May BPF Rest in Peace
DISCLAIMER: The following is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. Especially you, Biki. Idiot. This is a story of a Pastor meets girl. But the reader should know upfront that, this is a ‘ religious’ story.
The Pastor, Biki, also president of a cultic hate club, worshipping a deity called ‘ Stellenbosch,’ grew up believing he will never truly be happy until the day he meets ‘ The One.’ This belief, stemmed from early exposure to Vātsyāyana’s Kama Sutra and his total misreading of the movie, Fifty Shades of Grey.
‘ The One,’ a 22- year- old girl, studying agriculture, did not share this belief. She only loved two things; lying, and how she could lie and feel nothing. This is a story that begins and ends with a question. “Are you wearing any panties,” asked the Pastor.
This question was an opening scene to a sequence of ‘ intense’ and ‘ passionate’ acts of ‘ deliverance,’ that left ‘ The One’ ‘ pinned’ against the wall. As to what exactly transpired between the ’ pinner’ and the ‘ pinned,’ it is still a matter of ‘ passionate’ and ‘ intense’ debate. As things stand, the two are still busy trying to pin each other against the wall.
The ‘ king- pin’ maintains, he is as clean as a new pin, but the ‘ pinned’ still stands; it was by a policy of pin pricks. In the closing scene, we see the Pastor zipping his pants with immense satisfaction and asking, ‘ The One,’ “Did you enjoy it?” This, was the beginning of the Pastor’s unending political torment.
Without purporting to be a prophet, in particular, a false one, time has come. Ke nako. And time never lies. And time never delays. And like tide, it waits for no man. As it was in the beginning, it would be, in the end. Time will always be the measure of all things.
Perhaps the only appropriate question left for the badly ailing Botswana Patriotic Front ( BPF) is, ke nako mang? That the BPF was never going to stand the test of time, was always a question of time. That the BPF was nothing more than a social club seeking to assert ethnic hegemony under the disguise of a political party, was always going to be a function of time.
That Duma Boko and Ian Khama’s bromance to power, is more than a delusional quest of Utopian nature, only time will tell. Whether the ‘ royal’ patrons of this Serowe outfit, will allow a ‘ commoner,’ either in the form of Biggie Butale or Guma Moyo to lead them to the promised land of ‘ No Mokgweetsi Masisi,’ only time will tell.
Time always tells. For time is definite. But what is before our eyes now, is that, even in the most extreme form of imagination, bordering insanity, it is still extremely hard to imagine BPF as anything other than a cultic hate club. No wonder, in their wandering, time is an undefined variable, hence the slogan, “Ke nako.” Is it not time for Batswana to ask, ke nako mang?
There is no doubt that the BPF is in intensive care. The heated public exchanges between its Publicity Secretary, Lawrence Ookeditse and Secretary General, Tshekedi Khama is a tell- tale sign that the BPF carries the seeds of its demise. With neither ideological nor doctrinal premise, the BPF seems to be a function of the most extreme manifestations of human zealotry.
Besides their ever- concerted efforts to render destructive falsehoods and absolute ownership of twisted reality, two things stand out about BPF; firstly, is it their cultic veneration of ‘ Kgosikgolo’ Ian Khama and secondly, their pathological admonishing of President Masisi.
As far as I am concerned, they have never endeavoured to define their existence beyond this ‘ sacred’ duty to love Khama and hate Masisi. This seems to be the premise on which intellectual curiosity of its members is premised. It is a set of unchallengeable dogma, of which absolute adherence is unconditional.
The point is, if BPF needs to be taken seriously as a political association, they need to define themselves beyond parameters of Bangwato royalty.
As for Butale, there he is, rising from the grave carrying machete, chopping each and every head, blocking his way back to the top. Why do people never learn, I wonder. Once a pawn, always a pawn.