Last weekend, Meneja a hitherto man of influence in Bossman Republic-a successful country as far as modern post conflict management is concerned-was analyzing his options after receiving an assessment letter that highly questioned his style of work and the organization he headed, Banana Inc.
There was no doubt that the former villageman cum blue eyed boy was headed to jail.
The threat of jail was in fact made in a very eloquent manner when a summon from police and the prosecuting judges appeared simultaneously. The new Bossman managers never cared less for procedures.
As such he was due to face investigation, interrogation, quizzing, arrest, detention, prosecution and imprisonment in no particular order. By the beginning of this week he was some way in dealing with the menu listed above.
One evening after being arraigned in front of a judge-another one of the Bossman’s eager crew to jump on the good life wagon and not only show that the judiciary was not corrupt like other departments but also that they were watching other Bossmen whose bellies and car fleets were expanding at fast paces.
Recently as Meneja was reflecting on the various episodes in his life that had led to the current precarious state of his affairs, he turned his large frame in this unfamiliar new place of abode, a 50 metre squared room which also served as his detention centre and was rueful at the speed with which his candle had turned from bright light to slow burning and finally extinction.
This is about the time I ventured at the police post to answer a summon myself and hopefully check out Meneja.
While Meneja was still the round cheeked poster boy of the good things happening in Bossman, our paths crossed one time. I had once been an envoy of all witch-doctors and traditional healers in Bossman to Banana Inc.
During our brief encounter he was the new breed of Bossmans, a busy and time conscious lot eager to get off work and head for sports activities in the afternoon.
On the other hand, I was one of the several ‘necessary evils’ that he was supposed to deal with in the execution of his leadership duties head of Banana Inc. The duties of assisting farmers and Bossmans involved in the agriculture industry.
At the time I tried to get his attention and sympathy on how I had been mistreated by his secretary-you see he had a pretty faced lady who acted more as his bodyguard than administrative assistant.
When I tried to get an appointment with Meneja to discuss my intention to start an NGO that I envisioned would develop a network, fellowship or scheme for all witch-doctors in the country, such that the witch-doctors would assist the farmers in terms of causing an early and long rainy season enabling a richer harvest. She dismissed my idea and in a very eloquent but rude manner said her boss, (to whom she was also rumoured to be a mistress) did not have time.
So as Chichi gave me a long tirade and ridicule of my idea, she was very much convinced that she was not overstepping her authority.
Now as Meneja sat lonely in his cell, Chichi was very busy lining up a job in a major telecommunications firm. Rumours were rife that she was after-all a bait.
She is said to have been a mole but it was not clear whether she worked for her own security organization or that of the higher authorities and as such she moved from the arms of one influential in Bossman as easily as she entered and occupied the most prestigious of offices in the country.
She was much more concerned for her forthcoming trip to shop in Dubai than Meneja’s current misfortune.
The assistant, Penelope Chichi was indeed highly educated but it was with no coincidence that she seemed to have the flair of changing high profile jobs and higher men.
If you thought about her life for a while she seemed to be the subject of that Kanye West Song, Gold Digger, “......... I aint saying she a gold digger, but she aint messing with no broke man......he gonna make it to a Benz from that Datsun, watch him..stay by his side.”
Because of this humiliation, my idea to connect the important and necessary services of witch-doctors to the need of farmers died and I never wanted to see Chichi’s well manicured fingers and expertly made-up face ever.
I was bitter and now as I went to visit Meneja in his cell, a part of me was hoping that he’d stay in the ‘commune’ for a while, be starved, be in need of company and feel the powerlessness of being out of office in an agrarian country like Bossman.
For his part, Meneja wondered what was happening to all his former colleagues who had earlier dined with him in high restaurants in Citi-the capital of Bossman.
He heard that his former old chum who had been an executive in the senate was detained as was the director of the influential national organiztion in charge of public investment and external finance.
Another former colleague was also rumoured to have diverted a large proportion of the national health insurance fund and his file was also doing the police+prosecution dance.
It was while Meneja was busy juggling these thoughts in his mind that I made a grand entry at the police post where he was being hosted. We were not happy to see each other again.
Yet I was here to help him. The witch-doctors, who had not taken lightly their being snubbed from the funds of Banana Inc were in benevolent mood now and they had sent me as an emissary to Meneja.
They knew the demons that were currently sweeping through Bossman and were ready to come to the assistance of folks like Meneja ‘if only’ he could promise to peddle their case through the numerous layers of bureaucracy so as they could be welcomed on the Donor Dining Table.
I also carried a special message of support from Chichi, (the witches that I represented had washed me with god waters and my heart was cleansed of all its hate and I was made so attractive that Chichi was very eager to speak with me this time.)
She had recorded for him a couple of songs on CD from her recent visit to the Caribbeans with her latest boyfriend.
Me: Chichi sends you her greetings and says that she is working on that ‘promise’ you and her had to visit Italy one day.
She believes that you are very strong and will get through this current misfortune and that though she is too busy to visit you, she sends you this music to relax your soul as you deal with the heartless police summons.
Meneja: She is a bitch that woman, she is a slut. I swear I’ll slap her in public when I get out of here.