HIS EXCELLENCY

The country has been in a turmoil state – like on the serial events on the run:  insurgencies, rape and killing of the humanitarian agents and civilians has been on the peak of both the local and international medias. In the past six months, there has been acute of famine and it has been very hard to reach the affected areas because the rebellious army ambushes the roads.

Currently, it’s His Excellency to return the favor. The former president ran away because he mismanaged the country. The recently, the Elinian former boss also quitted his job because he couldn’t manage to differentiate basic things like stale checks and blank checks. Rumors had it that, he would read his newspaper upside down, and the critique society came in to expose him: all the state resources, diluted into the sea. The country went through an ever-lasting economic crisis before His Excellency was hand-pick to manage the state in a short interim period of eighteen (18) months.

The former boss was accused of so many things: killing of his opposition leaders, imprisoning his critiques, squandering state resources and so much more.

His Excellency is said to be a man who means what he say: God-fearing, industrious and devoted to his work. On the account of his appoint genesis, he was found playing golf with his fellas while his son was watching him hits the golf by nature just like Tiger Woods hits it massively and then the crowd gets weavered to Jubilation. His Excellency has no difference at all course. He is good. He is a good gamer and he plays chess to his best just like golf, too. During his college days, His Excellency represented the entire nation and he was ranked second after Joseph Kamphiri of Malawi. Those were the days before he came to join the military – because in the Democratic Republic of ELIN, military status is treated as special as God’s affairs. A soldier was always rank second after God.

The crowd infested at the gate. Though country was still in the mixture of political hangovers, it didn’t cross his mind that the president, after his visit to one of the African states, declared himself exile and decided to seek for refuge and left the country in the hand of the army who chose His Excellency; without his dear consent to lead the country. “What is going on over there?” he asked one of his friends who was holding his white face towel with two hands to clean his wrinkled face. (By the way, why do golfers mostly use white towels when they’re playing this game and tuck-in their pants up to their sagging bellies?). “I have no idea. Maybe Bill Gates and Melinda sneaked in to watch us practicing for our upcoming event,” and then he paused. “Get the hell out of here, man.” he says….“and then,” the friend intercedes “and then they contracted ulcers after they have seen us hitting the ground with the golf clubs.” They stormed into laughs. His Excellency was holding his son by the hand when they approach and the full attention was dedicated to him by the media: “excuse me, sir,” said one of the ladies who came after him when he was approaching the car, “how do you feel now that you’re going to be the president of the country?” and then she pause to hear from him. That last part of the state almost knocked him out of his wits. He has never dreamt of leading the nation one day. He was just a social activist though according to the army’s grand rules, he should be loyal and love the country even if he dies in the front line. “Well, I have no idea about what you’re talking about; but if this is the truth, I mean, what you’re saying here is the truth, then I would love to hear more when I am at my house. As you can see, I am now exhausted and this little man is tired too.” And then he enters his car.

He did not bother to think about it or even listens to his radio. It was his wife, out of fear, thinking that the government has decided to come and vandalizes their house through a media live recording event, that’s why they’ve surrounded the house.

“Honey, where are you?” she asked full of tears, “our house is on fire?”

“What?”

“I mean, our house is surrounded by men in uniforms and all the journalists are here with their cameras. I don’t know how I should stop them. Please where are you?” she said with her eyes full of tears.

“Okay, baby. Stop crying. I have met those men already. Please relax and go back to what you were doing, okay? You can tune in to the EBC and watch the live event there. I’m just fifteen minutes away.”

“Do you know what you’re talking about?”

“Yes, baby. I have met those people here. I will tell you more about it when I reach home. Meanwhile, prepare something for me I’m seriously starving. Bye!” and then he hangs up.

When she tunes in to EBC – the state-owned television, she was automated to happiness mode. She cried for two things: one, the tears of joy because she is going to be the first lady, meaning, she will, somehow, share the same respect and recognition through her husband. Two, which is the most intriguing part of it, she will have to live a low-key kind of life just to protect her family; and, maybe to act as the shade of sins in case he turns carnival.

His Excellence found the crowd mushroomed at his premise. “Sir, you’re urgently needed at the State House to go and restore the lost hope,” said Lt. Amin who is armed. “Can I wash away the dirty and put on something better than this?” he begged. In such situations, the only thing that comes above you is none other than God.  You forget who is who and what they do for living. “Sir, we are running out of time. You’re good the way you are. Kindly enter into this car and then we proceeds. People are dying to hear from you.” And then his wife and daughter came in to join them in the car. They went all the to the State House.

He came home past midnight that day. That’s just a brief discussion with the public. He was supposed to give his speech, on the things that means business to the people: assuring the nation on how to restore this state peace of mind. He woke up at four in the morning to watch some animations, CNN news, ABC news and BBC news so that he gets updated on the things that matters to him and his country. It is time for liberty. Elinians need peace and restoration that will heal them from the political trauma that they’re demented.

5:15AM, he went to his mini library to read Political Order and Political Decay by Francis Fakuyama. Indeed, politics, during his time is sick, dead and buried ten feet underneath. It is just a career that the world has refused to rewrite in its past tense. Maybe, as “politicaled” and then we get busy to find what could replace it.

5:58AM, he heard a knock on his door. “Come in!” he retorted.   “Mr. President, it’s time to shower.” Said his wife.

“Don’t you think it’s too early to give me that title, First Lady?” he said with a radiant smile on his face. “If I’m wrong, then I guess two wrongs can now make a right. How about that, Mr. President?” and then she swagged her behinds in style.

When he enters the house, he found that the First Lady has chosen the best outfits for him. She is his indoor designer: all the suits he wears, his wife is the sole selector. Before they met, First Lady was a designer and she used to run her company as the sole of her income; so she knows what is good for him, on what occasion.

Twenty minutes later and he was out of the shower – a white towel on his groin. He helped him dressed up. While looking at the new him in the mirror, she came from behind, adjusted his collar and then she made him turn to face her and hold him on the waist and then kissed him passionately. She then whispers something to his ears. “Change is inevitable. Whether it is on a good or bad cost, we must accept change. Let’s go to the dinning and join the rest. We’re running late.”

“Mr. President, we’re running out of time,” said the security personnel. This was after he had pray for the breakfast and munches it three times before his time elapses.

In the car, he was cross-checking his speech.

“It is easy for a leader to promise than to deliver…” Philip Thon Aleu, 2016.

In his speech, he has promise to build roads, maintaining state resources, taking the matter of healthcare, education and the entire development in his own hands. But how, yet the state assets have been privatizes and now they’re owned by foreign investors with full ownership? But how yet the country is chain in abyss of corruption. But how yet the official language and the most spoken language is corruption. How? “I first need to deter the notorious,” he inwardly denounces and then mods his head.

First week: he is sited in his office with the delegates from TROIKA discussing the way forward for the nation. This new proposal, that, the highly institutions like Central Bank are to be manages by someone who comes from one of the TROIKA countries. The government will receive the funding from the government from TROIKA and they will supervise the whole operation. “String attached” you can call it.

First month: he is chairing the cabinet meeting with the council of ministers. Minister of Health: “Mr. President, in the last few days, since you came to power, we have receive few cases of pregnancy and this is because we have tried to distribute contraceptive pills to all the secondary and primary schools. I would love to appeal to WHO to supply us with more condoms so that we both control HIV and rampant pregnancies all together.”

All the ministers presented their craps to him but he couldn’t agree with any of them. For example, the health minister who wants to control pregnancies than the dwindling healthcare in the country, in general. Why would the Transport ministry request huge budget in the name of constructing bridges and then ends up constructing cheap bridges with mud and wooden foundation?

“The things we politicians do when in power will never allow us see the gates of heaven….” Mwalimu Julius Nyarere.

First year: Like he promised to fight corruption, which is the main enemy of Elin. Things keep changing for the worst. Not everyone loved him anymore: when he was starting, he had the heart to please the entire universe. He first had a space in his heart where he wanted to accommodate both the international community and the indigenous but they keeps swaying away parallel over and over again.  “Africa PRODUCES what it does NOT CONSUME and CONSUMES what it does NOT PRODUCE.….” Ali.

So he thought what the presidential advisors were telling him weren’t the right things and good channel to follow. So he listens to the western narrative of how to rule a nation. Boom! He crashed. There was no more truce with the oppositions; there were gunshots everywhere, now and then. Serious hunting took place to silence his critics. People storm to the streets and oppose him.

One morning, as he was waking up to tune in to the national radio station for the morning breakfast broadcasts, he found only Bob Marley’s album that was being aired repeatedly. Not just any other songs, but that one song that reminds every Elinian citizen to follow his or her rights. He went to the balcony for an aerial view. He saw all the residents of the city marching to his presidential palace carrying placards. He descended to the stairs and then squeezes his way to the airport. At the waiting lobby, security men showed up. “Mr. President, you are requested to come with us. Kindly endeavor to cooperate …” the same man who went to pick him the day he was announced the president repeated.

He looked at his wife, daughter, and son, and then he led the way.

A week later, he wrote the following letter.

Dear Former First Lady,

Yesterday was the day I was standing before the nation, giving my manifesto on how to harmonize and brings back the lost glory: today, I am sleeping in a house of common where freedom is a rare commodity.

Dear family, I am not ashamed for my deeds. Every deed is judge here on earth before we walk to hell or heaven clean.

To you my loving wife, teach our kids to go to Church. Teach Junior to water the tree for someday they might bring him life and his family legacy will reigns through that family tree.

This is the last time you might hear from me in a while. In case I do epistle you again, well and good; but if I don’t, then keep this letter as a reference of all those things we ever shared.

A day later, after he had written the will, His Excellency was found dead. He hanged himself in his VIP prison cell where he was separated from the rest of the criminals. His body was cremated later at the freedom square – where everyone was watching. No one ever accepted to take the full ownership of him. Not even his own village elders ever thought of swallowing their egos because he was an outcast.

FADEOUT!