Hate him or love him, there is no ignoring Mompati Merafhe.
I had vowed never to write a word about him until such time that he had announced his retirement, or to put it more cruelly, until he was sacked from Government ÔÇô whichever had come first.
But like a drug addict who cannot stay for a day without taking the forbidden substance, I find myself unable to honour the promise I made to myself.
For a commoner who did not go far beyond primary school but as part of his long public service career rose through the ranks, not only to become the first commander of the national defence force and later a vice president of the republic, Merafhe’s has been a spectacular achievement indeed.
For that we should honour him and give him our unreserved credit.
I wouldn’t be surprised to learn that he sometimes wakes up at night just to check if his is not but a little fairy dream tale from which he will one day be rudely awakened only to find that everything about it had been untrue.
There is a little nice phrase that is often cited by the Vice President: “No one takes out of politics the good reputation that they brought into it.”
What is remarkable about this statement is not so much the fact that it has been adopted from an intellectual American President who uttered it over a hundred years ago but rather the extent to which it has come to presciently, succinctly and ironically reflect the tapestry of Merafhe’s own political career.
He left the army as a decorated army general to join politics as a much liked and admired senior minister the following day.
He will leave politics as a figure of both hate and spite, that’s for certain.
For a man who took so much into politics, he is going to leave empty handed and possibly miserable, we can rest guaranteed.
In all fairness to the man, Vice President Mompati Merafhe does not possess the kind of moral authority needed to resolve the ongoing public service strike impasse.
The man is thoroughly divisive.
He is also thoroughly unapologetic about his contempt for those who do not agree with him.
For many years Botswana’s chief diplomat, how shocking it is that there does not seem to be a single strain of diplomacy left in his blood.
His recent attacks on the members of his own party in Mahalapye, who he accused had wished him to die so that they could inherit his constituency betrayed a mocking disrespect for a nation that was so unanimously united in praying for his speedy recovery.
I am abnormally aware how Merafhe’s strong man public demeanour often conceals a softer, warm-hearted, friendly and casual private deportment, especially when surrounded by his clutch of like-minded placemen, courtiers and hangers-on.
I am abnormally conscious of his approachability, the seriousness with which he regards personal friendships and the extent to which he normally goes and bends to help out those who he deems most in need.
Gregarious and egotistical to the bone, he likes to regale his admirers with stories of his fast, or should we say unprecedented rise as a police officer.
So dazzling were his promotions that at times he not only was promoted twice a year, but was, at least on one occasion made to skip some ranks.
“I was never a Senior Superintendent. I was promoted from Superintendent to Assistant Commissioner,” he likes to say.
But for many Batswana whose only interaction with him is on the public side of things no better captured as when he plays his beloved role of a hit man, it is only that uncaring side of him that must be interrogated, questioned and exposed for all to see.
Not only has he turned himself into Khama’s attack dog, he also has so firmly embedded himself as the anchor of the political paralysis we have endured since April 1, 2008, the date when for the first time in our history we found ourselves under the unenviable jackboot of not one, but two uncompromising retired army generals.
After his recent behavior in Mahalapye, I doubt very much the man still has a big personal following left in the ruling party.
It perhaps says a lot about his public character that Merafhe emerged from hospital bed to immediately become the public face of an obstinate government in the handling of a public strike that was already on its course a long time before his arrival.
He is a man who is wholly unable to allow any controversy to pass by without him attempting to become the main character.
It is not by coincidence that since his comeback he has become more immersed and enmeshed on the wrong side of public opinion than President Ian Khama ever was during the early days of the strike.
In fact, of the two, Merafhe has now become a bigger hindrance to reaching a meaningful settlement.
Every time he stands up to speak, his sympathizers hold their breath, worried not so much by the toxin they are certain to come from his mouth but by the inevitable divisions he so unfailingly leaves on his trail.
Because the current Vice President seems so out of touch, all of a sudden we remember Festus Mogae ÔÇô himself dismissed as an object of detachment during his time in that position ÔÇô with nostalgic popularity.
At this point I think only Merafhe’s departure from politics can save the country from a mode of total collapse into which he has plunged us with his abrasive handling of the strike action of which I suspect he still does not have the full details since it started and went into full swing at a time when he was still on sick leave.
Merafhe may have had a splendid public service career. But just look at how it is going to end, which I think at this stage is what should concern him most.
Even as he puts on a strong face, I suspect looking back, he craves his days in the police force when he was the darling of the ranks and wishes he had retired to his home village after yet another distinguished career in the army. Politics has been such an unbearable rollercoaster for him.
But then he should know better: no one takes out of politics the good reputation that they brought into it.
Batswana hate to be taken lightly, as Mompati Merafhe and Ian Khama are being reminded by several signals for which the two may yet come to pay heavy prices.
