Saturday, September 26, 2020

Letter from Loose Canon.

Hello good people. It’s all over.
Like that corny song goes, we say hello and we say good bye. I must say it has been one big and very long blast.
Inhabiting the pages of this newspaper, I had great fun. I could write what I wished and damn the consequences.
I am proud to have associated with a publication that rose from humble beginnings to become an illustrious newspaper of record. Did I upset many readers?

I surely hope I did. Mine was meant to be a practise in calculated provocation.

Life has its uncomfortable truths. Not everyone has the temerity to shine the light on certain taboos. As we have all been taught some things are better left unsaid. So, in the process of confronting our societal taboos, I upset some of you. Why is the thematic background of the column almost, always invariably sex? Simple, at every waking moment practically the entire world thinks about sex. This is the only activity that is responsible for so many of the problems as well as so much happiness in the world.

So why not write about it?
But there so many issues around sex. Is it not fact that practically every black man dreams of sleeping with a white woman? Some may deny it. In fact, others may not be interested. But the vast majority of us dream of that day. That is why a student who returns from overseas with a white girl draped around his arm achieves instant hero status. Not only does he bask in the glow of universal adulation, but his family also shares in the glory.
That’s the way it is.

The same, of course, does not apply to the opposite gender. Whenever a local girl is seen with a white man, she is dismissed as a prostitute. It is nothing to be proud of. And, of course, we know that many, though not all black women, who date white men met at the pub.
But is it necessarily a bad thing? Not at all have I said.

Couples have to meet somewhere. To me prostitutes are the most innovative of all women. They long ago realised that they cannot own something so precious and yet give it out for free on the basis of a fraudulent idea called love. I have made lots of observations regarding Limbo prostitutes. Throughout, I have placed them in soft focus because I sympathise with them. If an ageing dictator buggers up your country and there is only one way to feed your children, why not utilise that gift instead of worrying about some layabout husband who cannot provide for the family? That is why I believe prostitution must be legalised. It is also vital in keeping the family unit together.

If it was legalised, blokes would do what they had to and return home. I am not aware of anyone who has ever left the family home and shacked up with a sex worker.

Talking of Zimbos, you all know I don’t like Old Man. To me, he represents the failure of Africans in all aspects of life. Only in Africa can a single individual lay a country to waste and continue to enjoy the backing of fellow leaders and even that of the very people he has impoverished. In all other societies, people would rise up to reclaim their freedom and dignity. In Africa things don’t work that way.

I am African. I am supposed to be an angry African. But I am now an African worn down by dejection and self pity because as far as I can see all African leaders end up the same. They can start off with great promise. But with power, something happens to them and they morph into their worst compatriots.

Old Man is a metaphor for almost every leader this continent has had, with a few exceptions. Intolerant, brutal, paranoid, corrupt and with an instinctive dislike for democracy and all it represents. That is our leaders.

For African leaders, democracy works only if the rules favour them. And as they rape and pillage democracy, there is no shortage of sycophants to egg them on. I have long given up. I think Africans deserve what they get. We deserve the leadership we get. We can exist in slumber land and blame the whites for their problems. This is denial in its worst form.

The whites left long ago. The only ones remaining tend to be illiterate and stuck on the farm. They don’t pose any threat to Africans who often tend to be more educated and greater in number. And yet, instead of dealing with our flaws and shortcomings, we rail against the whites. Heck, there is no shortage of hypocrisy. People rail against imperialism and how bad America is. The moment there is disease, famine or floods guess, who they turn to?

I have been honest enough to acknowledge America’s good deeds to many of us who otherwise would be leading miserable lives of destitution. We are a very ungrateful lot. That is why I look forward to the day the whites take off in a giant spaceship and leave us behind. I wait for a day that desperate delegation decides to beg them to return, but without an idea of how to travel there.

Do I like all white people? Of course, not. I am convinced many of them are racists. That is why I stand by my view that after liberation next door, some should have been shot just to show them not to ever try it again.

But having upset a whole lot of you, I also hope I made you laugh. There are people much more qualified and more educated who can deal with serious issues in a serious manner. As for me, I tried to be humorous about the material I wrote about.

Did I succeed or manage to pull it off? That I shall never know because you don’t know me and, therefore, can’t give me a verdict. As a go easy lad who enjoys a lark and a laugh, even the odd giggle once in a while from you would be enough for me. But on a slightly more serious note, my forays on this page reinforced my love for the English language. With every passing week, I learnt new nuances, twists and turns of the greatest language in the life of humanity.

I am sorry my limitations of language prevented me from fully conveying the thoughts and images in my mind as I would have wished. No doubt English is delightful as a second language but, oh, it can also be so frustrating. Hence I quit.

As the curtains come down, what am I going to do with myself? There are lots to do. I need to catch up on my favourite kung fu movies. The movies of my childhood when I could go to the cinema and cheer on my hero and jeer the villain without being told to keep quiet. All without understanding a single word of the dialogue. I also have photo albums containing pictures sent to me in great secrecy by the love of my life. I will spend time gazing at them.
In the meantime, I will be a serious correspondent in the pen pal columns of overseas newspapers.

Yep, I am going to chase my dream of getting that white girl. After getting her, I am leaving your miserable continent. I will be lounging with my madam in our lounge watching on the television set as you ruin and destroy your pitiful little countries. And I won’t come back.
If I fail to secure a white girl, I will try an Indian. If that fails, well I guess I am stuck with my kind.
With Old Man having long disappeared to the gallows, we will finally be together with Pretty Face, chilling overseas!

PS: I suspect you want to know who I am. Forget it. It’s none of your business!

Wishing you all the best in your miserable lives.

Your one and only Loose Canon!

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