My admiration for the white man now knows no bounds.
Unlike other blacks, I have never been jealous of white people and their achievements. On the contrary, I have often wondered how they could come up with all those inventions that have made my life so much easier.
I have no time for blacks who go around insulting white people when we could not even invent a bicycle. I know by saying this I am raising the hackles of my brothers who preach the fairy tale that all the good things in this world come from Africa and were stolen by the white man.
I often ask myself how the white man could arrive in such a huge continent and proceed to steal everything. The reason the white man managed to steal was because he brought the gun. Surely it is not his fault that my ancestors did not have the know how to invent a gun.
What the white man stole from my continent is a debate that has been raging for ages. I have decided I will no longer gnash my teeth on account of events that occurred hundreds of years ago.
I have made peace with myself. Unlike all the angry blacks I have made my peace with the white man. I have conceded defeat. The white man has won. It is time we accepted the reality of our defeat and, like the Chinese and other yellow little people with slit eyes, find ways of using the white man to advance ourselves. Today the Chinese are a superpower because they did not behave like the blacks. They did not wallow in sadness because the white man defeated them. In the not too distant future when the final war of the world is fought, I am convinced the Chinese will defeat the white man.
I suppose the blacks, as always, will be on the sidelines cheering one side against the other.
For as long as we don’t exploit the skills of the white man, there is no chance of the blacks ever defeating the white man. For as long as we wallow in self pity and anger, our ultimate dream will be to sleep with white girls.
The Chinese and another emerging superpower, the Indians, are not obsessed with sleeping with white women. They are interested in securing the secrets of the white man in order to run the world. So focused are those people that the Chinese and the Indians already are flying to the moon.
I have decided it is time for me to use the skills of the white man to uplift myself. Any one who does not adopt the ways of the white man is destined to a life of poverty. I was born poor. I do not wish to die poor.
Seeing that I cannot win the lotto and there is no chance of me inheriting a fortune how can I use the white man to acquire wealth? Well, once upon a time, the white man decided to establish insurance policies.
I don’t know how it all begun. But the theory behind life insurance was that for paying a small fee every month, at a certain point you can then cash in. If you do not live long enough to cash in, then no problem, your family can cash in and live happily ever after on account of your death.
The trick about life insurance is that for as long as you are able to pay the monthly insurance as many members of your family can sign up.
Actually it does not have to be family members only. You can sign up your friends for such a policy. Life insurance is so amazing. No Chinese, Indian or African could ever think up such a scheme.
Granted, the insurance company makes money, but the beneficiaries also make some money if they live long enough to cash in on the policy. I have had a dream for many years. My dream is to make so much money that can enable me to live happily ever after.
In pursuit of my dream I have decided to sign up all my family members on an insurance policy. Every single relative of mine will be signed on. My relatives, relaxing and gossiping in the village will soon have to fill in some forms. Given that I have so many relatives it will take a few weeks to get all of them to sign up.
As soon as I am done with my relatives, I will shift to my friends. I will get as many of them as I can muster to sign up.
Heck, I can even get some homeless Zimbos to sign up. The idea is simple. They sign up and I pay their monthly premiums.
The way it works is that if they die before me I will cash in on their policy as a beneficiary.
Of course, if I die before them that will be the end of the story. I am a good man at heart. I don’t want to die and live my relatives and friends in poverty. Nor do I want my friends and family to die and live me in poverty.
Back at school, we were taught about something called symbiosis. It means we must do good things for each other. Because I have resolved my problems with the white man and accepted my defeat, I, like the Chinese and Indians, have decided to utilize his ideas to improve my life.
From now on I don’t want any of my relatives complaining about how they suffer oppression at the hands of the white man. I don’t expect my useless friends to say the same.
As for the Zimbos, they must do as I say. They must sign up as soon as I bring the forms.
Given that I will be paying the monthly premiums, I have no wish to die before all the other beneficiaries. My challenge is to live longer than everybody that I sign up.
My wish is to nonchalantly attend the funerals of all my relatives, friends and Zimbos. I want to mourn them and then proceed to the insurance company office to cash my money.
Thank you white man for giving me a brilliant idea on how to become a millionaire!
