the group, and was the very one who had misled the others
to walk on the wrong side of the road without a police permit, thereby defying and
challenging the legitimate authority of the state with a view to causing
anarchy throughout the nation.’
‘Treason!’ I laughed.’
‘Shush!’ said Sara
‘Silence!’ shouted the judge.
‘M’Lord,’ pleaded Munukuyumbwa, ‘The
inspector checked our names against a list in his file. Then he pointed at me
and said This is the one we want, the
rest can go!’
Now the prosecutor was on his feet.
‘M’Lord, this evidence relates to the further charges against Munukuyumbwa, who
we had finally caught after he had been on the run for a long time. We first
opened a docket against him in1967 when he went straight through a speed trap
without stopping. We also have photographic evidence that in 1975 he changed
money on Katondo Street, contrary to the Exchange Control Act of 1954. And last
year Speedway Dry Cleaners found a ten pin note in his suit, contrary to the
Money Laundering Act of 1993.’
‘The fishermen have been fishing!’
somebody laughed.
‘An Enemy of the People!’ laughed
another, ‘Lock him up!’
‘Silence!’ shouted the judge, ‘Or I’ll
charge you all with contempt of court!’
‘And there are far more serious
charges,’ said the prosecutor solemnly. ‘Munukuyumbwa is also charged with
assaulting a policeman, which carries a minimum sentence of five years.’
‘How do you answer this charge?’ asked
the judge sternly.
‘I hit him in the face,’ explained
Munukuyumbwa, ‘because he was squeezing my essentials.’
‘Do you have any evidence of this?’
asked the judge.
‘They refused to issue a police
report,’ answered Munukuyumbwa.
‘He’s lying again,’ cried the prosecutor
triumphantly, as he waved a piece of paper in the air. ‘I have the police
report right here. It shows that the constable had an unusually flat nose,
clear evidence that he was hit in the face.’
‘Any other charges?’ asked the judge.
‘The next charge,’ declared the
prosecutor solemnly, ‘is that Munukuyumbwa, while in the cells, did show treasonable
disrespect for state property by defecating in a bucket which clearly had Republic of Zambia stamped on it.’
‘A clear case of sedition,’ declared the
judge.
‘There is worse, M’Lord,’ intoned the
prosecutor solemnly, as he grasped the national flag
in one hand and the bible in the other. ‘We have material evidence that
Munukuyumbwa did willfully disrespect and maliciously damage state property.
Specifically, he took hold of a copy of the Draft Constitution that had been
left in the cells, tore it into pieces, and took advantage of it in order to
complete his ablutions. He has revealed himself as the Enemy of the People!’
‘Guilty as charged!’ declared the
judge.
‘Malicious prosecution!’ shouted
another.
‘The judge has torn up the
constitution!’ somebody else shouted.
But before the judge could even shout
for silence, twenty policemen ran onto the stage. At the same moment the back
doors of the auditorium flew open and hundreds of policemen stormed down the
theatre aisles in full riot gear, guns at the ready. Then a little fellow, in a
police uniform far too big for him, jumped onto the centre of the stage.
‘That’s Sillyman Jelly,’ laughed Sara.
‘The Chief Goon.’
‘This meeting is now cancelled,’ squealed
little Sillyman, ‘because a permit was not granted.’
‘Why not?’ we all laughed.
‘Sillyman Jelly pointed at the three
hundred police that surrounded the one hundred theatergoers. ‘Because we don’t
have enough manpower!’
‘Ha ha!’ everybody laughed as we all stood
up clapped. ‘Very good play!’ somebody shouted. ‘Very realistic!’
‘But it wasn’t realistic,’ I said to
Sara afterwards. ‘The real thing is more ridiculous.’
‘Yes,’ said Sara. ‘And far more
frightening.’
