Of confused politicians and convicted chefs

BAR TALK with Bra Gee
Who am I?

Now where do we start? I have been called all sorts of names, dressed in all sorts of outfits and more tellingly associated with countless lassies some of whose names I cannot even pronounce.

My enemies even claimed that I stole a whole school, whole physical school, imagine. Of course it was part of a trust estate which I personalised, but I never stole it.

But in the midst of all this I have maintained my superiority and never been at a loss for words, even when I had nothing to say.

Needless to say I have been given the boot, and I will not go into details regarding exactly which parts they have landed on, but I feel the pain.

Just like in the game of poker, I was holding my cards very close to confuse the nosy ones who have the propensity of loud mouthing my intentions long before the game is done, but it seems they never rest.

Remember how they made noise about the briefcase that my Muzukuru and I got from those white boys for the sweet deal?

But I’m not letting them get away with this one. I said I am the genuine article. So of course I was not going to go under any other name except the one that is mine.

But now the last vestiges of the giant robes have been torn asunder and I am as naked as a new born baby.

Why, even the ones who gave me succor and were content to feed off my greed are now saying that my DNA does not entitle me to their name!

Now I am wondering how long all these lassies are going to stick around as it looks like money and I will never be friends again.

I guess it was always written in the stars that Dear Morgan and I would end up in the same bed. We are certainly ugly enough to be brothers and share this rampant need for constant updates of the companionship App.

So it’s true

We said we were rather ambivalent and would sooner forego our favourite drink than believe anything that the good ‘Profit’ might care to give us as a prophecy straight from the mouth of those from the highest offices.

Turns out it was all mischief and the man did not say it at all. So for us that makes it closer to the gospel truth and we are prepared to believe it wholeheartedly.

But of course we are allowed to retain a pinch of our usual cynicism. Are you confused? We will explain:

Obviously some person with real intelligence wanted to share it. But realised that if the words were to come from a nobody, no one would take them seriously.

So the person hid behind the name of a man whose words are not his own, but those of the deity that many worship, at least so he would have us believe.

It was obviously the hope of this author that just one journalist, not two, just one, would do their job and get the real stories so obviously seething in the cauldron of innuendos and rumours and desperate PR exercises that we have seen over the past few weeks.

Sadly that author is bound to remain a very disappointed person until such a time as when they put their (very fat) wallet where their mouth is. But that is a topic for another day.

We did say we have a slight reservation.

We do not rule out that the mischief maker is an agent of the tree that is supposed to remain strong who is irked at how the one supposedly about to fall down seems to have all the crowds while the numbers for that one have remained stagnant or are actually falling.

We are not saying that this agent would have been operating with the blessing of his spiritual father, in fact we think that one is too smart to bark up such a tree.

If you doubt how clever the fellow is then just look at the number of people whose pockets he has kept captive over the years while the owners believe that blessings are being showered on them when in reality us observers at the usual place see nothing out of the ordinary happening to them.

As we have said before, we do not begrudge the man and his pickings; in fact we envy him and wish we had the same ability to get hordes sweating for our own aggrandisement.

Pulverise the key

Can things get any better? We celebrated the arrest of the hitherto untouchables.

We were delirious to see them wearing the same garb that has been worn by murderers, thieves, prostitutes and child abusers.

Right there next to their skins which had been up to then used to only the finest designer wear. We thought that was enough. But no, now we have an actual conviction.

Thank you Magistrate for convicting them and sentencing them to some real prison time.

Now please pulverise the key, because if you just throw them away some friend of theirs is bound to pick it up and set them free behind our backs.

But there is only one problem. We like the way this is going and want to get used to it like those French peasants gleefully holding their picnics while the guillotine came down. So please let us see some more heads rolling.

This is the point where we rue the time we spent aiming for teachers’ heads with catapults instead of getting a book education.

Maybe if we were schooled in matters legal we would understand why Happsion Muchechetere got to remain out of custody and why his case is dragging on ad infinitum.

We would give up our month’s supply of drinks to see that one resplendent in that khaki uniform.

We arrogantly believe that it was the pressure we kept piling on for Dudu Manhenga’s case to be finalised that finally got a result. We may just be a bunch of drunkards guzzling the happy waters at the usual place, but you cannot deny our capacity for embarrassing some very important personages with our observations. So shall we start a ‘Conclude the Muchechetere Case Crusade’?

And we have not forgotten the Get Rid of Cuthbert campaign.

The dear ministers led us to believe that something would be done, but now it looks like they are happy to let the situation remain as is.

Do the football fans of this country need to physically lift this man out of ZIFA House for someone to take matters seriously?

And is that structure and the village still in existence or is it just a matter of time before someone produces mortgage documents and ignored final demand letters?

Last Call: Drive them wild

Q: What’s six inches long, two inches wide and drives women wild?

A: A $100 bill! – source: http://www.jokes4us.com

Till next week, bottoms up!

Facebook: Bra Gee,Email: bragees bar@gmail.com, Twitter: @brageesbar