AGROZAM, FISP AND FERTILISER
It is not uncommon to find ten farmers sharing only one bag, sir. It is unprecedented.
PRIDE comes before a fall. Meanwhile, in some backwater country, a revealing conversation was being had.
His jacket drenched with sweat, grim-faced and clearly under pressure, the Minister of Agriculture was speaking: ‘Mr President, the people are unhappy. They are bitterly complaining.‘
The Republican President, looking quite the part like a consummate Adventist choir master, his gloves on his hands as if afraid of being poisoned or ready to handle any sensitive, bio-hazardous and toxic files on his desk, his crooked tongue, like that of a snake, repeatedly coming out of the corner of his mouth: ‘Which people?’
With bated breath, the Minister: ‘All the citizens, sir. Especially the farmers. They are saying that this year’s FISP is a disaster. That it threatens national food security, and by extension, overall national security. ’
The Republican President, glaring at his minister: ‘ And you believe them?’
The Minister was at a loss for words.
Then, finding his voice: ‘We promised them inexpensive fertiliser, sir. 250 per bag maximum. That is why they voted for us, Mr President. But now even fertiliser itself is not available. They are saying that this is because you, sir, pocketed much of the money which AGROZAM should have used to purchase the fertiliser. That you got a kickback, sir. The lion’s share, sir.’
Smiling, crooked tongue out, the Republican President: ‘I see that you missed last Cabinet meeting, Minister.
In an easy to comprehend manner, I told your colleagues, recounted to them the stepwise plan that we have for this country. We are methodical, Minister.
The first year is for economic stabilisation.
That money you referred to as a kickback is to enable me stabilise myself first.
I give, so I must also be given. To every action, there is a reaction, Minister. Do you under these principles of Nature, Minister? Are you familiar with physics?’
Mesmerised by his president’s gift of the gab, the Minister remained quiet.
The Republican President continued, staring his minister in the eye for emphasis: ‘ As the Republican President I must eat first. What if I die? Who will run the country then? Would you still retain your jobs as ministers if that were to happen?
For me to be able to feed our citizens, I must be full myself first. So I told your colleagues to equally stabilise themselves first for them to work properly.
Look at your colleague at the Ministry of Health. Your colleague there is doing a fine job in this area of first addressing these stabilisation fundamentals.
Minister, we are Christians. Are you Christian, Minister?’
Wondering where this was leading to, the Minister of Agriculture nodded.
The Republican President continued, as if guiding a child: ‘Our Lord Jesus Christ implores us to love one another. He says that we must love others as we love ourselves.
Now tell me, Minister, how can we love others if we don’t love ourselves first?
Take me for instance, I am the Republican President. How can I love the citizens if I don’t love myself first. So don’t ever use that word again, Minister.’
A wrinkle on his brow, the Minister seemed confused: ‘Which word, sir?’
‘Kickback,’ the President guided, ‘I don’t like that word.
It is only a matter of priority. First things first. As our government’s policy, first we must secure the Republican President and his ministers. The people’s security will then duly follow.’
The Minister: ‘Sir, I was just wondering what the citizens will eat next year.’
The Republican President: ’Read the National Development Plan, Minister.
We have a full chapter in there on that. Our party is big on food security.
For example, in our second year of rule, we will now focus on unlocking resources. And people come first. Human Resources. It is all taken care of, Minister.’
‘I am a little lost, sir. What do you mean when you say that it is all taken care of?’
Fidgeting, the Republican President: ‘ My dear Minister, there is no way our country’s economy will grow and become vibrant with a small population. The numbers just don’t add up. We need more people.
This is what I mean when I say that we now should unlock our resources.
It is deliberate that this year AGROZAM has purchased a limited quantity of Urea and Compound D. This is because we are now fertilising the country differently.
Much of the money given to AGROZAM, and I must say that it is adequate for this purpose, has gone to the purchase of trace elements such as Nyang’anya, Zinc and Vitamin E. All sugar, water, mealie meal and beer is now being fortified with these vital nutrients. These are fertilisers, Minister. Potent fertilisers.
You could say that we are first addressing micro-issues for the targeted and desired macro-economic success later on, if you like.
Haven’t you noticed that your colleague at the Ministry of Health is now under pressure? This is because the demand for health services has gone up.
Many citizens are mistaken to think that the shortages in our health facilities are because of failed leadership. The opposite is actually true. The shortages are a reliable indicator that we are working. They show success, that our long-term economic recovery program is beginning to show results.
The birth rate of our country has risen. This rise is in line with the rise in our government-induced mating rates.
Fiscal Insemination Secret Program. See, Minister? FISP.
For reasons of national security, Minister, this strategic intervention to unlock our resources by covertly promoting mating for fiscal stability and economic growth has been undertaken in secret. The citizens are unaware. They don’t need to know everything.
How else would the citizens be quiet in the midst of this high cost of living, Minister?
Has their silence ever crossed your mind? It is because there is mass mating going on, Minister. Sex sedates, it is a required balm for governance.
Citizens are now too occupied with mass fertilisation.
By the time we are in the third year, we will be in very good stead for economic recovery as the population would have grown.
Do you now see, Minister, the kind of farming that we are presently focused on?’
‘I see,’ the Minister, clearly in the dark, unseeing and perturbed, said slowly as if in a reverie.
‘Do you really see, Minister? You don’t look it.’
‘Sir, the small tonnage we have so far secured is by far not enough.
As a consequence, we have fewer recipients this year, and in a significant number of cooperatives, farmers are even sharing the Urea and Compound D bags using medas, a development which might lead to instability and social unrest in the nation.
This present fertiliser shortage is apocalyptic, Mr President.
It is not uncommon to find ten farmers sharing only one bag, sir. It is unprecedented, Mr President.’
The Republican President, his voice rising, a tad annoyed: ‘Minister, you clearly need to be born again. What is wrong with sharing? Didn’t I remind you that we are a Christian nation?
Sharing is Christianity in practice. Let the people share. Sharing is loving itself.
In accordance with our pursuit of fiscal discipline, the manual on Immediate Measures for Fiscus [IMF] states that we must remove subsidies on agriculture. So this reduction in the number of beneficiaries, Minister, is merely a prelude to complete removal of subsidies. It is a phased approach, Minister. We are being methodical.
Sharing is provided for in the preamble of our Republican Constitution. So let the people share.’
The Minister, sheepish: ‘With no bumper harvest as anticipated, when the people ask me about what they will eat next year, what should I say, Mr President?’
The President smiled.
‘Of course, you and me know that we will indeed have a bumper harvest.
How can we not have a bumper harvest with all this mating and fertilisation going on? Truly AGROZAM has done its work. Clandestinely, of course.
Multitudes of new citizens, all economic actors, shall be harvested.’
The Minister, awkwardly smiling back: ‘I mean food, sir.’ ‘I know. I know.
Prepare a Ministerial Statement, Minister, and liaise with the Speaker of the National Assembly that you give it on a strategic day, a day when all the people will be tuned in to Parliament Radio, listening.
Indicate in your statement that I am in conversation with Volodymr Zelensky.
Tell the citizens that I love them dearly. Mention that no one will go hungry under my watch. Contingency measures are already in place.
Volodymr Zelensky is the president of Ukraine. With the support of the EU, we will secure inexpensive grain for our people from his country. Note that Ukraine is the leading grower of food in the world.
Haven’t you noticed, Minister, that we are now acting like a gay country? That is a strategic ruse. We have conveniently managed to hoodwink Europe and America about our embracing the rights of these sick and perverted people, and now these development partners are eagerly facilitating our required global support.
We are in the champions league now, Minister.
Even Tony Blair, the former British prime minister is at my beck and call. Twice, he has been here within a year. This shows you how big I am on the international scene. How can we starve, Minister, when international confidence in our country has soared?
They want our minerals, we will eat their food. Quid pro quo, Minister.
Note that it is actually cheaper to import food from Ukraine than to grow it ourselves. This is simple economics really. Everything is methodical, Minister. And meticulous.‘
Appearing apologetic, his heartbeat somewhat normalising, the sweating a tad down, his jacket and undershirt drying up now, the Minister: ‘I was worried about 2026. The ground is bad, Mr President.
I have already told my constituents that I will not be seeking re-election at the next general election. The people don’t want me, Mr President. Things are really bad on the ground for our party, Mr President.
Everyone is now convinced that we are liars.
They are calling all of us ba sakalanyongo, ba pompwe. Even you, sir. Ati president wa bufi. It hurts. I can no longer walk freely on the streets.’
The President, brimming with confidence, crooked tongue out again: ‘Have you noticed the changes that we have made at the Electoral Commission, Minister?’
‘Yes, sir, I have. We have appointed our staunch party members there. Our relatives.’
‘Yes, Minister, you have the gift of keen observation. That, Minister, is strategic. It is called keeping things in the family.
Do not worry about 2026. We have that already taken care of.
In confidence, I will tell you something, Minister. Do not share this with anyone. I am only sharing this with you because you are one of the smartest ministers I have, one of the few ministers I hold in high esteem and trust.
Our National Intelligence and Security Services agency gave me a highly classified briefing last week. Top, top secret. Very hush hush.
They said that under the current situation, our party cannot win any free and fair election. None at all.
We have fulfilled very few if any of the promises we made during the campaigns.
Despite our firmly stating that the debt ceiling had been reached, we have let the people down, Minister, by borrowing more in one year than our previous colleagues did.
Our education reforms have had no cross-cutting impact. Recruitment is not job creation, Minister, and CDF is a disaster with its terrible teething difficulties.
We are even fortunate that the people have not lynched us.
The cost of living is way too high for most of our citizens, higher today than before the elections that saw us into power.
The people are beyond frustrated, Minister. Even our security wings aren’t fully with us.
We are walking on political thin ice, Minister.
Have you heard that our public schools are begging for boxes of chalk from each other, Minister? How can citizens vote for us again like that? We need to pull up our socks, Minister.
Further, the private sector which should cushion them is not doing well. And I agree with the citizens that single-digit inflation is not food, Minister.
Statistics do lie, Minister.
So the changes at our Electoral Commission are part of our survival plan, our backup winning formula.
Arresting popular opposition candidates and barring them from standing, slapping polling agents belonging to opposition political parties and chasing them from counting sites, slapping voters to intimidate them from voting and throwing cars belonging to our opponents into lakes is all part of the plan.
So worry not about 2026, Minister.
For now focus on your own personal economic stabilisation. I hope that AGROZAM also scratched your back.
You really need to secure yourself before you secure the farmers. First fertilise yourself, Minister. Order and gird your mind first.
Like my young minister at alien affairs, I hear that you are building. Visit Sinoma as well. They sell good cement there on any day of your choice for ministers like you. Contrary to public opinion, the Chinese are still helping us to build our country. If true, that is good.
You can only love others, Minister, if in the first place, you yourself have love.
Build your own capacity for giving, Minister. Give yourself first. For the love of country, I am earnestly doing that myself.
Eat first, Minister. Only then can you feed others. It is your turn to eat.’
As if to illustrate his belief in sharing and giving, the Republican President rose from his majestic chair to pour a cup of coffee for the minister.
The Republican President, cup of coffee in hand: ‘Slapping citizens, especially women, is a governance requirement in a developing country like ours. They are too docile.
Slapping them a little and pinching their bottoms in an extra-judicial manner wakes them up to the reality that no political party can accept to rule for just one term.’
Aghast, jaw hanging as if afflicted with tetanus, the Minister: ‘Does this explain why and how we nearly won all the recently held by-elections?’
To the minister, the smell of the coffee by his side had something putrid to it, as if there was something corrupt in and behind its brew.
Grinning like a Cheshire cat, the Republican President: ‘Smart minister. Smart indeed. If you carry on like this, I will promote you, Minister, give you a bigger responsibility, take you to defence or something like that.
You readily understand. Unlike that nitwit at Information and Broadcasting.
Test run, Minister. That was a test run.’
As if to himself, the Minister: ‘Oh my God! What have I gotten myself into? Seems like a nightmare. It all feels like a bad dream. This fertiliser crisis is a terrible time bomb. To me this looks like the picture of failure.
I don’t know what national orchestra you are conducting, sir.
But listen carefully, the development music you are producing seems out of tune.’
The Republican President, eyes wide, a tinge of surprise and disapproval in his voice: ‘What did you say, Minister? Are you with us? Minister!’
There was utter silence.
As if catatonic, the minister seemed in a trance, lost in deep thought.
From a far away distance, the wind carried a faint echo of Keith Mlevu’s song Ubuntungwa.
As if a sepulchural mist, its words wafted through the windows of State House right into the august chamber where the Republican President and his Minister of Agriculture chatted.
Too self-centred, too occupied with themselves, none of them picked its cautionary and timeless cadence.
...nomba mona, we mwine... wishitishe è calo...
Indeed, quos Deus vult perdere, prius dementat.
The English would say, those whom God wishes to destroy, he first deprives of reason.