BAR TALK with Bra Gee
Who am I?
I am a singer and am not the only one so inclined in the family. In fact you could call this gospel music a family career. I am a supposed pillar of the society and everyone refers to me with a title that shows my substance.
Now what many people in the circles know is that I am a nasty character with a reputation for being a control freak. I do not have good relations with band members who think that they can challenge my word which is their law.
Why, I once fired one such fellow on stage during a performance in a neighbouring country.
The upstart wanted to claim the money that was being thrown on stage by spectators as his due instead of understanding that I had taken him to that place and therefore the money was all mine.
Anyway, that is not the nadir of my illustrious music career. The ugly truth that you have never read in any of our patriarchal papers is that I am a wife beater.
Yes, that woman that you all see out there is a battered woman.
Of course I have toned down the ultimate disciplinary measures as we mature and she has increasingly learnt to keep her place, but occasionally she needs to be kept in check. So as your role model of a successful marriage in showbiz, I would urge all these youngsters to really beat their wives for long lasting marriages.
Do not fan with your underwear but use your clenched fists and give them black eyes.
When you beat a woman well, she never stands up in public to spout nonsense about domestic violence, but repeatedly assures the nation that you are her best friend. Whenever she is invited on TV and other forums to talk about women’s rights she always warns her sisters to know their place as being under the man.
Shoot ‘em all
Okay, first of all we must say that we do not automatically believe the claims of South Korea and her American friends so the jury is still out on whether the North Korean minister was really executed for dozing during official events.
Of course we do not expect the revered Kim Jong Un to deign to explain his domestic affairs to his enemies or even his friends.
But it is the anti-aircraft fire part that really made us stop to question this story which really does sound ridiculously made up. Why waste weapons that you may need to use against those big enemies when a simple bullet would do instead?
Whatever the truth of the matter may be, we think that it is a shame that the world would never accept this a useful practice to adopt. Just imagine how many dead beat politicians we would have gotten rid of in this very country if we executed all those who sleep in Parliament, some of them even during televised debates?
What can be more treasonous than elected and appointed representatives of the people supremely betraying the trust reposed in them by literally sleeping on the job? To that crime majeur we could also add other minor ones like corruption and incompetence.
You would never again have to complain about false election promises, we assure you.
We have been largely amiss, in thought, if not in word and deed. We thought that the minister protecting the hated Cuthbert was doing it out of some sinister motives or something like that. But now we have discovered that we could not have been more wrong. We sincerely apologise to the honourable being.
After being apprised of the esteemed gentleman’s behaviour this past week we have reached the conclusion that maybe the man is just gormless, not evil per se.
Our snobbish pals at the usual place gleefully shared with us how the man made a veritable clown of himself at some illustrious church building that was holding some toff event.
The minister, we are told, kept over 5 000 people waiting for all of 30 minutes then importantly walked in with his entourage.
The crowd clapped mockingly and the man thought they were applauding him for honouring them with his presence!
He was then called to address the crowd and wasted more time by having some unappealing looking aide walk to the podium and arrange his speech before the man himself would deign to talk to the people.
Then instead of apologising for delaying the show, the minister launched into some long winded nothing which only showed that he had no clue as to just what was going down.
“Bhaleti, bhalleti,” he harangued the people who had come to see a rare treat in the form of a ballet performance and not a practical demonstration in how not to wear a suit.
That our snobbish friends could have forgiven him for, even the failure to Google the word ballet on his way to the show.
But what they found hard to take was his inability to pronounce “People’s” which he mumbled repeatedly.
The second time he fumbled the word they clapped to tell him it was time to get off.
But he took that as his due accolade until they had to boo him off the stage as they told him that they were there for the ballet, not him.
Just as well that this was not some Zim Dancehall gig or our dear boy Soul Jah Love would have provided some apt epithets for the minister while the fans put their cans to good use.
Of course we laughed until tears ran into our drinks as our snobbish friends recounted that tragi-comedy.
But what really matters is what this means in our Cuthbert must go campaign.
If the way in which the minister handled himself that night is typical of his daily performance, then it has become crystal clear that maybe the man who must make a bold decision does not know how to go about it.
So it looks like until we get rid of this man, there is no way we will get rid of Cuthbert. And Cuthbert must go. #ndinindadaro
We have become so desperate that we are seriously considering consulting the prophet who has shown interest in football to use his alleged direct line to the fellow upstairs to assist.
Last Call: Pavements space wanted
One Harare loafer to another: I wanted to be a vendor but could not find a free piece of pavement
Till next week, bottoms up
Email: firstname.lastname@example.org, Facebook: Bra Gee, Twitter: @brageesbar