And so the budget has come and gone. And we have all been swindled again.
Things cannot go on this way.
Like everyone else, I sat glued to my radio listening to the man who takes care of the money speaking in abstract terms about how he intends to distribute the public purse. So many people were listening to the radio that day.
The well off were watching their television sets, dreaming of buying plasma screens the moment he finished.
Mind you, the minister was speaking the queen’s language. He flowed so well even the queen herself, listening in London, would have been proud that the empire had taught its natives so well.
In the speech were bombastic words I had heard before. There were phrases that came right from an economics text book. For a moment my mind drifted to the minister’s village where his relatives were obviously listening with pride, understanding barely a word.
I can tell you the way the money minister was going on, even many white people could not understand him. Now that is the height of all achievement. A native who can dazzle the whites at their own language, making them end up looking silly. The funny thing is that the budget is such major events that even the illiterate were listening to their radios.
From where I sat, I saw a group of labourers glued to their small transistor set.
I have stayed sometime in school. Though the money minister was mesmerizing me with his high English, I could at least follow what he was saying. But throughout the country multitudes whose stint in school had been brief were also following proceedings.
Then the money minister finished.
At the end of his speech, people huddled in little corners and did a post-mortem. Even the semi literate labourers got into animated conversation about the biggest event of the year.
For me, this year was not any different from previous years. I had heard the big words before. The abstract economic phrases were familiar. As always, the money minister had impressed the queen. As for me, I still had that feeling of being swindled.
You see, as far as I am concerned the annual budget ritual is a huge charade. It is a sophisticated piece of fraud. Many people are willing accomplices in this swindle.
Occasionally we are given a cost of living adjustment and celebrate like Jesus, that sad looking fellow who was nailed to the cross for disowning his carpenter father, has finally arrived. Anyway the authorities have realised that they can pull this budget scam for as long as they dish out increments. In other years, like this year, they claimed there was no money for increments. That is why everyone wore a long face after the budget speech. Just when will people learn this is a scam? The idea behind this strategy is to remind us, poor people, just who is in charge of the money.
We are denied an increment so as to beg and plead with the authorities for an increment the following year. In this way, we know we have to pay homage to the authorities in order to get something.
I have long seen through the scam.
Next year, the money minister will give an increment. Everyone will celebrate and say how great he and his buddies in power are. I have no time for that. As a law abiding citizen of this country, I want what is due to me.
For instance, and until I am told otherwise, I believe that three people get all the money.
First is the man whose portrait is on the money. He gets his share. I mean if the country is going to put his portrait on the currency notes then he is entitled to charge us for image rights. It is only fair. The president gets a lot of money as payment for his image rights.
The next person who gets a lot of money is the money minister who speaks on radio delivering the budget speech. He has to be compensated for dazzling us with that long speech. Remember he has also appended his signature on the currency to make it legal tender. Therefore he has to cream off his share for putting his signature on the cash.
The third person who sleeps nicely is Madame Governor of the Central Bank. She has to get her share because she takes care of the money. Apparently at the bank where they keep all the country’s money, she is the only person who knows the code to the huge vaults. She is never broke.
If she runs out of cash, she simply strolls over to the bank, punches in the code and she is smiling. By the way, her signature is also on the money.
So you see why I consider the budget speech to be a swindle? The people who are really smiling are the three lucky folks I cited. It is the president, the money minister and governor.
Not forgetting their friends and relatives.
As for the rest of us, we are placated with irregular and derisory wage increments. That is why I demand what is due to me. And I will repeat it again. I don’t care for the budget speech and all the English that dazzles both the natives and the queen alike. I want to be given my share.
I want the finance minister to write me a cheque every year for my share of my country’s money. I am grown up. I am sensible. I can take care of my money. I don’t need the money minister and Madame Governor to look after my money. Give it to me and I will save it myself.
I don’t know what is so difficult about my request. We are told the money belongs to us as the citizens of the country. Well, I want my share in my pocket and not in the big vault where Madame governor can just walk in and walk out smiling.
I don’t want my share in the vault. I want it at home or in a place of safety known only to me. And all in cash.
Until I am given my share, in crisp currency notes, then the budget is just a swindle!
