Grand reunion at the cemetery

They were gathered at the cemetery…… to plot their evil…… Away from the snooping eyes and eavesdropping ears of the men in dark suits and sun glasses. All of them…….Those who hated him with a passion…..Those writhing in pain with bitterness…..Those extremely green with envy…….Those desperate to exert revenge……Those whose hearts had escaped from their chest cavities…….. Those who had just awakened from deep slumber …..Those eager to coin a name for themselves…..

They had broken ranks with cultural norms and practices and congregated at the resting place of the dead. They had one purpose in mind…..to identify a grave where to inter Kachema, after of course ejecting him from the colonial mansion by whatever means!

Jagwa, the local tycoon reputed to have been chased from the colonial mansion by imisepela for looting the treasury had ensured that there was a generous supply of food and beverages for everyone. He had flown in celebrity chefs from Europe to prepare the great feast…..gourmet menu – high quality delicacies crafted to deliver exquisite taste! They washed down the food with Moët & Chandon, the world’s best-selling champagne!

As the clock struck the witch hour, Shicotha cleared his throat and called the house to order. He had pitched-up in a black overflowing dress and a white head gear. After taking a quick swig from a bottle of Jameson, which he was more than willing to share with Jagwa, he slammed it down on a glass table. He tried to look as much sober as possible as he conducted roll-call.

Just when no one was looking, Jagwa swiftly grabbed the bottle of Jameson and drained half of its contents into his stomach! His eyes were now glittering with excitement as his dimples dug in further.

“Colleagues, it’s not wise to indulge in alcohol when deliberating on matters of such grave importance,” Calabash said, hiding his face behind his hand as he pretended to scratch the scar on his face

Ever since papa from Malawi assured him God had revealed to him he was to be the next occupant of the old mansion along Independence Avenue, he tended to overrate himself. He actually postured himself as more intelligent than the rest of mankind put together! Whenever time allowed him, he’d call his folks back in the village on his iPhone 15 informing them he was truly the annointed one……and not that “worthless drunkard from Chawama!”

“We shall ask ba Mpundwi to open up in prayer…” Shicotha simply ignored him.

He wasn’t going to allow anyone to dictate to him how things were supposed to be done, including over-ambitious chaps such as Calabash. He had a bone to chew with Kachema for making him eat humble pie in that scintillating thriller in Magoye decades ago. He was determined to do what ever it took to wrestle the crown from him even if it meant joining forces with those he had little or no regard for.

The aging cleric staggered clumsily as he tempted to remain erect. He had indulged in too much wine for anyone’s liking. He gave a long winding boring prayer about how the dilapidated mansion needed to be rescued before its total collapse.

“There’s too much hunger in this village…….all because of one individual!” he shouted to the heavens above as others murmured in agreement. “Kachema must go…..”

Jagwa, obviously a man of little faith but more into the pleasures of this world, was already sound asleep, and snoring like a lion.

“Amen!”

Jagwa was startled out of sleep. He quickly looked around…..a shadow of embarrassment crossing his face.

“Without wasting much of our time,” Shicotha said, choosing his words very carefully like a judge who is about to deliver a landmark judgement. “I shall ask Jagwa to give us his opening remarks….”

Jagwa was on fire! He had to prove to them he wasn’t sleeping on duty after all, or indeed completely inebriated. He gave an account of the ‘misdeeds’ of Kachema according to what he knew.

“He has taken away my kasaka kandalama; I can’t feed my gadas anymore! He continues to boycott my challenger which is now rusted and gathering dust,” they egged him on with plastic smiles and fake applause. “He’s giving away too much money to the students which they’re just wasting on kachasu and ba pondo! Look at the way he has compromised the quality of education in the village by opening the doors to every Jim and Jack? Children are now failing to distinguish the difference between pharmacists and farmers……”

“What is in it for us?” Cidadwe who had been observing him questioningly asked, suddenly.

Cidadwe had created for himself an outfit which he believed would take him to the colonial mansion although he wasn’t really making any progress. He saw this as a golden opportunity to make a name for himself.

“Typical of men; you can’t even give chance to women to speak!” It was mama Namaqui, bitterness engraved all over her face as usual. “I hate Kachema with a passion. I gave him all my heart, but he kept spurning my overtures. I won’t rest until he pays for it!”

Curtheka, whose party she had inherited from the General kept nose-diving, had now taken to the floor.

“I must caution this gathering that we’re at war with a shrewd individual; if you may recall, our colleague mama Namaqui tried to have him arrested at all costs and prevent him from appearing on the ballot papers with the help of Hamtambos, but to no avail.”

“Oh yes, he’s quite a smart aleck,” exclaimed Mpundwi, “he actually rejected my offer to be his God-father!”

Imbhoila – the ex. musician who had applied to be adopted to go to Manda hill was then invited to entertain them as they gobbled the sumptuous menu.

“As for me……” She was saying after belting out one or two boring songs. “I am more than ready to entertain the crowds with my music as we traverse the country.”

“And we shall equally seek to engage the US government to cripple this government by imposing sanctions…..” Cha’ngra offered as he adjusted his maze cap.

Cha’ngra had been nursing septic wounds after seemingly being sidelined on appointments as a diplomat. He was determined to slice Kachema to pieces.

Puree who had just divorced his Caucasian wife suddenly erupted into an irritating laughter to the chagrin of all. Just when everyone thought he had gone bonkers and perhaps on the next bus to Chainama; he swiftly took to the floor.

“Let’s not ignore the fact that the Church is a corner stone that we should alway involve in our grand scheme of things,” he smiled sheepishly, “We must endeavour to reach-out to the clergy as much as possible.”

“Amen to that!” they echoed in unison.

Imbhoila immediately took to the floor to celebrate what has just been achieved as Jagwa popped-up a bottle of champagne and sprayed it in the air.

As the sun emerged out of its hiding, Shicotha stood up and gravely brought the gavel crushing down on the mahogany desk. He majestically cleared his throat……they looked at him expectantly.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” his eyes dramatically swept across the graveyard. “Our meeting shall now adjourne until further notice.”

Prince Bill M. Kaping’a
Political/Social Analyst