Looking for a nude minister
Bame Piet | Thursday March 26, 2015 18:16
I am more in love with our parliament, and that is why I have purchased a tent, on hire purchase albeit, just to set up a camp at the National Assembly backyard to get a glimpse of this nude minister. I hope that the security guards will not give me trouble because we promote ‘backyard this, backyard that’. Mine is an innocent backyard home and a temporary one. I do not need government assistance to set this one up.
I am confident that the young people’s movement is getting into the heads of our leaders. I can’t believe that a month after a young man swam in the parliament fountain to cool himself down, his actions would have so much impact. The impact is so huge, leading to a minister threatening to go naked if her wishes are not granted. Apparently she wanted to go swimming in the fountain.
So, I have taken eight days leave and I lied to my manager that I lost a relative in a horrific accident. I cried right before him as I narrated the accident. He believed me, and allowed me mourning period.
Now, I am going to pitch my tent and wait for that moment when the minister will undress. I am confident that I will find a spot where security officers will not see me. I will bath in the fountain, and eat in the parliament canteen.
By the way, I am informed that a few days subsequent to the threat to go nude, security officers were often chased out of the parliament chamber pretending to be keeping order, whilst in fact they were waiting for the ‘moment’. Apparently the public gallery has been very lucky of late, filled to capacity with spectators, majority of whom being men. My source has confided in me that last Monday there was a near-stampede of men forcing their way into the National Assembly.
They were very quite, but determined to go into the national assembly, something we have never witnessed since the beginning of the year, said my source. She said that others waited patiently outside the House.
She added that they continue to throng the National Assembly in large numbers and that I should set up the camp urgently, lest I find all spots occupied. I just want that ‘moment’ and I will be okay for the rest of my life.
The minister’s vigour, a readiness to go off-limit reminded me of an incident a few weeks ago in my neighbourhood.
I was on my way to work when I found my neighbour embroiled in a heated argument with a street vendor, who also happens to be a neighbour. She sells small items such as sweets, cigarettes, cold drinks, and chips for school kids.
The woman in her thirties was very aggressive, and ready to lose her life to protect her property She had grabbed my neighbour with the neck, accusing him of owing her an amount for cigarettes.
“Rre yo nako tsotlhe o tsaya motsoko mo go nna, ga a nke a ntuela. Ke lapile, ga ke kake ka tla go otla monna hela yo o kana ka motsoko, bongwanake ba bolawa ke tlala.” She held on the collar of the man, refusing to let go. Members of the public stopped to watch as I tried to bring peace between the two. My neighbour insisted that he was going to pay the lady, but she was not in any position to entertain such rubbish.
“Let me pay the amount and you let him go,” I offered. She refused. Apparently the fight was an ice-tip of something bigger than just ‘smoked’ cigarettes. It was only after about five minutes that my neighbour used force to free himself from the tight grip of the lady. Later in the afternoon I received a call from the police who summoned me to the station to give a statement on what I witnessed in the morning. I complied and went to give testimony.
I met with my neighbour and his story was totally different from the war I witnessed earlier.”kana motho yole o a tsenwa, monna I am a former civil servant, I know my rights,” he boasted. I was a senior assistant messenger when I left the civil service.
I asked him; how many cigarettes did you take from the lady and not pay for?”
He looked at me, I never count, but I always pay her. When did you last pay her? I asked him. He did not respond.
Our conversation was interrupted by a knock on door and another neighbour entered. She joined our conversation by first accusing the vendor of arrogance, rudeness and greed.
“Ha o tlhaelelwa ke 25 thebe, ga a kake a go neela se o se rekang,” she blasted. She also shared a story on how her daughter went to school without a pencil because ‘that thing’ would not give it on credit.
I left the house and went straight to my house. On the way I remembered where I put my money during the weekend with my cousin. There it was, P2000 hidden in between the bricks behind the pit latrine.
‘How did I put it there?” So I’m not broke!